The Substance: Coralie Fargeat and Demi Moore leave Cannes reeling

While Megalopolis was prepped as this year’s most ambitious contender for the Palme d’Or, it has been overtaken in those stakes by what is the most gruesome, shocking and (choosing my words carefully here!) delightful film to hit the Croisette – the feminist body-horror The Substance.

French director Coralie Fargeat burst onto the scene with 2017 brutal thriller Revenge, which was hailed as one of the stronger entries into the revenge fantasy genre. Since then, she has upped the stakes, and the star-casting, with Margaret Qualley and Demi Moore helming her latest opus as two versions of the same character. Elizabeth Star (Demi Moore) is a television host whose arc is slipping after hitting her peak in the business decades back. When she’s dismissed in the search for a younger, prettier woman, Elizabeth begins to take The Substance, a formula which births a new version of Elizabeth from her own body, in the shape of Sue (Margaret Qualley)

Never has there been a more accurate depiction of body horror. From the get-go, veins are continuously injected, fluids drawn out, body parts becoming lumpy and expelling strange objects. This will be a tough watch for anyone squeamish. Indeed, some critics, myself included, watched the film through their hands, with several walkouts. It is rare to find a film so visually unfriendly to the viewer.

MOST UNHINGED YET

At its core, beneath the flashy make-up and incredible effects by Pierre-Olivier Persin, the film muses on the sexism engrained in the entertainment industry and beyond. Though Elizabeth is beautiful and beloved, she is discarded by Studio Executive, Harvey (Dennis Quaid) for a younger model who he believes will bring up ratings and draw viewers in through her sex appeal. And when Sue appears for the first time – eyeing her lustrous body in the mirror – she is subject to those standards. She immediately auditions and wins Elizabeth’s old role, as an aerobics teacher on new series Pump it Up. As she dances (Qualley coming from a professional ballet background) the camera ogles her body, focusing on her skin in a skimpy leotard as she kicks up her legs and bends over. Immediately, the ratings soar.

The film can be considered an eerie parallel to what happens older actresses – with Moore’s career a handy reference point. It was only recently that this two-time academy award winner was quoted stating that an executive informed her a women’s role in the industry was a “sprint, not a marathon.” When you peer closer into the roles available to women over thirty, the cliches step forward, with many female actresses being subjected to the one-dimensional roles of mothers or wives.

How often will an actress be handed a role like Liam Neeson in Taken? Or tackle the lead role in an Oscar-winning biopic like Oppenheimer? Why is it that male actors nearing their fifties are so often paired with women twenty years younger than them? Hollywood’s disregard for older women is a fraught area of movie culture, underlining why it could be considered ironic that a film with this essential message allows Demi Moore to act her most unhinged yet, in a role rarely available for actresses of her age.

Elizabeth’s worries are easy to empathise with. After years of work and effort, she is booted out with a bunch of roses and a lack of acknowledgement. One achingly sad scene which strikes a chord is when Elizabeth – prepping to go on a date with a school friend – goes from make-up free to placing on blush to smearing it over her face, before finally ditching the date. It is interesting that as viewers, we can see Demi Moore is outstandingly beautiful, but Elizabeth is unable to see it in herself. She is so consumed by her aging that she is unable to see anything worth loving.

EXPLOSIVE THIRD ACT

This self-hatred is exacerbated by the creation of “Sue”.

Sue, the younger, cattier version of Elizabeth has her eyes set on the prize of hitting the heights of Elizabeth’s original fame. Interestingly, though both characters are referred to as one, each has very different mindsets. Sue, revelling in her newfound adoration and attention is reluctant to return the wheel to Elizabeth, even though they are instructed to swap every seven days. As her stardom rises and more opportunities come her way, she begins to abuse the guidelines – leading to much worse consequences for Elizabeth.

It can sometimes be frustrating that Sue in particular ignores the instructions but it’s a relatable conundrum – the idea that pushing things an inch won’t cause trouble until the inch becomes a mile. Elizabeth becomes angrier but is unable to stop Sue, especially as her body goes through horrific changes which makes remaining in it even more pointless.

“You would be nothing without me,” Elizabeth seethes at one stage, watching Sue on a re-run of a late night television show. There is something interesting at play, harking back to this idea of female icons being replaced by younger women.

The film comes to a fierce conclusion in the most explosive third act witnessed at Cannes in years. I won’t venture into spoiler territory – it’s best to go in blind. But there are technical achievements involved that deserve to be recognised come awards season – honestly, it will be a crime if they’re not. Also prep yourself for beyond The Fly strangeness. Things get truly weird.

“They want more and more and more of you,” Harvey remarks at one stage to Sue. And it’s true, the way we consume women and expect them to be beautiful, likeable and always going that extra step. But the film wraps the consequences of this type of demand up in blood – and God, is it glorious.