FILM REVIEW: The Substance

The Worst Kind of Movie: you are invested in 3/4 of the film, then suddenly the Director pulls the rug from underneath you for no reason and the last 1/4 ruins everything else. Films like Mother! and Splice come to mind. The Substance, thankfully, is not this. Flaunting its satire like a peacock with razors in its feathers, the film pulls the rug from underneath us even DEEPER into the satire. That is the point, and it sticks the landing almost too well, making the splash a bit more uncontrollable than potentially anticipated. We are left with one of the most visceral films I have ever seen.

What a great return to a starring role for Demi Moore. She plays Elizabeth Sparkle, an aging celebrity whose self-loathing is starting to boil above the surface. It does not help that the men around her push her out of the starlight and into her own mind. This includes her boss Harvey (a zany, superfluous Dennis Quaid), who is looking for someone younger, more vibrant to fill her Jane Fonda-sized hole as an at-home fitness instructor. When Elizabeth gets into some personal trouble, a stranger notices she would be the perfect candidate for a new Substance that would promise a “new life” in a younger body. The plot very much could also be in Black Mirror, but that is a ridiculous comparison when it is this well-written.

Elizabeth ends up taking the Substance, and out of her (literally) comes Sue (Margaret Qualley, finally given a role that meets up to her Maid abilities). Two persons who are One. Part of the fun is learning the rules of this Substance, so I will just say their end goal is to keep a Balance between their lives. Elizabeth gets 7 days, then has to switch back to Sue, and vice versa. Sue ends up anonymously becoming what Elizabeth once was in terms of stardom. Sue becomes so consumed by her Youth, she infiltrates the Balance by tipping it her way. It all goes downhill from there, eventually leading to a final Act that is so bizarre that if I explained it, you would still be surprised when it comes about.

This would be a film Rod Serling would love. At one point I thought of the classic “Eye of the Beholder” Twilight Zone episode. The plots share common themes of body image, yes, but that was also a jarring episode for television! Jarring is a great word to describe this film. The cinematography, shot by Benjamin Kracun, plays with symmetry juxtaposed to fish lens-style wide angles of us basically being shoved in the male characters’ faces. We then are treated to some natural shots of our female characters’ body which were both so vulnerable and erotic at the same time. The exact tone of the film. Impressive work from Director Coralie Fargeat. Fargeat also directs Moore and Qualley to thematic perfection. They both have this look that is so piercing and yet so innocent that plays fantastically with the “sexiness” of it all. The shots of each of them staring at each others’ portraits is just so so good. Moore’s Elizabeth ends up being a cartoony witch-like character that could easily be thrown in a film with the Sanderson Sisters. The self-loathing becomes so incessant that we cannot even take her seriously by that point. How depressing.

As mentioned, the film culminates in a wild Final Act that must be seen to be believed. It is one I normally despise as it usually comes across as pretentious. This time, there was a certain vengeful glee that was rampant in the theater. It was still a bit too much, but a fun time nonetheless. One observation: the women in the theater seemed to be having an even more reactive/fun time. The feeling reminded be of Barbie, believe it or not. It felt more than a reaction to a movie. It seemed more like a connection to something even more gleefully guttural than that. This thought has stuck with me the most post-screening. Just another facet on this extremely jarring film.