The Substance is grotesque, beautiful, complicated — and worth watching for its shocking finale alone

The Substance feels less like a sharp critique and more like a solemn embodiment of the very flaws it aims to expose. Despite its intention to tackle Hollywood’s toxic beauty standards, it feels like everyone involved is complicit in the very ideals they claim to challenge. Directed by Coralie Fargeat, the film ventures into body horror, grappling with familiar themes like ageing, identity and the unrelenting pressures of Hollywood. But even with its visceral approach, the film ultimately stumbles in its execution and falls short of the depth it aims to achieve. Yet it’s still worth watching if not only for that absurd, over-the-top gory ending.

Starring Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley and Dennis Quaid, The Substance first made waves at Cannes, where it won Best Screenplay. The premise revolves around Elisabeth Sparkle (Moore), a former fitness celebrity whose once-popular Sparkle Your Life aerobics show has gone downhill. After being dropped by her sleazy boss Harvey (Quaid), Elisabeth’s desperation drives her to seek out a black-market medical procedure. The result? She gives birth to Sue (Qualley), a younger, fitter version of herself, leading to a terrifying internal battle for control over beauty, relevance and, ultimately, identity.

The film is divided into three chapters: Chapter 1: ELISABETH, Chapter 2: SUE, and the climactic Chapter 3: MONSTRO ELISASUE. The first two chapters, unfortunately, drag. Repetitive, uninspired and lacking the bite that the third act brings, they feel like filler. It’s only in the final chapter, when the grotesque body horror comes into full swing, that The Substance finally starts to deliver. But by then, the film’s sluggish pacing has nearly suffocated its momentum, turning it more into a shock shlock fest than an earned, heart-felt conclusion.

Elisabeth’s story is familiar: a woman past her “prime” in Hollywood terms, fighting to stay relevant in an industry that disposes of women the moment they show signs of ageing. But rather than add new layers to this well-worn narrative, The Substance largely regurgitates themes tackled in other films like Sunset Boulevard, All About Eve and Black Swan. The critique is obvious, but the film’s execution lacks the novelty required to stand out.

Fargeat’s direction, while visually arresting, can’t seem to escape the very traps she’s supposedly critiquing. The camera lingers obsessively over Sue’s body, much like it did with Matilda Lutz in Fargeat’s Revenge. There are sequences of the Sparkle Your Life aerobics show that could have been shot to intentionally lean on the male gaze — as in the genius music video for Eric Prydz’ 2004 song “Call on Me,” directed by Huse Monfaradi, which satirized the male gaze in a way that was absurd and funny, instead of just feeling wrong. This choice might have been intended to make viewers complicit in the male gaze, but for me it backfires, coming across as more exploitative and meandering than subversive and satirical. For a film that wants to critique the industry’s obsession with youth and beauty, it feels hypocritical in how much it mirrors that same obsession.

Moore’s casting is a stroke of genius, though. Still astonishing, her real-life status as a once-reigning Hollywood icon, now navigating an industry notorious for ageism, adds a layer of melancholy and self-awareness to Elisabeth’s plight. Her performance, especially in moments of vulnerability, like when she desperately tries to recapture her youthful allure before a date, adds depth to an otherwise shallow narrative. Qualley, on the other hand, delivers a chillingly detached performance as Sue, the embodiment of cold perfection. She’s a mirror of the superficial ideal that society idolizes: youth without substance, beauty without soul. And this film feels to me more like the former.

The body horror in The Substance is undeniably effective, especially in its more grotesque absurdist moments. Fargeat excels at creating discomfort, using sharp visuals and disorienting sound design to underscore Elisabeth’s bodily deterioration. Bones crack, fluids squelch and the soundscape makes sure you feel every bit of the body’s rebellion against time. But this physical horror doesn’t quite translate into emotional depth. For all its stylistic flair (which, to me, comes off as a bit forced), the film’s characters remain underdeveloped. Elisabeth and Sue never evolve beyond their roles as symbols in a tired allegory about beauty and decay, and the world around them feels generic and empty.

By the time the film reaches its chaotic, blood-soaked, gore-filled third act, it’s hard to feel invested. While the final chapter finally brings some much-needed energy to the film, with shocking twists and “Rick & Morty Cronenbergian” body horror gore, it also feels unearned, like a shocking over-the-top finale thrown in to compensate for the lethargy that came before. But I can’t deny that it was fun. 

Ultimately, The Substance is a bold, gruesome critique of society’s obsession with youth and beauty, but it stumbles over its own message. The film is unintentionally all style with not enough substance, leaving you more deflated than disturbed by the end. It has its fun moments — especially in that incredible, monstrous, absurd final act — but it never quite lives up to the potential of its premise as a whole.

The Substance opens in Montreal theatres on Friday, Sept. 20.

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