Injecting Insight into The Substance

Dark, provocative and outrageously indulgent, Coralie Fargeat's The Substance serves as a dark fantasy parable that critiques misogyny and body objectification.

The obsession with appearance is a longstanding concern, one that has preoccupied societies for centuries. From the medieval practice of using urine to dye hair, to the modern craze of injecting drugs like Ozempic, we continue to be entranced by external looks. This relentless focus on outward appearance reflects a deep-seated cultural fixation that shows no signs of fading. 

What is The Substance About? 

Elisabeth Sparkle is a star✴

Her name is synonymous with brilliance, much like her early career and the snow globe of her beautiful self she obsessively admires.

Everything shifts on her 50th birthday when that sparkle begins to fade. Despite her beauty and health, she is forced to confront the harsh reality of being labelled as unworthy. One can’t help but wonder how it feels to be cast aside by a society that prizes youth and beauty above all.

Elisabeth Sparkle serves as a cautionary example - someone to avoid becoming. She joins the ranks of other negative role models, like Tonya Harding in I, Tonya, Nina from Black Swan, and Andrew from Whiplash. Similarly, the character of Sue embodies an unrealistic standard we shouldn’t set for ourselves. After all, “perfection” is fleeting, and your worth as a person cannot, and should not, be measured by how you looked in your prime, despite what Hollywood may suggest.

In this analysis, I’ll examine the motifs and themes that I see as essential to understanding the film, along with my interpretation of their significance...

The Egg

The Substance greets viewers with the image of a cracked egg. A long needle filled with an unnaturally green fluid enters the frame, which pierces the yolk, causing the egg to jitter and duplicate. This vivid moment encapsulates the film’s central premise: the existence of a substance that can create another version of an already-existing being. The opening act of duplication invites viewers to consider what it means to create life and how that life relates to the original.

This clinical scene immediately evokes associations with IVF and suggests the film's exploration of the societal pressures women feel regarding procreation.

As the number of their eggs begins to decline, women are often seen as losing their "value" after age 25.✧ By age 35, this decline accelerates, and the remaining eggs are frequently viewed as less viable. This contributes to the misguided belief that a woman's worth is tied to her fertility and, by extension, her youth. Thus, the story sets the stage for exploring the various dimensions of loss that can only be fully grasped by women.

This becomes an even bigger discussion when considering cases such as Roe v. Wade, which fundamentally addressed women's rights over their own bodies and reproductive choices. The overturning of Roe v. Wade in 2022 has fostered debate about limiting female reproductive choices much like the themes explored in The Substance. In the film, Elisabeth's struggle with her identity and worth is intricately tied to societal expectations surrounding beauty and motherhood. There is a parallel that can be found between the Roe V Wade overturning and Elisabeth's own feelings of powerlessness as she grapples with aging and the relentless pursuit of youth.

Voice, Autonomy and ... Shrimp?

The Substance doesn’t feature lengthy monologues from its female characters lamenting the unfairness of life. Instead, this perspective comes from an elderly man, who is later revealed to have taken the substance and be the same conventionally attractive, wide-eyed male nurse who comments on Elisabeth's suitability for the experiment.

His insecurities reflect a broader societal pressure to conform, suggesting that those who grapple with their own shortcomings often drag others down with them as it can feel less isolating to share in misery.

Elisabeth's own autonomy is ambiguous as she was subtly coerced into allowing him to perform yet another test, all without receiving her explicit permission. If Elisabeth hadn't been fired from her tv show and had her life curtailed by society's insistence that she was too old, would she feel compelled to change anything about herself at all? External pressures seem to shape her choices, distorting her personal desires and suggests that this is what drives individuals to conform to ideals that may not resonate with their true selves.

Knowledge of Elisabeth's true life is scarce; we see little beyond her stage persona, the glamorous posters, and her swanky apartment. This superficial understanding obscures her genuine character and personal interests, leaving audiences with a fragmented view of who she really is. While Elisabeth has no children, Sue emerges as a manifestation of her. This dynamic suggests that a woman's life may cease to be her own once she assumes the role of a mother, even in a metaphorical sense. (More about this later!)

After being fired, Elisabeth sits in silence as Harvey talks and devours an excessive amount of shrimp. This moment is often regarded as the film's most disturbing, overshadowing even the blood and gore that follows. While it might be easy to dismiss this scene as simply a trigger for disgust, Harvey's actions serve as a metaphor for how women are treated in Hollywood. Destroyed and discarded like shrimp, women are quickly replaced by "newer models," much like cars. He leaves the shrimp heads and half-eaten bodies on the table, wasting food without a hint of remorse.

In this way, Elisabeth becomes a wasted delicacy, embodying the objectification of women. She has been used and cast aside, left for someone else to clean up the mess.

It’s crucial to note that it is a man who perpetuates this cycle. Harvey's incessant chatter robs Elisabeth of her voice and agency, as he discusses her future without considering her worth or contributions. He profits from the female body yet shows no gratitude or respect when he is finished, reinforcing the film's critique of gender dynamics and the commodification of women in the industry.

Addiction and the Activator

In The Substance, characters pursue their desires with little regard for the harm they inflict on others, even if it ultimately leads to their own self-destruction. The film draws parallels to the duality of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, showcasing a clear divide between the "good" and the "evil" within. But who truly embodies that evil?

The phone operator emphasizes their connection, stating that they are one and must respect the boundaries between them. Yet, Elisabeth struggles to grasp that trying to live as if she were in her early twenties is neither healthy nor sustainable. This refusal to accept the realities of aging and the consequences of her choices underscores her internal conflict and the immense pressure society places on women to uphold an unrealistic version of youth.

The pursuit of beauty and youth becomes an addiction, akin to substance abuse, where the validation from others serves as the high. The physical act of injecting the substance parallels the behaviours of those addicted to drugs, reflecting a desperate attempt to achieve an idealized self. This mirrors the culture surrounding eating disorders, where individuals become fixated on losing weight and receiving compliments, often driven by the allure of attention.

In this way, Sue represents the fleeting high of beauty and desirability, blinding Elisabeth to the reality of her own deterioration until the effects of the "high" wear off.

The risks associated with cosmetic procedures underscore this addiction to validation. Women often willingly alter their bodies completing surgery on noses, eyes, and more, despite the potential for irreversible damage. This spurs us to consider the extent individuals will go for external approval and the dangers inherent in chasing an ideal that may never be fully attainable.

Food and Sustenance

Food plays a crucial role in the visual language of The Substance, starting with the previously mentioned egg yolk. We catch a glimpse of Elisabeth’s Hollywood Walk of Fame star, a symbol of her career's highs and lows. Once a source of pride and attraction, it now lies neglected, covered in ketchup by a passer by, an image that foreshadows the violence she will eventually unleash upon her own body through her relationship with food.

At the film's outset, Elisabeth barely eats, perhaps popping an olive into her mouth while sipping a martini or frying a pair of eggs, again referencing the initial egg motif. In contrast, Sue, who takes over Elisabeth’s position at the network, adheres to an even more austere diet, with her refrigerator stocked solely with cans of crisp Diet Coke. As Sue becomes more established, Elisabeth's resentment grows, and she channels her self-loathing into reckless eating. Leaving behind a trail of chicken bones and breakfast remnants in Sue’s posh apartment, she mirrors the mess left by her old boss, Harvey.

Elisabeth’s appetite becomes a rebellion against the constraints imposed on her by society and her own insecurities. As she spirals into agoraphobia and self-punishment, she seeks solace in food, stocking her refrigerator. However, her body punishes her for this breach of feminine propriety, During the filming of an exercise show, Sue discovers a chicken leg protruding from her belly button - a nightmarish manifestation of Elisabeth's guilt over her eating habits.

The theme of appetite extends beyond mere food; it also reflects the insatiable hunger for fame and validation. As Sue basks in the limelight, showcasing her success on television, we witness the direct relationship between Elisabeth's culinary acts and Sue's public persona. Sue’s rise comes at the cost of Elisabeth’s identity, suggesting that as one thrives, the other withers.

Elisabeth embodies sustenance, yet her physical decay becomes a visceral representation of the toll this pursuit takes on her body. The invasive nature of Sue's existence mirrors that of motherhood; just as a child alters a woman's body forever, Sue emerges from Elisabeth in a way that leaves lasting scars—both physical and emotional.

Elisabeth's stitched-up body serves as a constant reminder of this invasive transformation, akin to the changes brought about by childbirth.

This scene is marked by violence and connects deeply to traditional notions of motherhood and the hyper-feminine role often assigned to women in the kitchen. Elisabeth has been reduced to this singular identity, embodying the expectation that women should find purpose and fulfilment through domesticity. In her frantic cooking, she, reveals the brutality of being confined to such narrow definitions of femininity. The act of preparing food becomes both an assertion of agency and a painful reminder of how far she has fallen from her former self.

Final Thoughts...

I highly recommend watching this movie if you're interested in any of the themes we've discussed today or if you enjoy horror in general.

After watching, I found myself contemplating the societal link between beauty and value in a world where filters and perspective can make you question what is real and what is not.

✧Information taken from the Extend Fertility website.