I’m trapped in a Vanity Fair fever dream. One moment, it’s a close-up, then suddenly a wide shot. Just as I catch my breath, it zooms back in like I’m the lead in some chaotic reality show. The substance seeps into my brain like a slow IV drip, twisting my thoughts. Do I go deeper into vanity, get anxious about how I look, or start tearing myself apart, sabotaging everything? Like every high, it teases me to dream bigger than I ever thought possible—but at what cost?
It’s that desperate gasp for air, and just as the substance hits, time bends. I’m fading into some twisted fever dream starring Demi Moore in her “career-defining performance”. From an artistic standpoint, The Substance is just delicious. It’s layered and rich, making you want to dive deeper into its complexities. It’s unsettling, but you can’t look away.
In a world where Hollywood often reduces women to mere objects, The Substance flips the script. It confronts the haunting realities of self-hatred, serving as a powerful reminder that the scariest monster of all often lurks within us. It all begins with Elisabeth, Demi Moore’s character, who nudges everyone to take care of themselves and embrace self-love. We often say this to our loved ones, hoping they’ll check in and prioritize their well-being. But here’s the irony: how does that translate into our own lives? What’s the real cost of this idea of self-care? It’s a messy exploration of the gap between what we want for others and what we struggle to give ourselves.
Then comes the parade of entitled men, ready to voice their opinions on everyone’s bodies—especially women. It’s the usual double standard, where men of their ilk face little to no scrutiny compared to women. A standout moment in the film highlights how these men often resort to rage, yelling, and acting like they own everything. They can’t even remember names, yet they behave as if the world revolves around them. The subtle hint of patriarchy is palpable, reminding us that in their eyes, everything is theirs for the taking. And so, the pressure is on women to conform, just like Elisabeth, who battles her issues while desperately trying to reclaim her peak. She’s always craved attention, but now that she’s older, things have shifted dramatically. It’s a harsh reality: You might think starving yourself and fasting is the answer, but the reality is that weight often returns—sometimes even heavier—and with it comes serious health issues. It may seem worth it at first, but it’s a trap, a harsh reminder that not everything that glimmers is worth the price you pay.
Demi Moore’s portrayal of Elisabeth is haunting to the core, especially in that one scene where she’s supposed to meet someone but keeps rushing back to the bathroom like there’s a magnetic pull. She’s constantly fixing herself, and while the film is graphic, the most terrifying moment is when she’s sitting alone, grappling with self-loathing. She truly hated herself. Seeing her deprive herself of what could be a great time because she feels unworthy is devastating—you can’t help but feel for her. Demi’s performance cuts deep, it’s an extraordinary display that captures a moment of despair.
This movie has a clear vision for women to own and embrace their bodies, beauty, and age, rejecting the pressure society places on them. Moore’s character serves as a powerful reminder that when you stray from your authentic self, you lose radiance. Her performance screams intensity, making you feel the depths of self-loathing. The commitment she brings to the self-sabotaging madness of Elisabeth shows she fully embraces what the substance offers, and you’ll find yourself into it.
Dennis Quaid plays an irksome, entitled white man, with a self-serving character that unravels into something terrifyingly sexist. His descent into madness is unsettling. Meanwhile, Margaret Qualley shines as Sue, a fearless and charming presence who steals every scene she’s in. You can’t take your eyes off her because she’s an absolute sensation on screen.
The visuals in this film, taking into play with body-horror elements, serve up a bold, audacious commentary on vanity. The final act feels like a never-ending marathon, forcing you to confront the sheer agony of living for others’ perceptions. It’s a torturous ride that never seems to let up. As the climax unfolds, the film drives home the uncomfortable truth: men are often the architects of these societal messes, imposing unattainable standards on women.
When they shout about Elisabeth’s “unusual” transformation, it’s a chilling reminder of how quickly men resort to violence, clamoring for her silence. This film goes beyond traditional body horror since it’s a sharp, sardonic critique of a society steeped in patriarchal absurdities. Through Demi’s character wrestling with The Substance, we witness not just a physical metamorphosis, but a searing exploration of identity and self-worth. It challenges you to peel back the layers of what we define as beauty, leaving you questioning everything from your reflection to the very ideals we’re told to aspire to. In the end, it’s both a gut punch and a wake-up call wrapped in skin-crawling horror.
You can watch “The Substance”, a satisfyingly body-horror masterpiece that promises a mind-blowing experience. Now showing in Cinemas nationwide starring Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley and Dennis Quaid, directed by Coralie Fargeat.
