WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD
As soon as I saw the trailer for Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, I knew it was going to be one of my favorite movies of the year. Just the simple question, “Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself?” hooked me instantly. Yes, of course I have. Hasn’t everyone? Every woman I know, at least.
In The Substance, director Coralie Fargeat dives into a darkly surreal exploration of beauty, aging, and self-presentation through Elisabeth Sparkle, a faded Hollywood aerobics star determined to reclaim her relevance. Played with intense vulnerability and bravado by Demi Moore, Elisabeth becomes the ultimate victim of beauty standards—one that is consumed both physically and mentally by her insecurities. Margaret Qualley’s role as Elisabeth’s “Other Self,” Sue, also brings about questions surrounding bodily autonomy and succumbing to the demands of the spotlight, embodying the horror and allure of eternal youth in a terrifyingly relatable manner.
Once Elisabeth decides to actually go through with taking the Substance, she is split into two battling entities— “The Matrix” and “The Other Self”—in a scene that some may consider to be one of the most grotesque body horror moments in cinematic history, where Elisabeth essentially births a full-grown Sue through a humongous exit wound on her spine. One of my favorite moments in this sequence was the fun inclusion of Elisabeth and Sue’s pupils fighting to be centered in Elisabeth’s eye socket. Truly unforgettable in the worst and best ways.
The horror of Elisabeth’s deep insecurity turns into a brutal, bodily climax when Sue, looking to create “a better version of herself,” decides to take the Substance, turning her into “Monstro Elisasue,” a disfigured beast that melds both Elisabeth and Sue’s body into a large fleshy creature (the perfect Halloween costume for campy girls). This explosive final sequence, where the audience at Sue’s New Years Eve Show is confronted by Monstro Elisasue, captures not only the physical agony of being trapped by your appearance, but also the emotional destruction that beauty culture inflicts on women at large.
Throughout The Substance, the audience is taken down the path of Elisabeth’s gradual, grotesque physical decline, caused by Sue’s continual abuse of Elisabeth’s spinal stabilizer fluid, which Sue requires to stay alive. This element adds an interesting portrayal of beauty as a parasitic force that is both chilling and watch-through-your-fingers disgusting. Sue’s rise to fame as the “better, younger” version of her old self mirrors how society continuously disposes of and disregards women in the public eye once their youth fades. Elisabeth’s initial desperation for relevance—and the cruel dismissal of her long-standing career by sleazy producer Harvey played by Dennis Quaid—speaks to a shared cultural nightmare: the aging woman’s struggle for visibility and importance.
Elisabeth’s heartbreaking jealousy of Sue, alongside Sue’s own disdain for the “flawed” original, builds a toxic mother-daughter bond that devolves into mutual hatred. One of the most memorable and darkly comedic moments in The Substance occurs when Elisabeth and Sue, during their respective allotted seven days in their body, repeatedly call the Substance Hotline to vent about one another. Each time, their frustrations build as they recount grievances—Elisabeth’s irritation with Sue’s reckless use of her spinal fluid, causing her to rapidly age, and Sue’s disdain for Elisabeth’s self-destructive habits and repulsive eating behaviors. The Hotline operator, completely unphased, always reminds them of the same, chilling mantra:
“The one and only thing not to forget. You are one. You can’t escape from yourself.”
This simple line carries a profound irony that stuck with me throughout the rest of the film. The operator’s words lay bare the futility of Elisabeth and Sue’s efforts to forge distinct identities, because after all, they’re the same person. Despite one being the “better version” of the other, they are ultimately equal to each other. Yes, Sue may have the youthful beauty and vibrancy that Elisabeth dreams of, but Elisabeth has the power to take away Sue’s existence completely. Regardless of physical appearance, they are bound by the relentless, soul-crushing, self-destructive pursuit of perfection that Elisabeth harbored at the start of the story.
Personally, this reminded me, quite literally, of the importance of being kind to yourself. The film’s horror lies not just in Elisabeth’s physical degradation, but in Sue’s relentless disregard for Elisabeth’s well-being. By the end of the film, it’s clear that if Elisabeth had approached herself with compassion instead of constant critique, she might have found fulfillment without the Substance’s ruinous allure. Ultimately, this film powerfully puts forth the message that real beauty (and real strength) comes from self-acceptance, not from imposing impossible expectations onto oneself. Through Elisabeth’s tragic story, I was reminded of an uncomfortable truth that lingered long after the credits rolled: in a world that demands perfection of women, the true horror lies not in aging, but in losing one’s identity while trying to be something that you aren’t.