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Push It
By Jourdain Searles

The Substance
Dir. Coralie Fargeat, U.K., MUBI

In a desolate, nearly apocalyptic Los Angeles, Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) is on the verge of being replaced. A big star in the ’80s, she now has little more than an underperforming workout show and memories of brighter days. Her producer Harvey (Dennis Quaid) is bored of her and on the hunt for younger talent. The show itself is very retro, its stars costumed in leotards and colorful tights that pay clear homage to the Jane Fonda workout videos of the ’80s. Like Jane before her, Elisabeth has been able to capitalize on her fame by extending her influence in media. But in a place like Los Angeles, youth is the only currency that never expires. And now in middle age, her ability to make her bosses more money has dwindled. Or so they believe. Distraught by her growing cultural irrelevance, Elisabeth is desperate to hold on to the spotlight. But when she learns about a mysterious product called “The Substance,” she sees an opportunity to grab the public interest again.

The Substance is a neon green concoction that, once injected, activates the DNA and creates a younger version of yourself, one that will be unaffected by the aging process. A “food matrix” is provided for the dormant body as are containers for a “stabilizer” that comes from the body itself and serves to keep the alternate form solid. After taking The Substance, Elizabeth grows a younger version of herself. Mimicking the splitting of an atom, the younger version of Elisabeth births gorily from her back like a 20-something newborn: fully formed, smooth, and flawless. Once the being gets her bearings, she sews Elisabeth back up and becomes a new person, named Sue (Margaret Qualley). The rules of this new way of life are simple: Elisabeth spends seven days as herself, and seven as Sue. The balance must be maintained, with neither body spending more than a week out in the world at a time. In the meantime, the unused body lies motionless in the apartment, at the mercy of whoever happens to be in charge that week.

Once Sue goes out into the world, the difference is striking. She takes over Elisabeth’s show and catches the attention of any man who sees her, walking the L.A. streets with youthful confidence, oozing sexual power. Director Coralie Fargeat shoots Qualley in an aggressively erotic manner, her camera ogling the actress like she’s Megan Fox in Michael Bay’s Transformers movies. Self-aware to the point of parody, The Substance makes its point early and keeps making it on a continuous loop. Using an overtly erotic visual language that verges on the puritanical, Fargeat bludgeons the viewer, reducing men to slobbering wolves unable to contain themselves in the presence of a youthful woman. The film’s women have no artistic ambition beyond the thrill of being watched and fawned over. While Elisabeth yearns for adoration, Sue seems to feed on it with no idea of what to do with it. In The Substance, the goal of being in the public eye is simply to be watched closely and often. Neither Elisabeth nor Sue knows what to do with herself when she isn’t being looked at—no reason to be on top aside from the desire to be consumed, like a product. There’s no dream role Elisabeth covets or planned passion project. Fame for its own sake is the only goal The Substance shows any interest in. A smarter film would investigate why Elisabeth feels so empty in the first place, with Sue as a catalyst for that realization.

Despite having the same genetic material, there’s little connection between Elisabeth and Sue. They don’t seem to share one consciousness or even have a baseline understanding of each other. And the film around them does little to establish either woman beyond her symbolic differences. Neither of them has any friends or interactions with their collaborators. No family members call or drop by. So when Sue starts taking more and more time as the “live” body without switching back, no one is around to notice Elisabeth’s increased reclusion. Sue begins to resent having anything to do with the older woman, mistreating Elisabeth’s body and taking over her plush apartment. In the rare moments when Elisabeth regains control, she calls The Substance’s helpline, only to be repeatedly told that she and Sue are the same. As her original body deteriorates, their conflict only worsens, barreling toward a gruesome conclusion.

Seven years after her directorial debut Revenge, Fargeat is once again telling a story about the way women are perceived by the men around them. A rape-revenge thriller in the tradition of I Spit on Your Grave, the film offers a subversive point of view that examines the way young, beautiful women are underestimated and objectified. Despite its lofty ambitions, Revenge often resembled the films it was aiming to critique—emotionally shallow, aggressively violent, and ultimately predictable. The Substance is similarly simplistic, and the film struggles to say anything new and profound about beauty standards for women, especially as they age. The further Elisabeth’s life worsens, the more it seems like the root of her problems has more to do with the way she sees herself. The animosity between Elisabeth and Sue can be read as a form of self-hatred, with Sue’s antagonism externalizing the way Elisabeth brutalizes herself mentally. As Sue, Qualley is more creature than person, driven to dominate her environment at all costs, nearly feral in her pursuit of the limelight.

Moore carries The Substance fully on her shoulders, her performance supplying the film with its only source of humanity. This is a film tailor-made for Moore’s specific talents and history. Like Elisabeth, Moore began her career in the ’80s with films like St. Elmo’s Fire and About Last Night… and a stint on the long-running soap opera General Hospital. A star turn in 1990’s Ghost catapulted Moore onto the A-List, where she remained until the late ’90s, when she was plagued by poor critical reception and box office numbers. Though she has continued to work, Moore has not starred in a major Hollywood film since 2003’s Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. Now, 20 years later, Moore is once again proving Hollywood underestimated and marginalized her—first for her beauty and then for her age.

Moore’s presence makes it difficult to fully dismiss The Substance. Yet as the film spins its wheels, one can’t help but wonder what the point of it all is beyond telling us what we already know. The most compelling aspect of The Substance is the assertion that both Elisabeth and Sue are the same person and that any issue one has with the other is an internal one. But because the film doesn’t attempt to make it seem as if Sue and Elisabeth have anything in common, the whole ordeal feels dull and impersonal. What does Sue tell us about the person Elisabeth was when she got famous in the first place? What is it about Elisabeth that allowed her to stay relevant for so long? Forced to inject Moore’s real-life history into the film, we are left with a story that only survives on its stunt casting. Moore is the only element in this film of any substance at all.