Here’s something that caught my eye at recent film festivals—getting into the spirit of the current season, here’s some grotesque and macabre material that also happens to be a very blunt satire on our cultures of appearance and perfectionism. Coming to us from Cannes by director Coralie Faraget, here’s The Substance.
Though set in the US with an appropriate cast, it’s effectively a French film—shot in Paris with of course with a director of that nationality, and in many ways, it shows. For one, expect no subtlety here—things will come at you like a mallet to the face, with characters like a sleazy producer who, of course, is named Harvey, and is made to be as disgusting and slimy as can physically be. Whether for better or worse, it’s all cranked to the top as many a French production can be—and, of course, there’s other things, like the assumption that the top television show in LA would be an aerobics thing that basically amounts to softcore porn.
Demi Moore plays Elizabeth, a has-been actress hitting fifty, and thus is basically considered unmarketable by said greasy producers (ironically Demi herself is older in real life). With her shows being cancelled, she decides to bypass the usual Hollywood surgeries and facelifts upon learning of a secretly marketed injection that promises to revitalize her. Which it does—albeit with a few body-churning twists that, as you may be expecting, lead to things going out of control a bit.
I do appreciate that no holds are barred here—Coralie is clearly channelling David Cronenberg a bit, especially near the end, as well as a bit of Brian Yuzna (anyone who’s seen the cult film Society will be seeing some comparisons here!). Earlier in the film Elizabeth, shall we say, splits into her ‘new and improved’ younger alter ego Sue (Margaret Qualley), in a way that quickly establishes we’re going for some pretty dark surrealism here, and does discomfort ever so well. For most of it, Coralie certainly gets that in many ways, its the little, lingering things that can get even a seasoned horror viewer on edge—a tooth being ripped out is something way more relatable than an arm, for instance.
That all kind of goes at the window near the end, where we do have some pretty impressive prosthetics and practical effects, though by then what little restraint is gone in favor of literal splatter. But prior to that, there are all manner of moments that certainly got reactions from the audience I was with—and if nothing else, there is some decent commentary on the way people in our Instagram age will splinter off into their own perfected personas for screens and imagery, all the better to capture fickle superficial eyes.
The downside is that it’s a bit longer than it has to be, especially once that message is established, and there were parts I could see as being trimmed down a bit here and there. That’s not to say there wasn’t some demented enjoyment to be had, but perhaps it could’ve been just a bit stronger with things being a bit more compact. And, well, like I said, if you want something that’s not completely in your face, perhaps this wouldn’t be quite for you.
Then again, in this same age of airbrushed pictures and whatnot, perhaps being in your face is what’s needed. There’s certainly memorable moments to be had, making this one, while imperfect, one thing to take from this year in satire and horror so far…
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