The Substance is a film about the lengths women go to in order to remain relevant. In this context, “relevant” is synonymous with physical appearance, as society often equates a woman’s worth with her looks and fertility. Aging has long been an issue for women because they are defined by their physicality — whether it’s their beauty or biological clock. Men, however, regardless of age or appearance, continue to hold power and influence.
Women are pressured to keep up with ever-changing beauty trends, even when they’re unsafe or controversial. Beauty, for women, is often the most rewarded trait, driving a relentless pursuit of perfection through treatments, surgeries, and drastic measures. The Substance critiques this societal expectation, highlighting the dangerous cost of chasing external validation.
At its core, The Substance explores the battle between your peak self and your current self. You may feel the same internally, but you may no longer look the same, and society may not view you the same way. This tension is embodied in the character of Sue (Margaret Qualley), whose relevance is not rooted in her authenticity, but in the image society demands. The film delves into the idea that the self you wish to present to the world becomes the self you seek to embody — whether or not it’s truly you.
The film emphasizes the duality of our identities, with The Substance repeatedly reinforcing that there should be balance between the two selves — the one you were at your peak and the one you are now. It’s natural to want to become your best version, even if that version is no longer you. But when that balance is disrupted, the consequences are severe. The film portrays this through Elisabeth’s (Demi Moore) transformation, as she becomes unrecognizable, a tragic byproduct of chasing an unattainable ideal. Both Elisabeth and Sue ultimately become monstrous versions of themselves, a visual echo of Carrie as they burst on stage, drenched in blood — a symbolic moment that mirrors Carrie’s own fate, where the balance between self and societal expectation shatters.
Throughout The Substance, the male gaze is ever-present. The camera often lingers on women’s bodies, and the power dynamics are underscored by the presence of old, white male executives, not unlike Barbie. The message is clear: it’s still a man’s world, where women are objectified, controlled, and profited from. In this capitalist landscape, women are treated as commodities, devoured like food, consumed by the gaze and expectations placed upon them.
The film also invites multiple interpretations, such as the tension between older women and younger women, where the former are depicted as evil witches, while the latter remain pure and innocent — reminiscent of Snow White. There’s also an exploration of parent-child dynamics, hinting at a deeper bond or shared consciousness. Despite Sue’s selfishness, Elisabeth refuses to destroy her, even though Sue’s choices have turned her into a monster.
Admittedly, there are some plot holes — like the fate of the other character undergoing the same experience, or whether it was even possible for Sue and Elisabeth to be conscious at the same time given the mechanics of their transformation. But what’s most striking is Sue’s disdain for Elisabeth, a reflection of the loathing we often have for ourselves. We’re not beautiful enough, fit enough, or smart enough — we’re just never enough.
Visually, The Substance is stunning, with insane sequences and epic scoring that heighten the intensity of the narrative. The body horror elements are grotesque and not for the faint of heart, but the absurdity of it all makes sense all throughout and by the film’s conclusion. It’s an example of a film that pushes boundaries while making a deeper point about identity, self-worth, and societal expectations.
