“Is it over yet? Is it over yet? Is it over yet?”
This phrase is often evoked from audience members attending two types of films. The first being one that drags on for too long, leaving moviegoers squirming in their seats and checking their phones from sheer boredom.
The second type of film capable of eliciting this reaction also causes squirming in seats, but this time due to the shocking, grotesque events transpiring on screen.
“The Substance” is the latter — a sickeningly disturbing film that will permanently sear itself into viewers’ brains, then continue to stay there no matter how hard one tries to forget.
In “The Substance,” an injection is developed that forces mitosis in the user, creating another version of themselves that is much younger, more attractive and physically perfect in every way.
Aging actress Elizabeth Sparkle, played by Demi Moore, uses this substance after feeling her fame fade in correlation with her youth. As a result, she’s able to live a double life as “Sue” — her clone played by the 29-year-old Margaret Qualley — and once again reap the benefits of a film industry that caters to the young and pretty.
The catch is, Elizabeth can only stay in her new body for a week at a time and must regularly return to reality in order to regenerate.
The intense body horror of “The Substance” is comparative to that of director Darren Aronofsky’s “Black Swan,” twisting someone into an unrecognizable beast, akin to what would be seen in a David Cronenberg film, or perhaps John Carpenter’s classic “The Thing.”
Director and writer Coralie Fargeat also heavily invokes the color pallet of Stanley Kubrick, boldly juxtaposing vibrant primary colors against sterile whites and blacks.
“The Substance” is definitely not for those with weak stomachs, and if one is certain they have a strong tolerance for gore and horror, they will likely leave the theater with altered self-perceptions.
In fact, self-reflection is the primary theme of “The Substance,” shining a harsh light on the beauty standards that women — and men, though to a lesser extent — have to deal with to become successful not just in Hollywood, but in every aspect of life.
Sparkle is thrown aside by her studio like expired food the second it realizes her looks don’t sell anymore. It’s also brilliant how the film tricks watchers into feeling worse for the younger version of Sparkle, even though she endures less, simply because, subconsciously, audiences are engrained to be more sympathetic toward those who are more conventionally attractive.
Sparkle’s solution of this experimental transformation may sound delusional and nonsensical, but in truth, the film’s most alarming component is unfortunately much more realistic than its grotesque sci-fi elements.
“The Substance” highlights how normalized it is in Hollywood — an industry that has recently rebranded itself as inclusive and accepting — to treat women as nothing more than a spectacle to be ogled at and subsequently tossed aside when they no longer fit the strict conventional beauty standards created by a superficial industry.
When this is taken into account, Sparkle can’t be blamed for going to any length just to be treated as a person worthy of respect again.
And that’s the film’s true triumph — that for all the ghastly, morbidly creative body horror of “The Substance,” it also has just what the title promises: substance.
The body dysmorphia and eating disorders women grapple with as a product of societal beauty standards imposed on them is an important story to tell, and “The Substance” tells it better than any film since the aforementioned “Black Swan” or Todd Haynes’ breakout biopic “Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story.”
Maybe that’s why “The Substance” worms itself into audiences’ brains more than a traditional, run-of-the-mill horror film — because the scariest part of it lies not in the hyper-realistic practical effects or phenomenal acting performances, but in the uncomfortable truth that the nightmare being seen on screen plays over and over again in the minds of those who aren’t deemed pretty enough, skinny enough or young enough.
Rating: 4.5/5