Tremendous potential is fumbled as too many disparate flavors mix poorly. Disappointing.

La Maison du Caviar - 21 Rue Quentin Bauchart, Paris 8, Paris, France

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There's been a slight misuse of the Substance. A few extra hours were accidentally added... causing an alteration. So I'm just looking to revert it.

Demi Moore at an event for The Substance (2024)

Demi Moore and Rob Lowe at an event for The Substance (2024)

Demi Moore

Margaret Qualley

Dennis Quaid

Coralie Fargeat

A fading celebrity takes a black-market drug: a cell-replicating substance that helps her create a younger, better version of herself.

The Substance

I&apos;ve been looking forward to this from the moment it was first announced to premiere at Cannes. The premise caught my eye, I love some good body horror, and I like Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley. That filmmaker Coralie Fargeat won Best Screenplay at Cannes further stoked my interest, and I was eager to see &apos;The substance&apos; as soon as it was released - only the third film I&apos;ve made a point to see in theaters in 2024, and only the eleventh total since the COVID-19 pandemic began. I had very high expectations. And I&apos;ve been very disappointed. I question the praise and accolades this has been awarded, and I don&apos;t think it&apos;s nearly worth going out of one&apos;s way to see.

All the way through to the end there are strokes of brilliance throughout the film in various ways. It begins so very promisingly, with small touches of cringe-worthy body horror prepping us for more gnarly visions to come. There&apos;s a strong undercurrent of psychological horror on hand, too, as the connection between Elisabeth and Sue runs deeper than a one-line synopsis suggests, and the story is primed to explore the splintering of not just bodies, but minds. More readily evident are the themes on hand, and rest assured that this dives headfirst into the difficulties of aging in modern society, specifically as they apply to women, and even more specifically to women in entertainment: the way that anyone older than thirty suddenly becomes invisible; the way that producers, casting directors, and talent agencies are always looking for the hot young thing; the desperation to feel and remain relevant, outright vanity, and reckless and/or selfish impulses; how young stars are molded and affected by all these factors, potentially resulting in a proverbial monster far removed from the person they were before. And from the outset &apos;The substance&apos; latches onto a tendency for extreme detail that dovetails neatly into all such big ideas and juicy potential: camera and microphone alike accentuate mundane minutiae that are jarring and off-putting when heavily spotlighted; the ordinary human body, and indeed undeniable beauty, has never been more repulsive; Dennis Quaid is so disgusting in this instance, owing to both audiovisual presentation and characterization, that he&apos;s almost as revolting as the figure he portrays in another current release, the biopic &apos;Reagan.&apos; And that&apos;s saying a lot.

From the start this also had a couple issues that gnawed at me, including music that at the outset was unnecessary and which began at an 11, trying to artificially assert ambience before anything had happened. More substantively, details in the picture as we see it - or rather, a lack of rounding details - raise a skeptical eyebrow as Elisabeth is selected out of the blue; questions nothing about the offer that has been extended to her at no charge, nor the set-up that the mysterious, wholly unexplained organization has devised; and has been given no actual instructions or meaningful information about &quot;the substance,&quot; but charges ahead while understanding perfectly what the procedure is. Now, I&apos;ve seen it remarked that modern audiences are too obsessed with plot, looking for details (present or absent) that poke holes in one&apos;s immersion, instead of just enjoying the show. I&apos;ve never understood so clearly what that remark is referring to, and all the same my viewing experience was tripped up by these details, and also by the fact that in no time at all our protagonist is so careless as to disregard the scant few instructions she was given. As a further demerit, an early sequence probably needed a disclaimer, for I worry about viewers with photosensitivity. And still these matters, and some others of a smaller and less overt nature, are nothing compared the most significant problems plaguing the feature.

I said that &apos;The substance&apos; begins promisingly, and I truly mean it. Would that Fargeat had stayed the course. There comes a discrete point somewhere around the halfway mark where the measured, nuanced body horror and psychological horror are set aside, and the tone shifts significantly. The fact is that this tries to be about half a dozen different movies, and while some of the flavors ably mix, others do not. Body horror and psychological horror do not mix with the most wildly over the top acting and direction that takes over, suddenly and then periodically. The flick almost becomes horror-comedy as it irregularly slips into bare-faced satire that leaves behind the more deliberate sensibilities with which Fargeat first approached the material. At times this is so simple-minded in its ordinary horror-thriller ideations that it becomes dull; there comes a time when the growing darkness of the more subtle thoughts is just discarded outright, and we&apos;re now watching a pure monster flick. Before all is said and done, this also embraces a level of blood, gore, literal splatter, and outrageous visuals that one is reminded of Brian Yuzna and 1989&apos;s &apos;Society,&apos; if not also Stuart Gordon with his own irreverent genre frolics. Through to the end there are strokes of brilliance in all these capacities, and even the body horror and psychological horror continue to rise and recede. But the amalgamation as a whole doesn&apos;t work, and the doing is instead so messy and aggravating that I came close to just walking out. I&apos;ve never done that before, and I still haven&apos;t, but this was almost the first time.

In all other regards this is tremendously well made. The stunts and practical effects are stupendous, including instances of violence, blood and gore, and certainly special makeup and creature effects. Where computer-generated imagery is sparingly employed, that judicious utilization blends seamlessly into the filmed footage. The production design and art direction are impeccable, and the costume design, hair, and makeup (of all stripes) are flawless. I love Raffertie&apos;s music in and of itself, themes that resonate powerfully as they complement the sordid tale, and I take issue only with how it is employed at times. Moore and Qualley give fantastic performances of admirable nuance, range, poise, and physicality, ably bringing to bear all the turmoil of Elisabeth and Sue; Quaid is solid in his supporting part. The sound design is terribly robust in the best and worst of ways, Benjamin Kracun&apos;s cinematography is sharp, and the editing is keen. The very concept is outstanding, and the procedure that Elisabeth and Sue must maintain is kind of ingenious. Unfortunately, none of this matters so much when the storytelling swerves so inelegantly between airs that do mesh, that don&apos;t mesh, or which downright compete for dominance. At its best I can understand why Fargeat was honored with &quot;Best Screenplay&quot;; I can also understand why she won &quot;Best Screenplay&quot; and not &quot;Best Film&quot; or &quot;Best Direction.&quot; At its worst, I think even that honor was undeserved.

I entered with very high expectations, and I&apos;ve been very disappointed. &apos;The substance&apos; could have been many things, but it couldn&apos;t be all of them. The best notions that it had going for it, the measured, mounting body horror and psychological horror, unquestionably represent the best possibilities for the concept, but the others might have been just as swell all on their own. All together, it falls apart, and it does so as a discernible juncture. I wondered many weeks ago how this genre piece could be a whopping two hours and twenty minutes long, and the regrettable answer is that it tries to do and be too many things. With all this having been said, while it&apos;s possible I&apos;m being too kind, I&apos;m not inclined to say that the title is altogether bad. I don&apos;t dislike it. But then, any broad words of positivity, extended to the entirety instead of to particular elements, also seem several steps too far. I suppose I&apos;m glad for those who get more out of &apos;The substance&apos; than I did, but I find it difficult to offer an especial recommendation.

Elisabeth Sparkle is a former A-lister past her prime who is suddenly fired from her fitness TV show.

She is then drawn to the opportunity presented by a mysterious new drug: THE SUBSTANCE. All it takes is one injection and she is reborn -- temporarily -- as the gorgeous, twentysomething Sue. 

The only rule? Time needs to be split: exactly one week in one body, then one week in the other. No exceptions. A perfect balance. What could go wrong?

Watch the Trailer

https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BOTAyNTlhODUtZWI4MS00MTE0LWJlYzktNmViODlkZTg0NDUwXkEyXkFqcGdeQWFybm8@._V1_.jpg

I've been looking forward to this from the moment it was first announced to premiere at Cannes. The premise caught my eye, I love some good body horror, and I like Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley. That filmmaker Coralie Fargeat won Best Screenplay at Cannes further stoked my interest, and I was eager to see 'The substance' as soon as it was released - only the third film I've made a point to see in theaters in 2024, and only the eleventh total since the COVID-19 pandemic began. I had very high expectations. And I've been very disappointed. I question the praise and accolades this has been awarded, and I don't think it's nearly worth going out of one's way to see.

All the way through to the end there are strokes of brilliance throughout the film in various ways. It begins so very promisingly, with small touches of cringe-worthy body horror prepping us for more gnarly visions to come. There's a strong undercurrent of psychological horror on hand, too, as the connection between Elisabeth and Sue runs deeper than a one-line synopsis suggests, and the story is primed to explore the splintering of not just bodies, but minds. More readily evident are the themes on hand, and rest assured that this dives headfirst into the difficulties of aging in modern society, specifically as they apply to women, and even more specifically to women in entertainment: the way that anyone older than thirty suddenly becomes invisible; the way that producers, casting directors, and talent agencies are always looking for the hot young thing; the desperation to feel and remain relevant, outright vanity, and reckless and/or selfish impulses; how young stars are molded and affected by all these factors, potentially resulting in a proverbial monster far removed from the person they were before. And from the outset 'The substance' latches onto a tendency for extreme detail that dovetails neatly into all such big ideas and juicy potential: camera and microphone alike accentuate mundane minutiae that are jarring and off-putting when heavily spotlighted; the ordinary human body, and indeed undeniable beauty, has never been more repulsive; Dennis Quaid is so disgusting in this instance, owing to both audiovisual presentation and characterization, that he's almost as revolting as the figure he portrays in another current release, the biopic 'Reagan.' And that's saying a lot.

From the start this also had a couple issues that gnawed at me, including music that at the outset was unnecessary and which began at an 11, trying to artificially assert ambience before anything had happened. More substantively, details in the picture as we see it - or rather, a lack of rounding details - raise a skeptical eyebrow as Elisabeth is selected out of the blue; questions nothing about the offer that has been extended to her at no charge, nor the set-up that the mysterious, wholly unexplained organization has devised; and has been given no actual instructions or meaningful information about "the substance," but charges ahead while understanding perfectly what the procedure is. Now, I've seen it remarked that modern audiences are too obsessed with plot, looking for details (present or absent) that poke holes in one's immersion, instead of just enjoying the show. I've never understood so clearly what that remark is referring to, and all the same my viewing experience was tripped up by these details, and also by the fact that in no time at all our protagonist is so careless as to disregard the scant few instructions she was given. As a further demerit, an early sequence probably needed a disclaimer, for I worry about viewers with photosensitivity. And still these matters, and some others of a smaller and less overt nature, are nothing compared the most significant problems plaguing the feature.

I said that 'The substance' begins promisingly, and I truly mean it. Would that Fargeat had stayed the course. There comes a discrete point somewhere around the halfway mark where the measured, nuanced body horror and psychological horror are set aside, and the tone shifts significantly. The fact is that this tries to be about half a dozen different movies, and while some of the flavors ably mix, others do not. Body horror and psychological horror do not mix with the most wildly over the top acting and direction that takes over, suddenly and then periodically. The flick almost becomes horror-comedy as it irregularly slips into bare-faced satire that leaves behind the more deliberate sensibilities with which Fargeat first approached the material. At times this is so simple-minded in its ordinary horror-thriller ideations that it becomes dull; there comes a time when the growing darkness of the more subtle thoughts is just discarded outright, and we're now watching a pure monster flick. Before all is said and done, this also embraces a level of blood, gore, literal splatter, and outrageous visuals that one is reminded of Brian Yuzna and 1989's 'Society,' if not also Stuart Gordon with his own irreverent genre frolics. Through to the end there are strokes of brilliance in all these capacities, and even the body horror and psychological horror continue to rise and recede. But the amalgamation as a whole doesn't work, and the doing is instead so messy and aggravating that I came close to just walking out. I've never done that before, and I still haven't, but this was almost the first time.

In all other regards this is tremendously well made. The stunts and practical effects are stupendous, including instances of violence, blood and gore, and certainly special makeup and creature effects. Where computer-generated imagery is sparingly employed, that judicious utilization blends seamlessly into the filmed footage. The production design and art direction are impeccable, and the costume design, hair, and makeup (of all stripes) are flawless. I love Raffertie's music in and of itself, themes that resonate powerfully as they complement the sordid tale, and I take issue only with how it is employed at times. Moore and Qualley give fantastic performances of admirable nuance, range, poise, and physicality, ably bringing to bear all the turmoil of Elisabeth and Sue; Quaid is solid in his supporting part. The sound design is terribly robust in the best and worst of ways, Benjamin Kracun's cinematography is sharp, and the editing is keen. The very concept is outstanding, and the procedure that Elisabeth and Sue must maintain is kind of ingenious. Unfortunately, none of this matters so much when the storytelling swerves so inelegantly between airs that do mesh, that don't mesh, or which downright compete for dominance. At its best I can understand why Fargeat was honored with "Best Screenplay"; I can also understand why she won "Best Screenplay" and not "Best Film" or "Best Direction." At its worst, I think even that honor was undeserved.

I entered with very high expectations, and I've been very disappointed. 'The substance' could have been many things, but it couldn't be all of them. The best notions that it had going for it, the measured, mounting body horror and psychological horror, unquestionably represent the best possibilities for the concept, but the others might have been just as swell all on their own. All together, it falls apart, and it does so as a discernible juncture. I wondered many weeks ago how this genre piece could be a whopping two hours and twenty minutes long, and the regrettable answer is that it tries to do and be too many things. With all this having been said, while it's possible I'm being too kind, I'm not inclined to say that the title is altogether bad. I don't dislike it. But then, any broad words of positivity, extended to the entirety instead of to particular elements, also seem several steps too far. I suppose I'm glad for those who get more out of 'The substance' than I did, but I find it difficult to offer an especial recommendation.

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