By Rebecca Ceccatelli. Cover image by Iulia Ecaterina Paraschiv.
Some viewers walk out of the theatre halfway through the film, while others enter with empty stomachs, forewarned by those who have seen it before: this is The Substance. It has already been dubbed the most disturbing film of the year, and director Coralie Fargeat is likely proud of that title. With this film, she introduces a new wave of body horror to cinemas, clearly not aiming to entertain the audience—a point made clear from the film’s very first scenes. The menacing close-up of the show director’s smoke-stained teeth delivers equally painful words: “We need a new star, you’re not working anymore”.
Elisabeth Sparkles, portrayed by Demi Moore, is now crossing the threshold of her 50s and deemed unfit to continue hosting the aerobics TV show that has long been her signature. As a parting gift, she receives a book wrapped with a red ribbon, marking her exit from the office. However, no one knows that she will soon return—in a completely new form.
Why are we drawn to the disturbing, sometimes even more than to aesthetic beauty? The Substance not only confronts us with this gory reality but also uses it as a tool to delve deeper into our psyches.
How The Substance Body Horror Movie opens up to personal insights
Where Do All Stars Go After Their 15 Minutes of Fame?
Andy Warhol has been warning us since 1968 that “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes”. Although this quote, which he first used in his installation at the Moderna Museet in Stockholm, doesn’t precisely belong to him, it raises an interesting question. If everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame, what happens next?
The Substance focuses on the theme of how an individual’s value diminishes in the face of time and the ageing process, particularly within the entertainment industry. It follows the story of Elisabeth Sparkles, played by sixty-year-old Demi Moore, who continues to evoke envy for her beauty despite having surpassed the notorious middle age. Her firing serves as a metaphor for a society that idolises eternal youth and perfection. However, it’s not just this event that causes Elisabeth to feel inadequate; she has always questioned her worth even in the midst of her success.
In a hallway filled with photos of her younger self and other much younger colleagues featured on TV shows and magazine covers, she feels out of place. But it’s only after being fired that she comes to this realisation. So, faced with the announcement of her replacement on her own show, a car accident leads her to encounter an apparently novice nurse with electric blue eyes. Although her initial medical tests go well, he subjects her to another examination, determining that she is “the perfect candidate.” He then sends her off with a USB drive and a note that reads: “It changed my life.”
How Graphic Design in The Substance Shapes Our Perception
Brat music plays, and a egg yolk duplicates on the screen. The creator, a figure destined to remain forever anonymous, symbolises the facelessness of a stereotype that emerges in society and poses the fateful question: Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself?
A final phone number appears, and the transition is swift—Elisabeth becomes case 503 and is ready to go and collect her kit. Fun fact: an identical kit had been delivered to selected PRs shortly before the release of the movie as part of a promotional strategy, which we must say is quite clever.
What captures attention, however, is the graphic choice of this organisation that promises a second life. Bold black lettering prominently features on the essential items in the kit. The card used to open the box, each instruction slip, and the vacuum-sealed plastic bags containing the substance all showcase this striking design.
“You stabilize every day”, “You switch every seven days. Without exception”, “Remember you are one”—each message is written in capital letters on white slips of uniform size, with evenly spaced letters and no distracting decorative elements. Geometric precision reigns supreme.
@odehorreur Ce matin dans ma boite aux lettres j’ai reçu le flacon activateur du film THE SUBSTANCE (j’ai tellement hâte de découvrir le film) au 6 novembre au cinéma #thesubstance #trythesubstance #demimoore #margaretqualley #filmhorreur #onregardequoi Merci @Metropolitan Films et @Diversification ♬ The Substance (Original Motion Picture Score) – Raffertie
“The entire time I watched this movie, I kept thinking, ‘This secret organisation really has their design department together…’” a user commented below a post on the Instagram page of @pointeaupointgilles, the graphic designer responsible for the film’s entire visual identity, including its promotional campaign. “Very happy to have done this massive typeface and be a little part of this stunning masterpiece,” he expressed on the film’s release post.
But is it really just a “small part” of the film? With its rigorous consistency throughout, the typeface becomes a pivotal character—a structural pillar of the narrative. It embodies the anonymous voice that orchestrates the scientific experimentation organisation. Without a face to associate with this entity, the typography becomes the sole representation we hold in our minds.
In a masterful play of associations, the designer’s work resonates deeply within us, just as it convinces Elisabeth. The unwavering precision of the letters instils in her the confidence that her transformation will be executed in the best possible manner.“You activate only once,” the condition states. Within minutes, Sue—played by Margaret Qualley, already a rising star from Kinds of Kindness and Poor Things—emerges from behind Elisabeth. This moment mirrors the biblical creation, where Eve is formed from Adam’s rib, but now it is Eve that brings forth a new and improved version of herself.
Unlimited Gore Glues Viewers to the Screen. Stylistic Choices and Appropriations
The moment of rebirth unfolds as a cascade of anxiety mixed with strict rule-following, creating a tension that captivates the audience. Sue, the new Elisabeth, stitches up the back of her matrix like a Caesarean incision, immediately claiming her former self’s place on the TV show. And it’s true—everyone loves her. Soon, she is given the most coveted time slots, but she sets one condition from the start: she can only work every other week, because she has to care for her sick mother.
With a macabre undertone, we come to understand who her “mother” really is. Every day of the seven-day cycle, Sue must inject herself with Elisabeth’s spinal fluid, and at the end of the cycle, they must switch places. This marks the beginning of a series of events in their parallel lives, captured through oppressive close-ups, saturated colours, and macro details that emphasise both their imperfections and perfection. Within this stylistic framework, the story unfolds. Elisabeth, with her signature yellow coat, appears in all her iterations, emphasising her role as the matrix of this duplication. By the end, the two will converge into a single form, completing the cycle.
Carefully chosen camera angles shape the narrative, reflecting the teachings of cinematic greats. Although it is not explicitly stated, Fargeat’s homage to Stanley Kubrick is unmistakable—especially in the wallpapered hallway and the eventual monstrous transformation scene. Similarly, the influence of David Cronenberg can be felt in elements reminiscent of The Fly and the extreme close-up of lips. But the references don’t end there; viewers have enjoyed identifying at least a dozen more, none of which are subtle. Instead, they are presented boldly as a loving nod to the filmmaking masters of the past.
Beneath this homage lies a deeper message about imitation as a metaphor for success. The film’s success undeniably draws strength from these carefully curated details. Isn’t that how we, too, strive to be our best selves? We imitate those we admire, hoping to share in the glow of their brilliance and achieve a similar transformation.
@namelesschocobo Here are just a few of the many references in the film ‘The Substance’ I also caught the ‘Vertigo’ score during the film’s climax, the slight nod to ‘Revenge’, some parallels to ‘Death Becomes Her’ and as a non-film reference, the similarities with ‘the Cask of Amontillado’ What else did you catch? #thesubstance #filmtok #film #thesubstancemovie #movies #cinema ♬ The Substance – Raffertie
Was that the Finale We Deserved?
After a series of blood-soaked scenes, the film reaches its final 20 minutes—a segment that many critics argue undermines what had previously been a masterful work. Not only do these final scenes become even more filled with gore, but they also push into such excess that they almost negate the discomfort and disgust they are intended to provoke.
As Elisabeth spirals into madness over Sue’s violation of the seven-day rule, she violently tears apart the matrix’s body. Meanwhile, Sue struggles to survive by relying on her creator. However, this desperate game inevitably reaches a breaking point.
Everything culminates in the monstrous figure that emerges when Sue, in a last-ditch effort to stabilise her body, attempts to extend her life just long enough to host the all-important New Year’s Eve show. By injecting herself once more with the glowing yellow fluid, she inadvertently spawns a singular creature, something far from human. This being embodies a monstrous fusion of both Elisabeth and Sue. A title card announces the name Elisasue, presented in the same bold font reflecting the film’s unified graphic identity.
What disappointed fans who had otherwise loved the rest of the film was that a story brimming with potential chose not to remain abstract, leaving viewers to ponder different interpretations of the ending. Instead, it unfolds everything to its conclusion, depicting the decline of Sue as a star and the slow demise of Elisabeth Sparkles—both as an individual and as part of the duo.
However, this descent is presented through a blend of grotesque, almost trashy scenes, with fountains of blood and bursts of exploding flesh dominating the screen. For many, this undermines the credibility of the serious tone that had been carefully established up to that point. This is why so many are left asking: Was this really the ending we deserved?
At the same time, we, as viewers, bear some responsibility for allowing directors to push boundaries this far, given our growing appetite for visually disturbing content. Let’s not forget that The Substance is fundamentally a body horror film, and it is precisely in its final act that it fully embraces the essence of its genre.
