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The terrifying prospect of becoming old—or not—is faced by a courageous Demi Moore in “The Substance.”

The terrifying prospect of becoming old—or not—is faced by a courageous Demi Moore in “The Substance.”

For a while in the 1990s, Demi Moore held the title of highest-paid actress globally, taking home $12 million for the film “Striptease.” Moore’s career slowed down after hitting that pinnacle, although she has since taken on a variety of parts, most recently stealing a few scenes in “Feud: Capote vs. The Swans” as a miserable socialite. She hasn’t, however, had a juicy lead role like the one she has in “The Substance,” a terrifying sci-fi satire that debuted at the Cannes Film Festival on May 19 and features a body-horror theme.

The unrelenting pressure on women to be perpetually youthful and attractive, reality be damned, is a culture that Moore is all too familiar with, and it is mercilessly targeted in this film by French writer-director Coralie Fargeat. Moore is a good fit for the part in this sense because the media has followed, analyzed, and ignored her throughout her 40-year career. Moore devotes herself fully to “The Substance,” giving her all for a job that asks for so much. Perhaps she wants to express all of that, or at least make a statement about it.

She portrays Elizabeth Sparkle, a former movie star who, in an apparent reference to Jane Fonda, is now a TV fitness expert. When she’s not grinning and swaying in front of the camera, Elizabeth leads a lonely life. Elizabeth purchases an enigmatic elixir that purports to transform her into a younger version of herself after finding out that the show’s producers are replacing her with a younger model. This information is conveyed via a voice-over video. Unlike the serum used on Isabella Rossellini in “Death Becomes Her,” this one does more than simply slow down time. Rather, it grotesquely uses Elizabeth’s DNA to construct a second body.

Elizabeth is not warned what might happen, although she can spend seven days as a younger girl, played by Margaret Qualley, but she has to go back to her normal shape every other week.

Do you believe Elizabeth abides by that rule, dear reader? She wouldn’t, of course; would you, if you had the opportunity to inhabit a body that the rest of the world found to be far more attractive? With her new identity, Elizabeth, now known as Sue, swiftly returns to her career and rises through the ranks of celebrity, while her former self lies asleep on the floor of a restroom or stashed away in a closet. It’s a heartbreaking scene, a total surrender to social pressures.

Though “The Substance” doesn’t go into great detail about the unsettling link between internal and external forces, Elizabeth makes demands of herself.

The hyper-stylized environment that Fargeat creates for the movie may lessen the significance of its message. It would be nice if the movie had a stronger sense of realism to contrast with the more strange aspects of Elizabeth’s private life. Fargeat can only make a general statement without such detail, mainly about plastic surgery and other cosmetic procedures.

Maybe too much guilt is laid on the women in this critique who, in some situations, go too far with these therapies. At its core, “The Substance” depicts a really tragic narrative about a woman who destroys herself in the desperate goal of obtaining the opposite, despite being amusing and entertainingly ludicrous. But Fargeat rejects this kind of reflection, and when the movie goes above two hours, it keeps pushing gory humor. There seem to be multiple endings, as though Fargeat was unable to choose between numerous excellent concepts for the closing shots. They are so included one after the other, lessening the overall impact of the movie.

Still, Moore and Qualley continue to market it. Moore especially captures our attention, deftly handling a dramatic metamorphosis that may be her most muscular performance since “G.I. Jane.” It’s exciting to watch an actor lose her soul like way, demonstrating such commitment to her role. Fargeat mostly succeeds in meeting that threshold. The work is fruitful, since “The Substance” attracted a sizable audience at the festival.

This may be a little odd given the specific mindset about women and beauty that permeates Cannes. Here we are all together, relishing the overthrow of a system in which we willingly participate. That, I believe, is the tragic irony of “The Substance,” a cruel and ingenious movie that, although intelligent, could have been sharper, ends up being rather blunt. The next time a gorgeous twentysomething walks down the Croisette, maybe we can all feel a little better about ourselves. Sure, it would be nice to have what they have, but at what cost?

 

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