**Have You Seen *The Substance* Yet? Here’s Why This Gruesome, Wild Horror-Comedy is the Ideal Way to Begin 2025**
Have you checked out *[The Substance](https://mashable.com/article/the-substance-review)* yet? This outrageous horror-comedy crafted by French director [Coralie Fargeat](https://mashable.com/video/the-substance-coralie-fargeat-interview) (*Revenge*) has gone from being a highlight at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival to one of the year’s most polarizing releases. Some people love it, others revile it—but that hasn’t prevented it from appearing on [our Best Films of 2024 list](https://mashable.com/article/best-movies-2024). No matter your stance, *The Substance* is an audacious and fitting way to usher in a new year and a new you.
This gritty film culminates in a New Year’s Eve extravaganza hosted by its main character, and its narrative of moving from self-hatred to self-acceptance is strangely motivating in its peculiar manner.
Let’s delve deeper (warning: spoilers ahead).
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### *The Substance* Delivers a Grisly View of Beauty Norms
Demi Moore takes on the role of Elisabeth Sparkle, a Hollywood luminary with a star on the Walk of Fame, an Oscar nod, and a perennial workout program. However, as Elisabeth approaches 50, a youth-obsessed Los Angeles shuns her. Harvey (played by an unappealing Dennis Quaid), a sleazy producer, dismisses her for daring to age and immediately seeks a younger substitute with her “sparkle.” Meanwhile, Harvey himself gets to be old, unattractive, and clad in flashy suits—because, naturally, he’s a man.
Casting Moore as Elisabeth provides an extra layer of meta-commentary in *The Substance*. Moore, regarded as a sex symbol for many years, has notably embraced her body in films like *Indecent Proposal* and *Striptease*, in addition to her iconic 1991 *Vanity Fair* cover showing her pregnant and nude. Yet, as societal expectations go, women are often pressured to either conceal themselves as they age or morph into cosmetic resemblances of their younger selves.
Through Elisabeth, Moore navigates this societal snare. In one scene, Elisabeth gazes at her nude figure in the mirror with disappointment. While Moore undeniably retains her beauty, Fargeat employs uncomplimentary, distancing perspectives to showcase Elisabeth’s body dysmorphia. She fails to see herself as she is but rather as she *isn’t*, consistently contrasting herself with the youthful image plastered on promotional materials for her show. Her defeated visage seems to convey, “There’s only so much working out and makeup can achieve.”
Thus, when Elisabeth is presented with “the substance” as a chance to recapture her youth, she eagerly seizes the opportunity, disregarding all warning signs. For anyone who has ever felt tempted by an anti-aging miracle product, the lure is all too evident. But Fargeat escalates this idea to grotesque extremes.
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### *The Substance* Investigates the Dangers of Seeking External Approval
The substance, a luminescent neon liquid, ignites a horrifying transformation. Elisabeth’s back ruptures, giving birth to Sue (played by Margaret Qualley), a younger, wrinkle-free iteration of herself with an immaculate, hyper-sexualized physique. Unsurprisingly, Harvey selects Sue as Elisabeth’s successor, transforming the workout show into a glitzy, hyper-feminine showcase saturated in pinks and objectifying close-ups.
The rules governing the substance are straightforward: Elisabeth and Sue must alternate weeks of activity. When Sue is active, Elisabeth lies bare and motionless on the bathroom floor. When it’s Elisabeth’s turn, she recalls none of Sue’s experiences and feels confined in her home by her self-doubt. Nevertheless, Elisabeth persists with the arrangement.
Why? Because Elisabeth’s identity is completely intertwined with her profession and fame. She possesses no friends or family, and her sense of self-worth hinges on external validation. Even though she cannot directly experience Sue’s popularity, she observes the billboards, hears the neighbor’s lustful remarks, and watches talk show hosts dote on Sue. These fleeting glimpses of Sue’s triumph bolster Elisabeth’s ego, yet they never fulfill her.
Meanwhile, Sue flourishes on fame and external validation, which becomes her sole reason for living. But her craving for attention leads her to drain Elisabeth’s dwindling life force, reducing the older woman to a frail crone. Physically, Elisabeth morphs into the witch juxtaposed against Sue’s flawless princess—a tangible embodiment of her anxieties about aging.
Eventually, Elisabeth fights back, yet escaping the toxic cycle of seeking external validation proves to be a challenging feat.
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### *The Substance*’s Twisted Conclusion is the Inspiration