Women across the world have long observed that they are not allowed to age in the same way that men are. Grey hair on a man is “distinguished”; on a woman it is witchy. Men can have lines on their face, it gives them character; women should be reaching for the needle at the sight of the first laughter line. Meryl Streep has spoken about the type of roles she was offered after she turned forty (mostly old crones), as has Angelina Jolie (mostly relegated to someone’s mother).
Writer / director Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance takes our obsession with youth and the body beautiful to extreme levels. Demi Moore stars as Elisabeth Sparkle, a fading film and TV star who is told her career is over simply because she has dared to reach fifty. She learns of a new substance, one that will spawn a younger, more beautiful version of herself and decides to try it, in a bid to resurrect her career. But this newer version of her (played by Margaret Qualley) seems to be going rogue with the strict rules that the substance requires, resulting in a grotesque body horror finale that is sure to stick in your mind long after the credits roll.
The film takes a Dorian Gray approach to its story. There is, quite literally, a massive portrait of a youthful Sparkle, which dominates her living room. As she obsesses over her survival in an industry that essentially feels like it hates older women, this portrait is a reminder of the star that once was. The opening sequence is a beautiful metaphor for the ageing star as her Walk of Fame space becomes tattered, broken and trashed, before finally being doused in sloppy burger ketchup.
Demi Moore – herself no stranger to press scrutiny – gives an incredibly vulnerable performance as Sparkle. It must have felt more than a little on the nose to take on such a role. She evolves from a wardrobe of sunshine yellows, postbox reds and cobalt blues to a twisted, greying, shadow of herself. Her performance requires a substantial physical transformation, but her eyes remain the key to how she is feeling. Often buried under prosthesis, we still get a sense of her character’s loneliness, frustration and bitterness. It is surely one to watch for awards season.
Fargeat creates an atmosphere that is almost operatic throughout the film – it revels in hyperbole and stereotype without ever sliding into cliché. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is Dennis Quaid’s sleazy TV executive, Harvey. He chomps on prawns, juices all over his face and fingers, as he tells Elisabeth that her career is no longer viable. “After fifty, it all stops,” he shrugs. He practically salivates over Margaret Qualley’s ingenue, Sue, as she is summoned to his office in her leotard. He slaps the backs of other old, white, male TV executives and encourages them to lay their gaze on his troop of topless dancers. “Pretty girls should always be smiling,” he tells Qualley. Often shot in extreme close up, he is every boss who has invaded your personal space; every creepy old man at a bar. Despite all of the body horror and blood, he is the most disgusting thing in this film.
If you have misophonia, The Substance is not the film for you. You can hear every 
pus-filled squelch, every clang of a steel-heeled boot, every slather of butter, every bone wrenched out of place. The sound design is absolutely incredible as it adds to the overall viewing experience. The effects are also beautifully executed. Sparkle’s ageing process is a real shock once we finally see her in the mirror and the “birthing” of Sue is a visceral triumph. The blood-soaked third act is the final exaggeration that Fargeat has to offer. It’s seemingly never ending but never once feels ridiculous.
Besides capturing the general odiousness of life as a woman in Hollywood, the film also makes clear points about the violence of ageing. Sparkle, in her wizened form, sits in a chair all day watching teleshopping and game shows whilst the vibrancy of LA plays out in her enormous window frame. But why go out? She is old and, therefore, invisible. Fargeat highlights the isolation that ageing can bring. When Elisabeth and Sue clash, it is perhaps a metaphor for our rage at seeing age set in. No one likes to find another grey hair or another wrinkle. It is a violence wreaked upon the body.
Offering a cautionary tale about the consequences of the narratives we push, The Substance is a shocking – yet relatable – film. Demi Moore gives a fantastic performance that really invites you inside her character’s head. Despite its brash colour palette and over-the-top approach, it’s a film that delivers a message we are all too familiar with. It might not be for the squeamish, but this should be essential viewing. One of the best films of the year.
The Substance is now playing in UK cinemas.
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