David Farnor | On 06, Jan 2025

Director: Coralie Fargeat
Cast: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid
Certificate: 18

“You can’t escape from yourself.” Those are the ominous words that accompany The Substance, a black-market beauty product given to movie-star-turned-TV-fitness-guru Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore). It promises to give her a whole new version of herself – a younger, beautiful her, made out of her own DNA. The only catch? This younger version of herself shares the same consciousness, so they can each only exist for a week at a time, while the other stays in a coma-like state on the bathroom floor.

It’s an enticing offer for Elisabeth, who is about to turn 50 – an age that sends her TV exec, Harvey (Dennis Quaid), reeling away from her and towards any youthful alternative. When we meet Elisabeth, she’s still in remarkable shape, which only adds to the film’s darkly cruel satire: the very idea of hitting half a century is even more terrifying to the male-driven showbiz industry than the already-superficial spectre of someone’s appearance.

Director Coralie Fargeat’s script adds a tragic depth to that horror, as Elisabeth internalises that horror and gives into it. Seeing no other way to stay relevant, successful and valued, she takes The Substance – and out pops her spotless, shiny counterpart, Sue (Margaret Qualley). What ensues is The Picture of Dorian Gray meets The Fly, with a shot of The Neon Demon and Ginger Snaps thrown in for good measure.

Fargeat, who previously helmed 2017’s Revenge, is no stranger to nastiness and gore, and she gleefully dials up the disturbing imagery without hesitation. Uncomfortable ogling close-ups are jarringly juxtaposed with neon-liquid injections, bone-snapping transformations and lengthy takes of Dennis Quaid’s perma-tanned ghoul noisily slurping shrimp off a plate. As things escalate, things get more unsettling as well as more darkly funny, dragging us all inevitably to a place where it’s impossible for Elisabeth to win, whatever “win” might mean.

Demi Moore is sensational, delivering an awards-worthy turn that taps into her own screen history of pushing against female screen stereotypes, while bringing a surprising vulnerability to a character who could potentially have been unsympathetic in other hands. Margaret Qualley, meanwhile, is wonderful as the sparky rising star whose glint in her eye stems from knowing that she’s cheating herself as well as the industry.

The longer their symbiotic existence goes on for, the greedier they get – neither is capable of accepting their Faustian deal, whether that’s Sue wanting more time to be young, rich and adored, or Elisabeth, watching daytime TV in her fancy apartment too afraid to go outside but determined to sabotage Sue’s progress at any cost. It’s this central battle of self-esteem, an inner conflict grotesquely externalised, that makes The Substance more substantial than mere B-movie exploitation thrills (although there are plenty of those too).

One of the most striking scenes is devoid of any CGI or prosthetics, as Moore simply stares at herself in the mirror and, while preparing for a date, repeatedly sabotages her own make-up. Beneath the visceral surface, Fargeat quietly puts in the spotlight a tale of body dysmorphia sadly learnt from a toxic world that has taught a middle-aged woman not to accept herself as a whole. This might not be telling us much new, but rarely has the point been made with such stomach-churning intensity.

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