The Substance

Beauty standards for women in the 21st century are as unattainable as they are specific. It is as though only a certain type of woman is allowed to be admired: a youthful lady with clear skin, skinny without being starved, and of course an hourglass silhouette to boot. Yes, we exist in a “reformed” era of body positivity, where discussing how harmful these ideals are is no longer taboo and the definition of beauty has supposedly been expanded. Yet the expectations persist, whether it’s with the incessant joking about Ozempic, the lacking representation of all body types on-screen (which even The Substance falters in), or the unhealthy idolization of that certain body type by young girls. In her daring 2024 release The Substance, Coralie Fargeat takes aim at these hyperspecific impossibilities with a film that feels simultaneously like a cry of frustration and an unrestrained chortle at how idiotic these standards truly are. Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley are top tier in this film, but it is Coralie Fargeat's immaculate direction that steals the show. It made me squirm, it made me grimace, but most of all, it made me laugh. 

The Substance follows aging former movie star Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) who loses her job as a TV fitness instructor. She decides to take The Substance in order to create Sue: a younger, more beautiful version of herself (Margaret Qualley) that can make it in Hollywood in a way her 50-year-old self is no longer able to. The story gets increasingly ridiculous as it goes on, but what I appreciate about The Substance is that it does not bother with fluff that it knows the audience is uninterested in. There’s no tedious arc where Elisabeth has to hide this secret from her loved ones because she has no loved ones to speak of! We never learn about who created The Substance because what matters is the fact that it exists at all and that it confirms every insecurity Elisabeth has about her body. This lean storytelling does mean that every character outside of Elisabeth and Sue are glorified plot devices. However, the way both characters are developed through Coralie Fargeat’s gripping direction more than makes up for the writing deficiencies for everyone else. 

Truly, the shining attribute of The Substance is its visual storytelling. We don’t need a monologue about how ugly Elisabeth feels because we can see her desperation and dissatisfaction through expertly framed shots of her face, juxtaposition with the physicality of Margaret Qualley’s charismatic Sue, and Demi Moore’s painful and egoless performance. Perhaps the points made about the impossible beauty standard women are held to, the insecurity this fosters in women, and the relentless pursuit of perfection through plastic surgery are fairly obvious. But Coralie Fargeat dissects them all in the most outrageous way possible, crafting a gruesome satire that is an absolute delight to watch escalate. 

Though I dislike connecting films to my personal life in reviews, my profound enjoyment of this film is hard to explain without discussing my emotional attachment to it. As a woman who could empathize with much of the loathing Elisabeth feels towards her own body, there was something powerful about emotions I once thought were isolating being shoved into the spotlight. The solidarity I felt with the audience I saw The Substance alongside as we laughed, screamed, and shuddered was euphoric. It may not be the most nuanced portrayal of body image disturbance that I have ever seen, but the fact that such a deep-seated insecurity is able to be poked fun at in such an absurd way is truly an accomplishment. 

The Substance does not solve misogyny. It will not fix anyone’s negative perception of their own bodies. The impossibly high beauty standards for women remain as lofty as ever with the release of The Substance. But it never had to do any of that. What it does offer is catharsis with the acknowledgment that the normalization of body image disturbance is truly bizarre. Its satire has limitations — especially with the fact that it only depicts one specific type of woman impacted by these beauty standards — but for the right audience, it can be intensely satisfying and even necessary. If nothing else, it is bound to be one of the most memorable experiences of the year.

9/10