 |
| Images courtesy of Mubi |
The obsession with defying aging is universal, but the effects of aging are felt hardest by women. Our entire lives, we are forced to navigate the world via our appearance and willingness to appeal to the male gaze, with youthfulness being the most prized social currency. Everything revolves around sex appeal and vibrancy, and the second a woman shows the slightest sign of getting older, she is tossed to the side. Men are called "distinguished" when they have wrinkles and grey hair, while women are called "spinsters" and "hags." We "hit the wall," the men sneer into their microphones on their podcasts; starting at age thirty, we enter a mythical period where we don't matter anymore because society doesn’t find us attractive. Why even continue to exist if men don't want to fuck you? The Substance (2024) is a film about letting yourself become consumed by self-hate and the way the world chews women up and spits them out.
Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) is a famous TV aerobics instructor who just had her 50th birthday. Despite her enduring star power and high ratings, she is unceremoniously let go by Harvey (Dennis Quaid), a sleazy executive who wants to replace her with someone younger. After falling into a deep depression, Elisabeth discovers the existence of a highly secret procedure that uses the ominously named serum, The Substance. After injecting herself with the neon green liquid, she painfully births a younger version of herself out of her back. The hot, young, sexy version calls herself Sue (Margaret Qualley) and immediately finds opportunities thrown at her feet because of her looks. The only catch is that Sue and Elisabeth have to switch places every seven days, with grave consequences if they go over their time allotment.
It feels trite and condescending to call Moore "brave" for taking this role, as she has always been an incredible actress, but it is hard to ignore the real-life parallel of her status as an older star. Obviously, she is gorgeous and rocking it at sixty-one, but in the land of Hollywood, the types of roles she can take are severely limited. The movie business always looks for the next young starlet, a fresh face to sell to the masses. Even outside of the movies, women face ageism in the workplace, often being overlooked and undervalued as they approach their fifties and beyond. Aesthetically, the film emphasizes the difference between Sue and Elisabeth's life experiences by using bright colors and sunny lighting when Sue is in control and muted colors and shadows when Elisabeth takes the wheel. Intriguingly, it seems as though Sue and Elisabeth maintain separate memories, and whoever isn't in control goes into a coma-like status.
Qualley's performance is equally nuanced, oscillating between childish giddiness and narcissistic selfishness. At first, she treats Elisabeth reverently; technically, she is her "mother" after all. Eventually, as she begins to enjoy the freedom and attention of her youth, she resents giving up a week of her life to switch with Elisabeth as it hinders her own progress. Sue is ridiculously sexualized, with the camera taking every moment it can to zoom in on her ass and crotch, an over-the-top parody of the male gaze. She has to give herself over body and soul to maintain her position at the top, though it is only temporary while she has her youthful zeal. Her fears are personified and made flesh by Elisabeth, and no matter how hard she tries, she eventually will be in her shoes after twenty years or so, a vicious cycle that is infinite and inevitable.
As the film leaves the first act, the body horror aspects start to creep in, with Sue stealing more and more time away from Elisabeth, both figuratively and literally. Eventually, the allure of being young becomes like a drug, and the more time Elisabeth spends as Sue, the more she begins to hate herself. During one scene, Elisabeth is applying her makeup to go out on a date, but she continuously compares herself to Sue, and she spirals into a chasm of despair, applying more makeup, taking it off, putting it back on again, grieving the loss of her younger face, and unable to see that she is still beautiful even with the wrinkles. Makeup companies are more than willing to exploit these fears, selling lotions and procedures to retain a look that is supposed to be ephemeral.
Although The Substance touches on deeper themes, it also fully embraces farce and satire, especially as it barrels into the wild third act. After suffering the unsavory physical ramifications of Sue using extra time, Elisabeth morphs into the monster that previously only resided in her mind and through her body dysmorphia. There's a touch of hagsploitation, a dash of Brian Yuzna's Society (1989), and a ton of inspiration from Frank Henenlotter's fleshy creations. The first two acts of the narrative are relatively straightforward, but the third act goes deliciously off the rails into a blood-splattered extravaganza. I predict this turning point will be a turn-off for a large portion of general audiences, not only because of the intense gore but because it also dives straight into absurdism.
The Substance is an incredible film that works on many levels. It's a scathing commentary on aging and an excellent old-fashioned splatter gore freak-out for the ages.
--Michelle Kisner