MIFF 2024 Film Review - The Substance
Images courtesy of Common State.
If there was ever a flick to skip the popcorn on, it’s this one. Coralie Fargeat’s latest film, The Substance (2024), is a stomach-churning concoction of body horror and comedy that makes for an insanely monstrous watch.
Freshly 50, Elisabeth Sparkle’s (Demi Moore) sparkle is fizzling out; her skin is less smooth, her hair less voluminous and her limbs less limber. The true horror is yet to begin, but for her Hollywood manager, Harvey (Denis Quaid) – no, not that one, but gee what a coincidence… –, this is about as scary as it gets; after all, what is a woman without beauty and sex appeal!? When offered the chance to reclaim her youth via a mysterious substance called, you guessed it, THE SUBSTANCE, the choice is a no-brainer.
Things go very wrong, very fast, for poor Elizabeth Sparkle and her sheer spiral into pandemonium is utterly ludicrous. Striking a delicious balance between the comedic and the repulsive, each scene proves as morbidly riveting as the next. The smile plastered to my face across the 140 minutes must have cycled from one of amusement to shock, to horror, then back again, over a dozen times. By the third act, the film morphs into something monstrous, featuring on-the-nose callbacks to classics like Carrie (1976) and Nightmare on Elm Street (1984).
Fargeat’s script is notably sparse in dialogue. Remaining true to the classical conventions of the horror genre, much of the squirming is instead elicited with skilfully insidious camera work. Don’t get me wrong, the body horror is very much on show, but it is Fargeat’s application of fisheye lenses and extreme close-ups, paired with a delightfully oppressive soundtrack, that turns even the most benign scene into something grotesque. I fear I will never again eat shrimp without Denise Quaid’s face worming its way to the forefront of my mind; take from that what you will.
Like so many predecessors of its genre, the true horror of The Substance lies in the uncomfortable reality of its narrative. Apparent in its abhorrent rendering of ghastly wrinkles and bulbous knees, is the film’s overt criticism of agism and normative beauty standards – particularly those imposed upon women. One can’t help but feel a dreadful pang of recognition as they watch Elisabeth wrestle (literally) with the loss of her younger self (Margaret Qualley). After all, who hasn’t hunched over in the low light of the bathroom mirror, grimacing at a new wrinkle? The message is clear: youth is currency, and without it, you can say goodbye to respect and dignity. The absurdity of this sentiment is acknowledged with artfully extravagant prosthetics and comedic caricatures that err on the satirical. With this in mind, the groans and winces drawn from the audience by Elisabeth’s newly formed Varicose Veins take on a somewhat ironic quality…. Perhaps that sentiment is not so absurd after all.
In the age of cosmetic surgeries and miracle de-aging serums, The Substance is a timely release. This grossly entertaining and rightfully provocative body horror exhibits Fargeat’s distinct style and solidifies her as one to watch. Sure to be a classic, this is a must-see – even if it is from behind shaky fingers!
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The Substance screened as part of the Melbourne International Film Festival, running in cinemas and online August 8th-25th.
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