Film review: “The Substance” is brilliantly disgusting and disturbed

For the first two hours, The Substance is a well-made, entertaining film. Writer and director Coralie Fargeat treats audiences to a hefty dose of biting social commentary on ageism and sexism in Hollywood, with a spoonful of sugary and glittery body horror.

But what makes the film unforgettable is its wonderfully crazy, blood-soaked and inevitably polarizing third act.

What begins as a frightening but still somewhat palatable science fiction film descends ever deeper into absurdity and violence and ultimately culminates – in the truest sense of the word – into a full-blown monster movie. The audience decides who the monster is.

Fargeat – who won best screenplay at this year’s Cannes Film Festival – has been vocal about her reverence for The Fly director David Cronenberg, and fans of the godfather of body horror will recognize his unmistakable influence. But The Substance is also entirely unique, benefiting from Fargeat’s perspective, which the French filmmaker says includes a full examination of her own relationship with her body and societal scrutiny.

“The Substance” tells the story of Elisabeth Sparkle, a famous aerobics instructor with a television show, played by a powerfully vulnerable Demi Moore. Sparkle is fired on her 50th birthday by an unscrupulous manager – a perfectly cast Dennis Quaid, who is sleazy and gross.

Feeling rejected by a city she once loved and despairing over her lost celebrity status, Sparkle learns from an attractive young nurse about a drug on the black market that promises to create a “younger, more beautiful, more perfect” version of the user. Although she initially throws the phone number in the trash, she soon fishes it out in a desperate panic and places an order.

The only rule to follow is that Sparkle and her better self (Margaret Qualley) must switch places every seven days. For one week at a time, she’s forced to live as her 50-year-old self again. But the lure of youth and a TV-ready butt is too strong to resist. What bad could happen if she squeezes in an extra day or two?

Benjamin Kracun’s cinematography, particularly his low angle shots and close-ups reminiscent of the films of David Lynch—another filmmaker who Fargeat says influenced her work as a director—expertly captures the pervasive claustrophobia and fear that prevails even when Sparkle is in the body of her better self.

Fargeat’s captivating construction of a kind of timeless world – between fashion, architecture, aerobics and cutting-edge cell-reproducing drugs – is also reminiscent of Lynch.

Given that body horror is all the rage at festivals—Julia Ducournau’s Titane and Cronenberg’s Crimes of the Future also premiered at Cannes in recent years—it’s easy to dismiss this film as exploiting the zeitgeist.

But “The Substance” refuses to get lost in this chaos.

Perhaps most impressive is the fact that the film never feels like it’s dragging throughout its 140 minutes. Fargeat ups the ante until the film’s final second, with a breathtakingly insane final scene that’s still somehow poignant.

If there is one criticism of the film, it is the somewhat crude satire and caricature, with most of the male characters being not exactly subtle misogynists. But it is precisely this exaggeration that makes the film so entertaining.

“The Substance,” a Mubi release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for strong bloody violence, violence, explicit nudity and language. Running time: 140 minutes. Three and a half out of four stars.