"Pretty girls should always smile."
Highly sexualized and unapologetically grotesque, Coralie Target's The Substance is a provocative, wickedly clever look at the yearning we all feel to stay young.
Understandably crushed by the impossible beauty standards put on her by society's obsession with the young, Demi Moore stars as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once dazzling performer who finds herself hanging on for dear life to an industry that she's allowed to define her. But like her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Elisabeth is beginning to see her, well, sparkle dim as she loses her job leading an aerobics class for daytime TV. This is all thanks to a monstrous executive (Dennis Quaid) who shows little remorse when he cancels her program to make room for anyone 'young."
Heartbroken and confused about her purpose, Elisabeth learns of a mysterious product called The Substance. The black market drug, located within a set of locked doors in a back alley in Hollywood, initiates a molecular reaction that generates a younger, perfect version of oneself. And although the two act independently, they are said to share a consciousness, one that comes with a distinct rule regarding time. Seven days in one body and a switch is mandatory. No exceptions. However, as Elisabeth and her younger self, Sue (Margaret Qualley), continue to use The Substance, they uncover the unspoken side effects of pursuing youth and attention at all costs.
Taking her time to set the scene, Fargeat brilliantly toes the line of exhibiting favoritism. Systematically showcasing the dilemmas within each woman, she refuses to favor one over the other. Instead, she offers a unique vantage point as they each, beautiful in their individual ways, battle the insecurities that come with the pressure of fame, elegance, and grace.
Demi Moore goes against stereotype to give a career-defining performance as Elisabeth. She, in large part, is why The Substance works to the level it does. Her stark cry for help as she battles her inner demons is on full display from the onset as she portrays a beautiful being whose mind won't allow her to embrace herself and celebrate the woman she is. It's a painful reminder of the universality of the issue as she battles self-hatred and the negative perception of how the public sees her. Throw in a drug addiction, and the story becomes all too familiar as many yearn to discover the elusive fountain of youth.
Qualley is equally brilliant as Sue, Elisabeth's younger self. Shown as a sex-centric, budding woman, Sue is obsessed with neon workout clothes, oversized hoop earrings, and boys. As she settles into her newfound fame, she thrives on attention. So much so that she begins to reexamine her loyalty towards her older self. And as her own workout show shatters records, and she labors to remove the oversized self-portrait of Elisabeth hanging in their Hollywood apartment, you can't help but note the symbolism protruding from every orifice.
Together, they operate as one. Well, somewhat, at least. That is, until they don't. Again, a somewhat.
As the two begin to differ on their long-term goals and objectives, and the film creeps into its third act, you can't help but ponder how connected they are. The film exquisitely displays each woman's differing outlook, forcing viewers to analyze society's perception of beauty and how we glorify looks over, wait for it, substance.
Fargeat's personification of Hollywood and its players is emphatically unparalleled. Qualley, undoubtedly, gives a killer performance. For much of the film, she is the nucleus. That said, The Substance is Moore's tour-de-force. From start to finish, she is the power behind its effectiveness. And if viewers aren't convinced, wait until the last ten minutes. That, without question, will give you plenty to talk about.
