REVIEW: The Substance, Demi Moore Decomposes in Dark New Film
Coralie Fargeat’s body horror The Substance is being served with a tall glass of consumption, commodification of beauty, and the trends that need to continue to go out of style at a faster rate, telling women they are “nothing after 30” and to “smile.”
After workplace ageism on turning 50, (her boss feels she overstayed her welcome even after a successful career), Demi Moore’s character falls victim to the temptation of aging backward with a new “perfect” version of herself with a situation, to say it lightly, that slowly begins to glitch into a bloody, gory self-absorbed, fame chasing race to hold on to the strings of fan adoration, youth and the indulgences that come with it. Coralie takes the obscene to tilt, so much so you won’t know where to look in the high-octave opera-esque ending.
Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself?
– The Substance
You. Only better in every way.
Seriously.
You’ve got to try this new product. It’s called The Substance.
IT CHANGED MY LIFE.
It generates another you.
A new, younger, more beautiful, more perfect, you.
And there’s only one rule: You share time.
One week for you. One week for the new you.
Seven days each. A perfect balance.
Easy. Right?
If you respect the balance… what could possibly go wrong?
Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley are sensational, with both transforming into raged versions of themselves trapped at the hip in a risky secret procedure that has them swapping in and out of life, feeding off of each other and reliant on the other to do as they are told every seven days. As expected, it’s really hard to check out when you are experiencing youth again in a new body covering Vogue, getting your own new show, and hosting one of the biggest televised events on New Year’s Eve. What happens after that is probably one of the goriest scenes in horror to date that will leave you jaw-dropped and asking if this is really happening while possibly laughing in and out of trauma at the same damn time.
Dennis Quaid perfectly nails a repulsive-looking sexist entertainment executive who’s also aging but doesn’t have the same ruler applied to him while he simultaneously lusts after younger talent. You will laugh out loud, wince, and possibly get offended, but hopefully, remind yourself that the poke at the grasping for straws in the run from deterioration doesn’t discriminate.
The Substance premiered at the Cannes Film Festival.
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