In 1950, a pair of enduring show biz movies told two different, but similarly themed stories of aging actresses and the ease with which the industry leaves them behind. In All About Eve, ingenue Eve Harrington maneuvers her way into the life and social circle of Margo Channing, eventually usurping the roles that would have gone to her mentor. And in Sunset Boulevard, reclusive silent film star Norma Desmond seeks an opportunity to recapture the magic of her glory days.
Nearly 75 years later, Hollywood is still telling new stories of stars, particularly women, cast aside by an ever-evolving industry and its impossible standards of youth and beauty. This time it is in Coralie Fargeat’s darkly funny The Substance, a satirical and unsubtle body horror tale set in the heart of Hollywood.
Demi Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle, an A-list movie star in her youth who eventually transitioned to fitness TV star. Studio head Harvey (Dennis Quaid), looking to target a younger demographic, unceremoniously fires Elisabeth with a grin and a dripping mouthful of shrimp. Her day gets worse, but then she is presented an opportunity to change everything.
From the opening moments, Fargeat introduces her cynical version of Hollywood, the realistic version of forgotten celebrities simultaneously enshrined and reduced to names on a sidewalk. The studio where Elisabeth works is a labyrinthine maze of sound stages, dressing rooms, offices, and conference rooms. Posters of a younger, hotter Elisabeth adorn the walls in the hallway outside of “Sparkle Your Life with Elisabeth,” though the carpet instantly recalls the Overlook Hotel in The Shining. Every inch of the space is exaggerated and slightly off.
Demi Moore stars in THE SUBSTANCE – Courtesy of MUBI
In her world, though, everything is a reflection. Mirrors, windows, posters. She can’t escape her own image. You don’t have to be part of the film industry to deeply resonate with this. Instagram, Tik Tok, YouTube, CCTV and Ring doorbells. We cannot escape it either. Whether we want it or not, we are constantly on camera, available for the world to ogle or destroy.
But Elisabeth is offered a solution. She doesn’t have to live like this. She can have a better version of herself. All she has to do is call this number now and it can all be hers. Of course she calls. Of course she follows strange directions and wanders down a sketchy alley into a sketchier building in search of this better her. She finds it in a box of plastic packages and vials and hypodermics and the eponymous substance. The rules are straightforward. Remember you are one, the instructions implore. Switch every seven days. No exceptions.
With nothing to lose, Elisabeth takes a breath and goes for it. Soon, her body literally births a second Elisabeth. A younger, more perfect version with glowing skin, perky breasts, zero cellulite. This new version names herself Sue (Margaret Qualley). She spends a long time admiring her flawless figure in the mirror before going out to live her best life.
Margaret Qualley stars in THE SUBSTANCE — Courtesy of MUBI
Over the weeks and months that follow, an arrangement that initially seems ideal takes on a life of its own. The two women apparently share a consciousness, though the logistics of this are unclear. Greed, disdain, jealousy and despair creep in. The spectrum of womanhood is shown in stark relief through the experiences of these two women who are one. The intoxication of admiration; the cruel self-loathing and paralysis of failing to live up to unrealistic standards.
Fargeat’s bold and in-your-face aesthetic satirizes not the experience of women aging but the reaction to it. It’s not just about being pushed out of a career, but going unnoticed in public spaces. Being condescended to by people who can’t be bothered to see or hear them. The real horror of aging is not sagging skin or graying hair, but of becoming invisible and being forgotten. Demi Moore embodies these fears with wisdom and grace.
The Substance embraces the concept of body horror with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. From predatory Hollywood producers to the dangers of Botox and plastic surgery, the extremes are brought to life in vivid, unmistakable metaphor. Fargeat refuses to hold anything back, crafting a visceral, funny, and human story.
