In her book ‘The Beauty Myth’, author and feminist Naomi Wolf writes “for as far back as women could remember, something had hurt about being a female.” In ‘The Substance,’ Coralie Fargeat’s newest body-horror film, this theme is pushed to its limit. ‘The Substance’ is two hours and twenty minutes of unhinged, bloody, and satirical exploration into beauty standards, ageism, and misogyny. A horror film so bonkers, yet so rich in allegory, ‘The Substance’ has already been labelled an instant classic by the critics. Despite Demi Moore’s compelling performance and the engrossing aesthetics of Fargeat’s world (even the main soundtrack is reminiscent of the whirring of a surgical drill), what earns ‘The Substance’ a spot amidst the classics is its honesty. The film holds up neon-tinted mirror to our Ozempic-obsessed, optimization-seeking society and unapologetically asks us to take a long, hard look at how our pursuit of perfection has created something uniquely perverse.
‘The Substance’ wastes no time transporting the viewers into a world where beauty is boss. It tells the story of Elisabeth Sparkle, a renowned actress in her youth and more recently a host of an aerobics show. On her 50th birthday, she is abruptly fired by the boorish and arrogant network executive due to her age: “people always ask for something new”, he tells Elisabeth. Devastated, Elisabeth turns to a black-market company that promises that its drug can “unlock a better, younger, more beautiful, more perfect version of yourself” with a single injection. Their offer comes with a strict set of rules – the versions must rotate every 7 days, the “other” must inject herself with a stabilizer daily (which we later learn is Elisabeth’s spinal fluid that gets replenished in the 7 days she is in hibernation), and both must remember that they are one.
Elisabeth asks no questions about the substance; her desire to feel beautiful overrides her sense of caution and blinds her to the risks. We see such risk-taking in real life too. Despite the warnings that BBLs have the highest mortality rate of any cosmetic procedure, their popularity has risen by 20% since 2017. Only recently, Alice Webb, a mother-of-five, lost her life following a BBL procedure. This begs the question – are we living in a world where female beauty is valued more than female life?
Unsurprisingly, the substance gets misused. As Sue, Elisabeth’s bouncier, younger, and hotter other, goes from one career success to another, winning over the network executives and landing the main role on the aerobics show, she becomes reluctant to share her life with Elisabeth. Sue’s experience is told predominantly through close-up shots that are not simply suggestive, but almost pornographic, indicating how she is perceived as a passive, reductive combination of beautiful body parts. This is reminiscent of Wolf’s conclusion that “the age of surgery breaks [a woman] down into defective components…her sentient, vital body and the individuality of her face” that are up for tweaking. Both characters body-check incessantly, either with fascinated curiosity (Sue) or obvious disgust (Elisabeth), and the lingering shots of them observing their bodies drive home the point that women look for their value in the mirror.
Yet ‘The Substance’’s most profound message becomes clear in Act 3, which will leave even the biggest horror fans squeamish. Enter Elisasue, the mutated monster born out of Sue’s desperate decision to inject herself with the leftover substance, despite a clear warning of one-time use only. Her over-the-top deformities don’t stop Elisasue from getting dolled up for a New Year’s show; she puts in sparkly earrings and curls (and singes, in one of the lighter moments of the film) her singular strand of hair. Her efforts are in vain, and the audience categorically rejects her. “It’s still me! I am still me!”, Elisasue begs as a revolted crowd mocks, abuses, and attacks her. In classic Horror-film fashion, Elisasue literally explodes, showering the audience with rivers and rivers of blood. The blood on their hands is metaphorical no more.
The public is, of course, oblivious to the fact that Elisasue is its own creation.
One can’t help but be reminded of Kylie Jenner and the barrage of online criticism she faced for looking old and botched at the Jeal Paul Gaultier show in early 2024. Her excessive use of filler was vehemently discussed on various social media; on Reddit, a snark thread reads “her face resembles a monkey” and “they all look like monsters.” We spew acrid criticisms of women’s looks, driving them towards cosmetic procedures, only to turn around and call them botched, unnatural, and plastic. One’s imperfections don’t have to be as grotesque as Elisasue’s to provoke an identical reaction of disgust from the public.
The most bizarre instance of life imitating art imitating life occurred post-production, vindicating the depth of ‘The Substance’’s observations about the pathologies of our society. The film received a 13-minute standing ovation at Cannes, and this deserved moment of celebration was captured on camera and posted on X (formally Twitter). Amidst the jubilant roar of the crowd, the video pans to beaming Moore, raven-haired and dewy, as she timidly blows a kiss at the camera, just like Sue in her fitness video.
A click away is the comments section, which reads “How can a woman who can’t move her face due to the billion surgeries she [has had] still be an actress? How stupid everything became”, serving as a reminder that Fargeat’s horror film, as kooky as it is, is not that really far-fetched at all.
