This review is part of Honi Soit’s continued coverage of the 71st Sydney Film Festival, 5-16 June. Read the rest of our reviews here.
Beauty is only skin deep. You just have to let it claw its way out.
Directed, written and produced by Coralie Fargeat, The Substance (2024) is a satirical, feminist body-horror that follows fading Hollywood film star Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), who is fired from her 80s-esque TV aerobics show on her 50th birthday by a misogynistic male board, led by the repugnant Harvey (Dennis Quaid), as they perceive her to have ‘aged out’ of the industry. That is, until she is offered a second chance; an opportunity to be reborn, literally. She’s introduced to the mysterious, eponymous medical procedure with the promise that it will allow her to become “the best version” of herself – “younger, more beautiful, more perfect”.
But, there’s a catch: the substance does not simply transform the patient, it divides the molecular cells and creates a new person, who is gruesomely born through the spine of the host. These two individuals are each allowed seven days before the primary consciousness must be switched.
This confrontational film delves into the extreme beauty standards that women are subjected to, particularly in Hollywood, as they are valued based on physical attractiveness rather than their authenticity or talent. Fargeat’s narrative is exemplified by her choice of genre, particularly as the audience is exposed to the grotesque visual characterisation of Harvey. While the ‘birthing’ of Sparkle’s alternate self is gory, close-up shots of Harvey eating, chewing and salivating over an obscene number of cooked prawns are equally as revolting. This gluttonous allusion prompts the audience to consider that patriarchal values not only condemn women, but protect men as attention is directed away from their flaws.
Fittingly, the film won the Best Screenplay Award at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Fargeat’s genius cinematic construction reveals a phenomenal complexity, wherein every sentence, every prop, and every shot adds to the depth of her message. . The relationship between Sparkle and her younger, ‘better’ self, Sue (Margaret Qualley), is one such example of Fargeat’s cinematic intricacy. After Sparkle’s career is butchered by Harvey due to her age, the board searches for a “new Elizabeth Sparkle”, and finds her in Sue. Enamoured with her physical appeal, Harvey eagerly accepts Sue’s excuse for only being able to film every second week due to having to care for her sick mother. This excuse foreshadows Sue’s infant-like reliance on Sparkle’s spinal fluid to sustain her ‘new’ life, reusing the extractor to exist beyond the allocated seven days.
The casting of Demi Moore, a woman who has undeniably been subjected to the most deplorable parts of Hollywood criticism, primes the audience to not only recognise the Fargeat’s intent, but also unknowingly participate in the deeply ingrained standards women are subjected to. Upon leaving the cinema, I heard many variations of the phrase “she’s looking so good now”, in reference to the images of botched plastic surgeries that became attached to Moore’s name in recent years. Her casting serves as a poignant reminder of the real-life toll these oppressive ideals have on women in the film industry as well as presenting Moore with an opportunity to reclaim her narrative.
This film is a grizzly interrogation of the mistreatment of women in Hollywood and beyond. Fargeat also explores the repercussions of internalised misogyny on impeding solidarity between women through the intangible voice of the customer service representative reminding both Sue and Sparkle that “[they] are one”. Their anger at each other speaks to a broader narrative of women in Hollywood being pitted against each other, isolating them as their careers become overshadowed by the sexism that they witness and experience.
Other than Sue, Elizabeth Sparkle and a couple of background characters who remain unnamed – or renamed by Harvey — the only characters the audience are introduced to are men, as Fargeat demands the audience focus on the male-centric industry as a primary factor in women’s suffering. As the praise Sue receives increases, she hungers for more success and becomes the embodiment of Hollywood’s ‘darling’. However, her success only negatively impacts Sparkle, and Sue is aware that she is stealing life from the older woman, who ages drastically with each extra day that Sue takes for herself. While the tension between these two women is a focal point of the film, it is a poignant reminder that the industry intentionally manipulates the lives and experiences of women to distract from the deeply misogynistic foundation it thrives on.
My only criticism of the film is the runtime of 140 minutes, with the climactic ending of the film drawn out over approximately 45 minutes. The increasingly absurdist and surrealist resolution is marred by an unnecessarily egregious display of body horror, which detracts from the impact of earlier scenes, instead creating a comedic spectacle.
Regardless, The Substance remains a striking critique of the misogynistic values entrenched in Hollywood. It is a gruesome yet important commentary on the cost of conforming to an industry, and world, that prizes appearance over talent. Fargeat’s film is a satirical exposé of the grotesque reality beneath the industry’s glamorous veneer, prompting her audience to consider, if beauty is skin deep, how can we stop it from clawing its way out?
