The Substance throws subtlety out the window

Artists and critics alike make a habit of applauding subtlety, maybe even overvaluing it. Often, viewers scoff at anything that is not filled with symbolism and subliminal messaging, categorizing it as low-brow or simple. But who made this rule? Why does every project have to take a “medicine in the candy” approach to be valued? The Substance bucks this trend as the newest critically acclaimed body horror that goes for broke at every turn.

Demi Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle, an aerobics instructor/actress with her own Walk of Fame star, who experiences a mid-life crisis after overhearing a crass executive (Dennis Quaid) named Harvey (hint hint) expressing his wishes to push her out the door. He insults her age and appearance, going beyond the insinuation that she is replaceable, to later just flat out saying it and firing her.

Disheartened, she ruminates on Harvey’s hurtful language, and while heading home, sees a picture of herself being removed from a large billboard. The distraction causes her to get in a violent car accident and a visit to the emergency room, where the younger of her two doctors slips her a card with a phone number and quietly comments that [“she’s] perfect.”. When she calls the number, she learns about a cell-replicating chemical solution that, when injected, will “unlock her DNA” and allow her to become a younger version of herself, whom she must switch off and on with every seven days. When Sue (Margaret Qually, Sanctuary), the younger version, starts stealing both time and anatomy from Elisabeth, the consequences for Elisabeth are irreversible and grotesque.

You may have heard of the sub-genre “body horror.” The Substance is the body-horrorest of body horror films you will ever see. While the film has a clear, strong and possibly repetitive message, it is not for the faint of heart (or other body parts for that matter). During its nearly two and a half hour run time, there are numerous scenes of blood, gore, and body metamorphoses; these despite the film not having much actual violence at all. Director Coralie Fargeat (Revenge) goes heavy on the stylized elements of the film, using amplified sounds, extreme close-ups and the occasional fish-eye lens effect to create a sensory overload for the audience. The goal of all these disconcerting technical elements is to hold a mirror up to viewers, highlighting how ageism and misogyny operate in tandem within the entertainment industry. Rather than display the mental and physical effects of these social ills subtly and sporadically throughout the story, Fargeat amplifies them at every turn.

The Substance does bear resemblance to many films in the “robot takeover” sub-genre in that, though not an actual robot, Sue begins as a seemingly empty vessel. In a heartfelt, dramatic version of this movie, she and Elisabeth would develop a mentor/student relationship that enriches both of their lives. But in the sci-fi universe, they are not allowed to co-exist and instead end up pitted against each other. Sue learns how to navigate the world through social interactions and the attention and opportunities that she is awarded; thus, she quickly views Elisabeth as disposable, nothing more than a barrier to her own continued success. In this way, the drug has the opposite effect from what Elisabeth intended.

The film will definitely turn a few stomachs, and as with the release of other gruesome films, such as the new Terrifier sequel, a common criticism will be that the volume of gore is unnecessary. Certainly, everything isn’t for everyone, and regardless of message, The Substance may not be everyone’s cup of tea (hmm). However, if you gravitate toward films of the Coca and Saffron variety, maybe you have already decided that you’re game. One could also criticize the film for being repetitive in its messaging, but then again, discrimination to oppressed parties feels very repetitive. An unfortunate reality is these social ills have spanned many generations. In this respect, such a story probably holds true and resonates with those who can relate.

The abundance of visual effects should not overshadow how strong the performances are. Quaid effectively plays Harvey, who is not just a smarmy chauvinist but a fairly disgusting human being. Early on in the film, he goes to the bathroom while on the phone, does not wash his hands and leaves to eat. His table manners in the next scene leave a lot to be desired. Harvey’s interactions with both Elisabeth and Sue lack any level of professionalism, empathy or genuineness, and he consistently speaks about Sue to others as though she is his “creation.”

Just the same, Moore commendably plays a forlorn former star who cannot peacefully appreciate the success she has achieved. While her decision to inject the substance in the first place suggests she is desperate to revisit her youth, her actions later in the film indicate that deep down, she would have relished simply having an authentic relationship with a protégé. Lastly, Qualley strikes a perfect balance in her role as an adaptive humanoid. Early in the film, she gives off blank expressions, empty stares and minimal speech. As she has more exposure to others and more time in the spotlight, her non-verbal communication becomes much more nuanced with eye rolls, head turns and shrugs.

For sci-fi and horror fans, The Substance may bring to mind Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream, a film about the crippling effects of drug use on four people with intersecting stories. Both films come across as quite downtrodden, with Requiem being the classic “It was good, but I’ll never watch it again” movie. The Substance dabbles in satire and offers a few more chuckles with its absurdity. One way or another, this film exists as the perfect example of how important it is to find your cup of tea. Although after watching some of the visual effects, you may trade the tea out for a large bottle of mouthwash.