Shocking! Hollywood Star Denied More Time by ‘The Substance’ – Find Out Why!

Coralie Fargeat, a film director, seems to have an odd fascination with buttocks. Her Cannes-winning film, “The Substance,” centers around a faded Hollywood actress who has an unusual tolerance for self-inflicted torment. This movie is notable for having a surprisingly high number of buttocks shots, given its lengthy runtime of just over two and a half hours. Whether they’re squeezed into spandex or shown in the nude, every butt is eagerly captured by the camera’s lens, reminiscent of the desire a fast-food ad would have for showcasing its burger buns. The message is clear: in this body-horror movie, people are valued only as hunks of flesh. The fearless and fierce performances by Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, who are not shy about letting the camera dissect them into chunks — lips, legs, hair, wrinkles, and, of course, derrieres — promise a film filled with shocking scenes that favor visual impact over storyline.

The premise of the story is straightforward. The washed-up starlet, Elisabeth Sparkle (Moore), is deemed too old to continue hosting televised aerobics shows, marking the end of her dwindling career. Elisabeth was once a talented actress, even rumored to have won an Oscar, according to her boss, Harvey (Dennis Quaid). However, that was so long ago that even Elisabeth has forgotten that she is more than just a pair of toned thighs.

Elisabeth’s solution to this predicament takes the form of a mysterious green liquid called the Substance. This substance splits her cells, creating a younger version of herself who emerges from her back and takes over her life. When this younger version, Sue (Qualley), walks into Elisabeth’s former TV station, Harvey is immediately smitten and crowns her as his new fitness queen. What follows is a high-energy and entertaining montage of buttocks that, if each scene was only shown once, would cut the film’s runtime down to a mere 90 minutes.

However, “The Substance” comes with a couple of caveats. Firstly, the women must alternate weeks, meaning Sue only gets seven days to shine before relinquishing control back to Elisabeth. The more tragic twist is that underneath the surface, Elisabeth/Sue remains unchanged. Her ambitions are still shallow, and she has the same self-loathing that allows her to abandon her unconscious older body on the bathroom floor like a discarded towel. Watching Qualley parade around in a pink bomber jacket and matching lip gloss, it’s as though a Barbie doll has come to life but refuses to grow.

All the male characters in the film are detestable, even the attractive ones, and they evolve into an indistinguishable mass of graying men as the movie progresses. Fargeat is a chaotic feminist, aligning more with a bloodthirsty Carrie at prom, who emphasizes that her heroine’s worst enemy is herself. Sue continues to appease the same men who cast Elisabeth aside. Despite having her back sliced open, there’s no evidence of her showing any backbone.

I find it hard to believe that there’s much depth to this movie. It’s a superficial film about a superficial world, with no pretense of being anything more. Fargeat showcases her unique style, influenced heavily by MTV and 80s VHS, particularly the bloodier bits that provoke both shock and laughter. She and her director of photography, Benjamin Kracun, utilize striking grids, vibrant colors, extreme close-ups, and warping fish-eye lenses. Her storytelling method is so visually centered that her storyboards could be a comic book (the silent opening sequence on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame that depicts Elisabeth’s rise and fall is spectacular). If this were a graphic novel, the only thing missing would be the effective soundscape of squelches and pops, although this would make it easier to stomach a shot of Quaid chewing shrimp or a scene where he appears to urinate on the audience.

It’s rare to find a Cannes screenplay winner that seems so unconcerned with its script. Fargeat, a native French speaker, has stripped the dialogue down to what feels like just a few pages, much of which is reused in flashbacks. Essentially, Fargeat is a remix artist who has crafted the movie like a mixtape of her favorite DVDs of “The Fly” and “Sunset Blvd.” as well as raunchy music videos from the early 2000s. She proudly displays her influences, akin to a plastic surgery patient asking for Angelina’s lips and Charlize’s nose. However, by the time Fargeat cues up “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” (a piece of music that doesn’t need to be in a movie for another 2001 years), we’re eager to hear her authentic voice.

The film’s focus remains solely on Elisabeth and Sue as they morph into each other’s worst nightmares. It doesn’t look into who created the Substance, how many people are using it, or what the manufacturers gain from people disrupting their lives. Unfortunately, it doesn’t show much interest in Elisabeth either. The character is devoid of friends, layers, hobbies, or interests other than being the most attractive woman in the room. When her younger self appears on a talk show, her meaningless comments receive wild applause, implying that her fans don’t care what she says. Without Moore and Qualley’s fully committed performances, the shared role would be as flat as a paper cutout. Without Moore, I’m not sure the film would even succeed.

Moore experienced the Hollywood that Fargeat is mocking first-hand, and in her over 40-year career, she’s likely been asked more about her fitness regimen than her acting skills. Her commitment lends credibility to the movie. No one would allow themselves to be lit so harshly if they didn’t believe in the project. In return, she’s landed a bold, dark, courageous, humorous, and showy role that warrants a career reassessment. Plus, at 61, she convincingly plays a 50-year-old. Despite the film’s insistence that she’s past her prime, we know — and Moore knows we know — that she could outperform any of us in the audience when it comes to squats. (And if she’s not happy with her looks, we’re all in trouble.) As for Qualley, her fearless choice of roles in her career offers the only glimmer of hope in “The Substance.” Her body of work — much more than her physical body — shows that an actress’ fate can improve.