The Substance Review – Demi Moore Is Fearless in Visceral Feminist Body Horror | Film

TThe female body is a horror movie waiting to happen. From puberty and the horrific onset of menstruation, in photographs like Brian De Palma’s Carrier and John Fawcett’s Gingerbread cookiesto pregnancy and childbirth – Rosemary’s baby is the obvious example – women have provided a rich source of inspiration for genre filmmakers over the past half century. But look a little closer and two trends become apparent: the vast majority of horror films based on the female body deal with various aspects of the reproductive system, and are largely made by men (Titan And The first omen(Two recent examples of films using pregnancy for horror are notable exceptions.) And this is part of what makes French director Coralie Fargeat’s heartbreaking, visceral second feature so refreshing: The substance not only offers a female perspective on women’s bodies, but also argues that things really get messed up when fertility is a distant memory.

Of course, there’s no shortage of horror films that use the older female body for grotesque shock value. They’re a staple of the “hagsploitation” subgenre – think Mia Goth covered in prosthetics made of flabby flesh in Ti West’s XBut the starting point for The substance is not so much the body itself as a reaction to the idea of ​​it. The story is triggered by the violent turn in attitudes as a woman reaches her 50s and what society considers her built-in aging. It is gleefully excessive stuff – a film that conjures up scandalous and monstrous images and then covers them all up in more blood. It makes Fruit Chan’s 2004 film Dumplings seem like a model of tasteful restraint (and this was, you may recall, a film that served up a menu of dim sum full of human fetuses in its quest for beauty and rejuvenation). Deep within all the oozing spinal fluid and pimple-like growths here, there is a kernel of credibility: The substance immerses us in the deranged, disorienting emotional carnage of menopause in a way that few other films have managed.

In the central role of movie star and TV fitness instructor Elisabeth Sparkle, Demi Moore gives the most fearless and open performance of her career. Elisabeth has spent her entire adult life in front of the camera and knows all too well that the industry can forgive many things, but aging is not one of them. She celebrates her 50th birthday while having lunch with her boss, the brash TV executive Harvey (Dennis Quaid). He demolishes a plate of shrimp (the sound is turned up to a disgusting volume throughout the film, but the crunching and crackling of shellfish is particularly painful) and casually terminates her contract.

Depressed, with nothing but the endless wasteland of irrelevance to look forward to, Elisabeth is an ideal customer for the Substance, a hidden market cellular reproduction drug that promises a new you—literally, a box-fresh, wrinkle-free version synthesized from your existing genetic material and “born” in the most gruesome way imaginable. Elisabeth’s dewy replicant is Sue (Margaret Qualley), a physically perfect specimen destined for instant stardom after she takes over the metal leotard and the central role in Elisabeth’s recently abandoned fitness show. Awkward. There are caveats to this uneasy coexistence—the new version and the original maintain a delicate symbiotic balance; they must trade places every seven days, and the new incarnation must be stabilized daily. It’s a macabre Faustian pact—part Dorian Gray, part Gremlins.

The theme of futuristic body modification is an enduring fascination for Fargeat: her 2014 short film Reality+ was about an implanted brain chip that gave the recipient the perception of having the perfect body. This was followed by her blood-soaked feature film debut, Revenge (2017) tapped into the anger of the #MeToo movement and set the tone for the precarious balance between feminism and exploitation that characterizes her latest film.

I must admit that I had some reservations about the overt objectification of the central female character in Revenge (played by Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz). Based on the evidence of that film and The substanceFargeat would next to Blue is the warmest color director Abdellatif Kechiche as one of the most ass-obsessed filmmakers working today. But here, the way the camera worships at the altar of impeccably toned butts and glistening elasticity works perfectly. Elisabeth is trained to view the world through the lens of the entertainment industry; one that magnifies even the smallest imperfection, equating youth with worth. It’s no wonder she resorts to desperate measures.

Perhaps it hardly needs saying, but this is not the film to watch for realism and internal logic. Fargeat prefers to ignore the question of whether there is a shared consciousness between the two women. “Remember that you are one,” warns the flashcard instruction manual that comes with the vials of Substance. Inevitably, however, Elisabeth and Sue find themselves at war over the balance of their dwindling shared resources. It is a battle that can never end well for either of them. But isn’t that, ultimately, the curse of every woman in the public eye? The one competition she will always lose is with her younger self.