CANNES – For a moment, we thought Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance” had overstayed its welcome. But, no, the “Revenge” director was just taking a breath before unleashing a wild and operatic ending for her Cannes Film Festival debut. A bold dissection on aging and self-hatred Fargeat’s latest work is an utter visual marvel and features superb performances from its lead actresses; Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley. And you may never think of Danzel’s dance anthem “Pump it Up” the same way again.
Seemingly set in Los Angeles, but shot in Fargeat’s native France (not that we’re complaining), “The Substance” begins with an overhead shot on what we’ll assume is meant to be Hollywood Blvd and a star celebrating the career of Elisabeth Sparkle (Moore) being installed on the sidewalk. The shot then remains fixed on the star over the days and weeks that follow. It rains, it snows, people spill their food on it, and teenagers mock Sparkle’s career. As more time passes, a few noticeable cracks appear. It gets rough not just around the edges, but throughout. All in all an obvious metaphor for Sparkle’s current standing in the industry. Oh, dear.
An Oscar winner long ago, Sparkle now hosts a morning exercise program that harkens back to Jane Fonda‘s workout tapes. She looks fantastic, but when she has to use the men’s room, she overhears her network TV executive, Harvey (a delightfully cartoonish Denis Quaid) rail on the phone about her age and terrible ratings for the show. They are going to replace her with someone younger, she just doesn’t know it yet. Cut to a lunch where Harvey grotesquely inhales a plate of shrimp all while casually letting her know her program is coming to an end. If things couldn’t get worse, she notices workers tearing down a billboard advertisement featuring her while driving home. You can almost predict that her car is going to get hit (it’s a cliche at this point), but Fargeat and her production team still make it an intense visceral experience.
At the hospital, the attending physician tells Elisabeth she doesn’t have a scratch and is free to go. When the doctor leaves the room, however, the young male nurse says the exam isn’t over. He meticulously examines her spine and says she’d be a perfect candidate, but a candidate for what? When she leaves the building she finds a USB flash drive in her coat pocket wrapped around a piece of paper that says “It Changed My Life.” Returning home she throws the drive onto her TV and a very short promotional video appears. It promises “A new, younger, more beautiful, more perfect, you. And there’s only one rule: You share time. One week for you. One week for the new you. Seven days each.” And most importantly, “Respect the balance.” The presentation is slick, almost sterile, and somehow not foreboding.
After initially throwing it away, Elisabeth has a fleeting moment of desperation when she sees an ad in the newspaper looking for the “next Elisabeth Sparkle.” She calls the number and begins the process. And what a process it is. Meticulously designed by Fargeat and her production team as the sleekest, easy-to-use at-home testing kit (imagine the potion from “Death Becomes Her” packaged for an Instagram ad). There are a few key components, the most important being the “food packets” and the “daily stabilizers.” When Elisabeth takes a shot of the “initializer” her world begins to spin. Within minutes she collapses on the floor. And, suddenly, something begins to form under the skin of her back eventually tearing it completely as it arrives into the world. The new being is, as promised, a “new, younger, more beautiful, more perfect you” who will eventually christen herself Sue (Qualley). Elisabeth, meanwhile, lies unconscious on the bathroom floor. Or is her conscious or subconscious within Sue? Where does Elisabeth end and Sue begin?
After promising an “easy” process, the substance turns out to be anything but. Sue soon realizes she needs to draw out spinal fluid from Elisabeth as “stabilizers” to stay alive. The packaging allows for one per day for seven days, because after the seventh day, the pair switch back, right? Those are the instructions. Each body needs to regenerate and she better stick to them.
When Sue auditions for Elisabeth’s replacement program, the network goes nuts. Harvey is so enraptured by her presence that he even agrees to work around her excuse to disappear every other week (that old mom is sick excuse works every time). And her new show? “Pump it Up”? It’s a hot, sexy, sister to the iconic Eric Prydz music video for “Call on Me” that easily transfixes any casual viewer flipping through their television channels. When Elisabeth returns after her first week under she’s visibly shaken to see not only the changes Sue has made to her home, but the gigantic billboard promoting “Pump it Up” outside her window. This is not what she thought she was getting into.
As the weeks pass, Sue becomes more desperate to live her life and avoid the regenerative switch. When she decides to take an extra day of stabilizers, the consequences for Elisabeth are dire. She awakens to find her pointer finger completely disfigured, almost warped into an old witch’s hand. Furious, Elisabeth calls The Substance. They inform her they can end the switch, but the process so far is irreversible. What’s done is done. Despite her own life seemingly falling to pieces, Elisabeth sees her previous glory in Sue’s newfound success. She can’t crush that dream. Not yet anyway.
As “The Substance” unfolds it’s utterly impossible not to become engrossed in Fargeat’s creative vision. This is a fully realized world with its own set of rules that feels contemporary, yet not. No one texts. People read newspapers. There isn’t a computer to be found. Traditional TV is king and echos of the ’80s and ’90s dominate the creative aesthetic. What year is it exactly? Who knows! And the fact the film was so obviously shot in France for Hollywood only adds to the surreal nature of the endeavor. As does production designer Stanislas Reydellet‘s distinctly designed sets (and gorgeous hallways, Fargeat loves some hallways). Beyond the view from Elisabeth’s high-rise apartment, nothing really looks like America though in this movie. Sure, even the bit actors all sound American, but this is a warped world, it’s all an artifice. Just like Hollywood and, perhaps, an allegory for society as a whole (obvious, but true).
Over her career, Fargeat has spoken of how David Cronenberg (who also has a film at Cannes this year) and David Lynch, among others, have influenced her work, but with “The Substance” she arrives fully realized as a singular auteur. There will be some debate over whether Elisabeth’s desire to stay youthful and current is a manifestation of her own self-hatred or Fargeat’s succumbing to view the world through a misogynistic lens (good luck with that argument). The latter argument is silly, though. These prejudices toward women and aging are not new. They have permeated through civilization for centuries. And Fargeat has just fashioned a means to ask the audience how far they would go to stay relevant. To remain in the spotlight.
Without question, the movie reaches a point where the audience’s patience may begin to wane. But, oh, don’t you worry. Fargeat knows what she’s doing. And just when you think she has made her final argument, she triumphantly throws Sue and Elisabeth into the fire in what unfolds as a spectacularly shocking and unexpected ending. A conclusion that is also a massive middle finger to men and the establishment at large. But be warned, it’s also horrific and quite bloody. It’s also so very, very smart and it will leave you buzzing. [A-/B+]
Mubi has acquired North American rights to “The Substance” and should release it sometime in 2024.
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