by Hudson Moura
The Substance tells the story of Elizabeth Sparkle, a former TV star who rose to fame through her aerobics videos, reminiscent of the iconic tapes made by Jane Fonda in the 1980s. What adds an intriguing layer to the casting is the lead performance by Demi Moore, another star from that era, though younger than Fonda herself. The plot takes a dark turn as Elizabeth opts for a mysterious service that promises to restore her youth. The twist, however, is that this rejuvenation only lasts one week every two weeks. During one week, she returns to her younger self, but for the following week, she reverts to her present, older self. The transformation is depicted through the lens of horror, featuring graphic and explicit scenes, particularly when it comes to the depiction of both versions of Elizabeth’s body.
Horror as a genre transcends mere escapism, incorporating violence that often feels more theatrical than realistic. In The Substance, the violence is not just a tool for shock value; it acts as a vehicle for transformation, adding an aesthetic dimension to the chaos. Viewers don’t simply seek out horror for distraction, but also for the way it imposes a sense of order within disorder. In a sense, this type of violence enables the audience to face difficult realities—such as aging, loss, and fear—by embedding them within a supernatural or monstrous narrative. It allows viewers to confront these deeper themes in a way that a direct, realistic drama might not.
The central fear in The Substance is not only the fear of aging but also the fear of mortality. By intertwining these anxieties with graphic horror, the film offers a cathartic release. Rather than shying away from these difficult questions, the film pushes viewers to explore them in a controlled, symbolic environment. This technique of using horror as a metaphor for existential dread is both effective and unsettling.
Visually, The Substance is a striking film. From the very first shots, the film’s meticulous direction and creative use of urban spaces stand out. The 1980s pop culture references saturate the mise-en-scène, with symbols like Hollywood stars embedded in the pavement, representing the illusion of success and glamour. While the script—winner of a Best Screenplay Award at Cannes—certainly drives the narrative, it’s the bold choices in camera work and direction that leave a lasting impression. The agile, fluid camera captures close-up shots that are often unsettling, amplifying the claustrophobic tension of the film.
In particular, the minimalist white bathroom setting becomes a central visual motif. Its stark, cold design evokes the carefully constructed sets of Stanley Kubrick, further enhancing the film’s unsettling atmosphere. These visual choices heighten the sensory experience for the audience, making the film feel both immersive and emotionally intense.
Set in the 1980s, the film uses provocative imagery—focusing particularly on the female body in aerobics costumes—to critique the cultural obsession with physical perfection. In a world where beauty is currency, The Substance explores how far people will go to maintain youth, even at the cost of their own identity.
What makes this film stand out is its distinctly female perspective. Directed by a woman and centered on female characters, the film offers a critical take on male figures, often depicting them as arrogant or lecherous. One memorable scene, for instance, shows a man dismissing blood on the floor as “Lady business,” a casual reference to menstruation. The film also channels the inner frustration and anger women feel towards aging, manifesting these emotions in a monstrous version of the protagonist herself. This monster—her younger, idealized self—represents the internalized pressure to remain forever young.
In terms of cinematic influences, The Substance wears them proudly. The musical score recalls Hitchcock’s Vertigo, heightening the film’s psychological tension. The stylistic nods to Kubrick are undeniable, with references to both The Shining and 2001: A Space Odyssey, adding layers of thematic and visual depth as well as cliché and superficiality which matches perfectly to the film’s thematic. Furthermore, the film’s moments of rage—particularly where the audience witnesses Elizabeth’s monstrous transformation—evoke the fury of Carrie by Brian De Palma. These intertextual references enrich the film’s commentary, particularly on the societal pressures faced by women to maintain an impossible standard of beauty.
The Substance is not just a horror film; it is a poignant social critique disguised as a thriller. It skillfully deconstructs the cultural fixation on youth and beauty while delivering a deeply unsettling narrative. Through its visceral imagery and thematic complexity, The Substance offers a powerful commentary on the intersection of horror, society, and the human condition.