Feminist body horror film ‘The Substance’ is brutal, bloody, and brilliant

Beauty is pain, and nobody knows that better than Coraline Fargeat. After making waves in 2017 with her debut feature Revenge, the French horror maestro returns for her sophomore feature The Substance, a slick, cynical entry in the world of feminist horror and an instant genre classic.

Starring Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, and Dennis Quaid, The Substance follows Elisabeth Sparkle (Moore) an aging fitness guru whose world is shattered when her manager (Quaid) drops her, citing her age as a roadblock to success. Devastated and desperate, Elisabeth discovers a mysterious substance that promises to change her life forever and deliver a better, more beautiful version of herself. But when that better, more beautiful version of herself (Qualley) begins to develop a mind of her own, a power struggle breaks out between the two halves of Elisabeth’s self, yielding bloody results.

Though she’s enjoyed a steady career in both TV and film over the past few decades (Please Baby Please and Feud: Capote vs. The Swans are both somewhat hidden gems), there’s no denying that when most folks hear the name “Demi Moore,” our mind conjures images of her from 30+ years ago: General Hospital, St. Elmo’s Fire, and Ghost. She’s continued to hone her craft as an artist, yet she’s somehow intrinsically tied to her past—perhaps more importantly to The Substance, how she looked in the past.

As Elisabeth Sparkle, Moore is simultaneously stoic and standoffish yet excruciatingly relatable in her vulnerabilities and self-doubts. Despite the fact that she’s Demi Moore, and drop-dead gorgeous by pretty much any definition, Elisabeth spends the entirety of The Substance plagued by a never-ending torrent of self-doubt and criticism. Though it’s sparked by the many leering, (almost comically) one-note men in her life, Elisabeth quickly internalizes their assessments and begins to literally and figuratively go to war with herself.

What ensues is a brutal, stomach-churning brawl for control of Elisabeth’s life and body as Moore squares off against Margaret Qualley’s Sue, the young, sexy, peppy (but still obsessed with appearances) version of Elisabeth spawned by the injection of the substance. Qualley’s (who, between Kinds of Kindness, Drive Away Dolls, and this, is having an excellent year) wide, empty-eyed smile is pitch-perfect for a clone born to be beautiful, and though Sue is nowhere near the whopper of a role that Elisabeth is, the early beats of the last act give Qualley the chance to explore more depths to the character beyond her smooth skin and tight glutes.

But while Elisabeth may spend the entire film obsessed with Sue’s looks (whether she’s in her body or not), it’s Moore who’s the central engine that drives the film to success—whether she’s under layers of Olivier Alfonso’s nightmarish FX makeup or simply staring herself down in the mirror, it’s impossible to tear your eyes from Moore.

There’s a bone-deep wariness and exhaustion behind Elisabeth Sparkle’s eyes that could only come from someone who’s spent decades enduring the industry herself. Even when The Substance has gone completely and utterly off the rails and into Brian Yuzna territory by the finale, Moore’s commitment to Elisabeth’s insecurity keeps the pulse of the film steady and strong, grounding the most outlandish and blood-soaked of finales.

If Moore is the Activator that makes The Substance work, the script is its biggest weakness—despite a 2+ hour runtime, the film doesn’t take time to explore the root of Sue and Elisabeth’s hatred for each other (or rather, themselves), and both versions of the character suffer from the film’s simplistic dialogue. Clunky dialogue is easy to forgive, though, with the sensory onslaught Fargeat has created with composer Benjamin Stefanski, production designer Stanislas Reydellet, and cinemetographer Benjamin Kracun. The film is an aesthetic marvel, even if an often sickening one.

Though the film’s commitment to genre tendencies (particularly the third act bloodbath and the clumsy dialogue) eats away at the overall effectiveness of its messaging, a career best performance from Juliane Moore and a simple, twisted premise make The Substance an unexpectedly heartbreaking, stomach-churning exploration of female self-destruction and a fearless piece of filmmaking.