There’s no denying that beauty comes with an incredibly high price tag.
Looks – or general attractiveness – is a subject I don’t much cover ‘round these parts, mostly because I don’t attach a whole lot of meaning to it as a concept. I’ve always been more of a story person, and whoever gets cast in the big or small roles has never been something I’ve put much thought into. For example, I’m not one to go gaga over the next Brad Pitt project much less the upcoming major motion picture next in line for Margot Robbie: as I said, my schtick has always been to focus more on the ideas being presented and just what I’m supposed to make of it all. Pretty faces come and go far too fast for me to associate anything substantially to them; and Hollywood has proven that it’s a mill that’ll churn out the next Brad, Margot, and whoever is pleasing to the eye as soon as they can.
But it is one of the big rules in Hollywood that a pretty face or a flattering figure speaks volumes to what any studio perceives could be a lucrative bottom line; and – as such – those key players in Tinseltown have continued to push the boundaries in ways too many to fathom. Indeed, there’s no other place on the entire planet that has made beauty the central pursuit of so, so, so many. After all, good-looking people are more successful, no? Good-looking people make the world go round. Every one of us – at one time or another – has relied on his or her good looks – if not prayed for them – to open a door to a job, a career, or even a significant other of our choice. Beauty sells, and everyone is buying.
As good as it is (and it is very good), 2024’s The Substance will be remembered as a cautionary fable about being extremely careful what you seek in an industry that is only skin deep. Written and directed by French sensation Coralie Fargeat, it’s a story that we’ve honestly seen before but perhaps not at the same degree of viciousness directed specifically at the entertainment industry, the very people who have profited off allure since the camera’s invention. It stars Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley as ‘two halves of the same whole’ (don’t fret – it’ll make sense) along with screen veteran Dennis Quaid in a key role. Still, the real stars here might be the gifted craftspeople who make it about as bloody, chaotic, and horrific as any surreal Satire with a Science Fiction edge could ever possibly be.
It's a veritable feast for the eyes … but with beauty as its foundation should you have expected anything less?
Looks – or general attractiveness – is a subject I don’t much cover ‘round these parts, mostly because I don’t attach a whole lot of meaning to it as a concept. I’ve always been more of a story person, and whoever gets cast in the big or small roles has never been something I’ve put much thought into. For example, I’m not one to go gaga over the next Brad Pitt project much less the upcoming major motion picture next in line for Margot Robbie: as I said, my schtick has always been to focus more on the ideas being presented and just what I’m supposed to make of it all. Pretty faces come and go far too fast for me to associate anything substantially to them; and Hollywood has proven that it’s a mill that’ll churn out the next Brad, Margot, and whoever is pleasing to the eye as soon as they can.
But it is one of the big rules in Hollywood that a pretty face or a flattering figure speaks volumes to what any studio perceives could be a lucrative bottom line; and – as such – those key players in Tinseltown have continued to push the boundaries in ways too many to fathom. Indeed, there’s no other place on the entire planet that has made beauty the central pursuit of so, so, so many. After all, good-looking people are more successful, no? Good-looking people make the world go round. Every one of us – at one time or another – has relied on his or her good looks – if not prayed for them – to open a door to a job, a career, or even a significant other of our choice. Beauty sells, and everyone is buying.
As good as it is (and it is very good), 2024’s The Substance will be remembered as a cautionary fable about being extremely careful what you seek in an industry that is only skin deep. Written and directed by French sensation Coralie Fargeat, it’s a story that we’ve honestly seen before but perhaps not at the same degree of viciousness directed specifically at the entertainment industry, the very people who have profited off allure since the camera’s invention. It stars Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley as ‘two halves of the same whole’ (don’t fret – it’ll make sense) along with screen veteran Dennis Quaid in a key role. Still, the real stars here might be the gifted craftspeople who make it about as bloody, chaotic, and horrific as any surreal Satire with a Science Fiction edge could ever possibly be.
It's a veritable feast for the eyes … but with beauty as its foundation should you have expected anything less?
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few minor hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A fading celebrity decides to use a black-market drug, a cell-replicating substance that temporarily creates a younger, better version of herself.”
There are a great many truisms that collide within the framework of The Substance, and it’s these various collisions that make the film work on its many levels.
For example, one need not be a marquee screen idol to understand the value of keeping one’s looks in some good shape. As aging takes its toll, we’re cautioned to eat better, to exercise a bit more, and to generally take better care of ourselves. I’ve heard it said that our bodies is the only real vehicle we get in this wild ride of life, so it becomes increasingly important to insure that we’re doing everything possible to make it last. Despite the best efforts of scientists, we still have no access to trade-in models.
Also, success has always been a key motivator in just about any professional or personal pursuit. Of course, we always want to do well – to give it our all and see some return for our investments – but nothing replaces the absolute euphoria that goes hand-in-hand with achieving a big win, am I right? Closing that big sale, penning a particularly effective movie review (and seeing it widely read), or seeing one’s child walk up to home plate and hit a homerun produces a rush of excitement unlike anything else in life … well, with perhaps sex being the only exception. Doing good feeds our self-esteem, and doing exceptional helps us open doors to even greater successes.
Because The Substance – for the most part – obsesses over such concepts that everyone can relate to, the film rather easily hits that ball out of the park. No matter what your lot in life is, I suspect you can identify with Elisabeth Sparkle’s coming to terms with her fading glory even though she attaches so much of it to her sex appeal. Yes, that’s debatably the business she’s in as a morning fitness enthusiast who puts her viewing audiences through their sweaty paces for a major television network; but that core association between her (as a character) and us (as her audience) remains applicable despite a bit of glamorization of a lifestyle few of us will live to experience.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A fading celebrity decides to use a black-market drug, a cell-replicating substance that temporarily creates a younger, better version of herself.”
There are a great many truisms that collide within the framework of The Substance, and it’s these various collisions that make the film work on its many levels.
For example, one need not be a marquee screen idol to understand the value of keeping one’s looks in some good shape. As aging takes its toll, we’re cautioned to eat better, to exercise a bit more, and to generally take better care of ourselves. I’ve heard it said that our bodies is the only real vehicle we get in this wild ride of life, so it becomes increasingly important to insure that we’re doing everything possible to make it last. Despite the best efforts of scientists, we still have no access to trade-in models.
Also, success has always been a key motivator in just about any professional or personal pursuit. Of course, we always want to do well – to give it our all and see some return for our investments – but nothing replaces the absolute euphoria that goes hand-in-hand with achieving a big win, am I right? Closing that big sale, penning a particularly effective movie review (and seeing it widely read), or seeing one’s child walk up to home plate and hit a homerun produces a rush of excitement unlike anything else in life … well, with perhaps sex being the only exception. Doing good feeds our self-esteem, and doing exceptional helps us open doors to even greater successes.
Because The Substance – for the most part – obsesses over such concepts that everyone can relate to, the film rather easily hits that ball out of the park. No matter what your lot in life is, I suspect you can identify with Elisabeth Sparkle’s coming to terms with her fading glory even though she attaches so much of it to her sex appeal. Yes, that’s debatably the business she’s in as a morning fitness enthusiast who puts her viewing audiences through their sweaty paces for a major television network; but that core association between her (as a character) and us (as her audience) remains applicable despite a bit of glamorization of a lifestyle few of us will live to experience.
While behind the wheel of her car, Elisabeth is distracted momentarily by one of her billboards being ripped down; and she finds herself in an accident requiring medical attention. In the hospital and emotionally exhausted, she eventually breaks down in tears, leaving her attending physician to exit stage left because he’s not apt to deal with a crying woman. However, the attending male nurse politely suggests – after a cursory exam of her back – that she could be a good candidate for something unsaid. After she leaves the building, she discovers a flash drive in her coat pocket along with a note that simply reads: “This saved my life.”
On the drive, Elisabeth discovers an advertisement for something called the Substance, a chemical that apparently offers the opportunity for – ahem – another you. Initially, she dismisses it, but it isn’t long before her nagging frustration gets the better of her, and she calls to place an order. A day or two later, she receives a key card that opens the door to a secret place in the bad part of town. Inside, she matches her card to a safety deposit box that contains her very first treatment for this unheard-of science.
There’s a bit more to the program, but I’ll stop there for fear of spoiling too many of the discoveries waiting for your time with The Substance. It’s a slow-burning delight – a bit fat in a few spots – but that’s probably as Fargeat intended. As often happens with parables of this type, there are rules that must be followed – often severely – in order for the formula to work (that pumpkin’s not always going to be a carriage, especially not after midnight, Cinderella); and there’s always a breakdown of procedure that opens doors to the darkest, wildest destinations. Yes, that definitely happens here, and it’s pretty damn glorious. Just as temporal dynamics suggest that there can’t be two of you occupying the same space without the resulting galactic catastrophe, the same moral of the story comes into play in the film’s second half when Sue (Margaret Qualley) – Elisabeth’s somewhat young doppelganger – decides she needs a bit more ‘me time’ in defiance of the prescribed doctrine. Needless to say, neither lady emerges quite the same as they were when they went into this bold agreement; and viewers are encouraged to buckle up for a finish that’s spills more blood than any single body could ever retain.
Now, this isn’t to say that I was completely won over by The Substance.
As a message film, it isn’t as if this premise hasn’t been probed before. A good many storytellers have sounded off on our cultural obsession with perfection (or the pursuit of it), though I will say I’ve rarely experienced one with as much gore. (Seriously, there are buckets and buckets and buckets of blood once it starts flowing, along with some amazing costuming and prosthetic work that hasn’t been industry used in ages.) Many in the media have christened the story as a Body Horror – a unique subset of the genre that focuses on grotesque violations to the human body or whatever creature is at the center of the tale – and that’s unarguably true. But far more of the picture works thematically as a biting but still somewhat conventional satire, and on that front it’s a vastly stronger and far more relevant effort.
On the drive, Elisabeth discovers an advertisement for something called the Substance, a chemical that apparently offers the opportunity for – ahem – another you. Initially, she dismisses it, but it isn’t long before her nagging frustration gets the better of her, and she calls to place an order. A day or two later, she receives a key card that opens the door to a secret place in the bad part of town. Inside, she matches her card to a safety deposit box that contains her very first treatment for this unheard-of science.
There’s a bit more to the program, but I’ll stop there for fear of spoiling too many of the discoveries waiting for your time with The Substance. It’s a slow-burning delight – a bit fat in a few spots – but that’s probably as Fargeat intended. As often happens with parables of this type, there are rules that must be followed – often severely – in order for the formula to work (that pumpkin’s not always going to be a carriage, especially not after midnight, Cinderella); and there’s always a breakdown of procedure that opens doors to the darkest, wildest destinations. Yes, that definitely happens here, and it’s pretty damn glorious. Just as temporal dynamics suggest that there can’t be two of you occupying the same space without the resulting galactic catastrophe, the same moral of the story comes into play in the film’s second half when Sue (Margaret Qualley) – Elisabeth’s somewhat young doppelganger – decides she needs a bit more ‘me time’ in defiance of the prescribed doctrine. Needless to say, neither lady emerges quite the same as they were when they went into this bold agreement; and viewers are encouraged to buckle up for a finish that’s spills more blood than any single body could ever retain.
Now, this isn’t to say that I was completely won over by The Substance.
As a message film, it isn’t as if this premise hasn’t been probed before. A good many storytellers have sounded off on our cultural obsession with perfection (or the pursuit of it), though I will say I’ve rarely experienced one with as much gore. (Seriously, there are buckets and buckets and buckets of blood once it starts flowing, along with some amazing costuming and prosthetic work that hasn’t been industry used in ages.) Many in the media have christened the story as a Body Horror – a unique subset of the genre that focuses on grotesque violations to the human body or whatever creature is at the center of the tale – and that’s unarguably true. But far more of the picture works thematically as a biting but still somewhat conventional satire, and on that front it’s a vastly stronger and far more relevant effort.
Also, in the first half of the film, there are sequences that just don’t resonate as strongly with me as perhaps they’ve done with others (i.e. Dennis Quaid – as an overtly misogynistic studio executive – delivers a great performance but it borders a bit too closely to outright parody at times). They’re often amplified with curious sound choices and uncharacteristic or oddly framed close-ups, and it’s all meant to rather lazily amplify the director’s condemnation of bad behavior, beauty versus ugliness, or the general lack of social norms. Again, this has been done before elsewhere, and I found it growing tiresome quickly. Sadly (and in typical Hollywood fashion), Fargeat denies her lead females any positive male roles models while rather shamelessly allowing Elisabeth and Sue to literally beat each other up. In doing so, the film eliminates any culpability whatsoever on the phenomenon of females contributing to proliferation of unhealthy body stereotypes, and I think that’s an oversight.
Honestly, on this topic, I think there’s plenty of blame to go around … yet I’m not convinced that Fargeat would agree.
The Substance (2024) was produced by Blacksmith, Film France, and Working Title Films. A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is playing theatrical across the United States. As for the technical specifications? Wow. I don’t say this lightly, but – even though I’m no trained video expert – I thought this flick looked damn phenomenal from start-to-finish. It’s the kind of production that deserves to be studied – maybe even looked at casually by general audiences – because there’s something worth noticing in arguably every sequence if not every frame. (I know, I know: that might be a bit of hyperbole, but it’s one of those rare cinematic experiences that doesn’t come along every day, so take it for how I’ve intended.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, I viewed this one via streaming; as such, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly recommended.
Mind you: I don’t often agree with my ‘cultural betters,’ largely because I don’t always see the world in the same fashion they do … but I’d be a fool to argue against the remarkable visual palate that is so much of The Substance (2024). As a didactic drama, it’s highly accessible to just about anyone, whether it be the messages about just what the pursuit of beauty costs, how elusive the Fountain of Youth remains, or how vile a society is that makes any gender go to such lengths to highlight attractiveness. Though I think Fargeat’s indictment was a bit soft on the individuals involved – Elisabeth Sparkle took the first step down this dark spiral, regardless of the narrative framing – The Substance is a rare spectacle that accomplishes far more than most films ever conceive.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Working Title Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Substance (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Honestly, on this topic, I think there’s plenty of blame to go around … yet I’m not convinced that Fargeat would agree.
The Substance (2024) was produced by Blacksmith, Film France, and Working Title Films. A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is playing theatrical across the United States. As for the technical specifications? Wow. I don’t say this lightly, but – even though I’m no trained video expert – I thought this flick looked damn phenomenal from start-to-finish. It’s the kind of production that deserves to be studied – maybe even looked at casually by general audiences – because there’s something worth noticing in arguably every sequence if not every frame. (I know, I know: that might be a bit of hyperbole, but it’s one of those rare cinematic experiences that doesn’t come along every day, so take it for how I’ve intended.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, I viewed this one via streaming; as such, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly recommended.
Mind you: I don’t often agree with my ‘cultural betters,’ largely because I don’t always see the world in the same fashion they do … but I’d be a fool to argue against the remarkable visual palate that is so much of The Substance (2024). As a didactic drama, it’s highly accessible to just about anyone, whether it be the messages about just what the pursuit of beauty costs, how elusive the Fountain of Youth remains, or how vile a society is that makes any gender go to such lengths to highlight attractiveness. Though I think Fargeat’s indictment was a bit soft on the individuals involved – Elisabeth Sparkle took the first step down this dark spiral, regardless of the narrative framing – The Substance is a rare spectacle that accomplishes far more than most films ever conceive.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Working Title Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Substance (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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