Coralie Fargeat’s ‘The Substance’ is a body horror masterpiece that’s as smart as it is gross, but the film’s exploration of vanity, desperation, and the male gaze have coursed through her entire filmography. “Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself? Younger, more beautiful, more perfect.” This article contains spoilers for The Substance. […]
Both “Only Sin Deep” and The Substance create dramatic tension through the loss of their protagonist’s beauty, but Tales From the Crypt unsurprisingly presents a more simplistic and pulpy take on this monkey’s paw narrative. If nothing else, the juxtaposition highlights how the horror genre has been telling these types of stories for over 35 years, yet they’ve become infinitely more powerful, nuanced, and critical. Fargeat has cited both David Lynch and David Cronenberg as some of the biggest inspirations on her filmmaking career and it’s hard to not think of Mulholland Dr.’s uncomfortable audition scenes and the hyper-stylized glitz and glamor of its dark presentation of Hollywood or the gender-driven body horror of The Brood during The Substance. Kevin Kolsch and Dennis Widmyer’s breakout feature, Starry Eyes, is also another appropriate companion piece that equates Hollywood’s casting couch and “meat market” to a demonic pact that’s literally akin to selling one’s soul — and beauty — to the better.
Brian Yuzna’s stomach-turning magnum opus, Society, is another horror movie that will inevitably enter conversations about The Substance. Society uses body horror, imposter syndrome, and beauty standards as more of a commentary on social status and class struggles, rather than specifically gender-driven strife that’s the result of fading looks. However, Society still wrestles with many of the same ideas through an equally gross and obtrusive lens. The horror genre has been fascinated by this parallel for decades, but it’s Fargeat’s The Substance that perfects the idea and pushes it to its bloody, bewildering, beautiful apex. It’s also no coincidence that The Substance is the only film from this lot that’s actually presented by a female filmmaker who implicitly understands the industry’s predatory and skewed nature.
The Substance is such a powerful encapsulation of these ideas, but it’s important to recognize that these themes of insecurity, vanity, false beauty, and the male gaze have been prevalent through Fargeat’s entire filmography. The Substance becomes the “final form” of this thesis that takes these ideas to the most exciting and visceral places. That being said, it’s important to recognize that Fargeat has already made the perfect body horror companion piece for The Substance that helped her crystalize these themes. Reality+, Fargeat’s 2014 short film, is the perfect aperitif for The Substance and in many ways it feels like the latter couldn’t exist without it.
Reality+ is set in the near future and centers around a neurological chip, Reality+, that alters one’s perception so that they see themselves as the perfect physical specimen. This augmented reality is also experienced by anyone else who has also equipped themselves with a Reality+ chip, which leads to a vain feedback loop of delusion. Much like in The Substance, this perfection is limited. Reality+ can only be activated for a 12-hour stretch before the human body needs to reboot and recover from this mental stress. Reality+ and The Substance are equally interested in the physical and mental anguish of this process as they are in the beauty and validation that are behind it.
Reality+ and The Substance are both set in worlds where chiseled bodies and attractive individuals flood billboards and are inescapable. They both feature reflective shots that echo each other where their leads – Vincent Dangeville (Vincent Colombe) and Elisabeth Sparkle – painstakingly scrutinize themselves in front of a mirror. There’s also a shorthand in both where scars are tools that are used to recognize who is in the “program” and special, like they’ve been branded by beauty. However, Reality+’s perception-altering tech is more accepted and mainstream than the secretive, cult-like institution that pulls the strings in The Substance. There’s even a destination, Club+, where Reality+ users can congregate, party, and indulge in heightened hedonism. It still feels like both films could be set in the same universe — or even involve the same company — and that Reality+ is the safer evolution of what’s going on in The Substance.
Reality+ has a slightly different vibe than The Substance in the sense that its protagonist is a man, not a woman. It doesn’t explore the same woes of aging and becoming irrelevant, but its society is still painted in a comparable degree of inadequacy and insecurity. That being said, it’s curious that the leads in both stories are far from unattractive. However, the fact that they feel like they need to do this to succeed is telling and a reflection of just how judgmental and cutthroat society has become. Elisabeth actually has a reason to engage in this process — she’s losing her job — but there’s no indication of how dire Vincent’s situation is and if anything is at stake other than his own vanity and lackluster sex life. Reality+ is presented as a privilege, perk, and luxury for the men in Reality+, whereas it’s necessary for survival and maintained relevance in The Substance.
Elisabeth does this to maintain her station and the life that she’s known, whereas Vincent does it to get a taste of something he’s never experienced before, but still feels like he deserves. It’s triggered through male hubris, rather than female fear and the patriarchal gaze. It’s telling that Reality+ doesn’t begin with a scene where Vincent gets dumped, mocked by women in public, or turned down on some dating app. There’s no insight into why he does this rather than feeling like he deserves better. Alternatively, The Substance really lets you understand Elisabeth’s plight and her reluctance to even engage in such a process before it happens. In Reality+, Vincent, presumably, jumps right into this with zero qualms.
Both movies also explore the idea of becoming greedier and less grateful for this incredible science and opportunity. These addictions become so extreme that Vincent and Sue (Margaret Qualley) find ways to hack the system and “jailbreak” these technological advancements so that they can be their best selves 24/7 without ever having to accept “reality.” The Substance explores the debilitating consequences and side effects of abusing this system, while Reality+ doesn’t necessarily highlight this side of the story and concludes with more of a playful irony. Reality+ isn’t nearly as bleak and destructive in its storytelling, but both films still ultimately argue that the subjects would have been happier in their original states and in their own skin, so to speak, while this “grass is always greener” mentality reigns supreme. The Substance’s dark and destructive ending may be yet another way for Fargeat to reinforce that this vain system of perfection is rigged against women and far more dangerous. Elisabeth, Sue, and Monstro Elisasue are pushed to brutal breaking points where they cease to exist, whereas Reality+’s Vincent is ultimately no worse for wear, even if his pride and confidence have taken a hit.
It’s also rather telling that The Substance is a film that’s consistently filtered and subjected to the male gaze, which hits even harder because of its female protagonists. There are so many shots that are presented in jarring fish eye lenses and other stylistic devices that skew the world’s presentation so everything feels gross and artificial. Reality+ takes a similar, yet contrasting approach where the entire world is presented as artificial, but glossy and perfect as both the protagonist and the audience experience everything through the Reality+ filter. Reality+ makes the audience complicit in the male gaze, whereas The Substance subjects them to it so the gross consequences hang over the viewer and are inescapable. By the end of The Substance, the audience wishes that they had a Reality+ filter to sanitize and censor the experience. Too bad. This is real life and it’s going to hideously mutate and spray blood all over you. Hope you brought a poncho.
The Substance subjects the audience to the male gaze and leaves them feeling gross and violated, but it also makes the audience complicit in this experience — particularly during Sue’s extremely over the top aerobic segments that reach the heights of parody and then twerk in its face. The Substance wants the audience to receive that hit of dopamine — like their molly just kicked in — and then wrestle with the crash and comedown. It’s a creative way to weaponize the male gaze where the audience — and Sue — are just as titillated. It’s a complex evolution of what’s going on in Reality+ that occasionally captures the same glossy filter, but with an internal disgust and gag factor that’s completely absent in Reality+.
2017’s Revenge, while a very different story than what’s going on in Reality+ and The Substance, still breeds conflict from the male gaze and how it victimizes and destroys. Jen (Matilda Lutz) experiences a metamorphosis that’s nearly as extreme as what Elisabeth endures and is the direct result of her beauty and the assumptions that accompany it. Jen is put in a life or death situation where she’s discarded and treated like trash because of her physical appearance and her submissive relationship with men and her problems arise when she pushes back and tries to refuse the station that she’s been slotted into in life. In Revenge, Jen brings about her own evolution rather than becoming a cog in the system and it’s why she survives the film and actually experiences some semblance of a happy ending.
Revenge is the perfect stepping stone between Reality+ and The Substance that reminds audiences of society’s pressures and how the best tools for survival lie inside us, not elsewhere, manufactured by corporations. Jen has to fight and claw her way up through the patriarchy and bring herself back to life, but she still does it and becomes a phoenix of female empowerment. It’s a glimpse of how everything can go right before it all falls apart in The Substance. Elisabeth doesn’t pull herself off a tree branch like Jen; she impales herself with one and then pretends that she likes it and smiles through the pain.
The Substance is captivating, condemning, lightning in a bottle filmmaking that’s one of the best body horror stories in decades. Fargeat has distilled and bottled something truly special here, but her potent potion works even better when it’s viewed in the context of an ever-evolving filmography that’s consistently experimented with these themes and finally perfected its foundation. There’s just enough gore, guts, and soul slathered on the screen for its subject matter to be ready for its big close up and flash a toothy, blood-soaked smile.
“Pretty girls should always smile,” after all.
‘The Substance’ is now playing in theaters. ‘Reality+’ is available to stream on YouTube.
