The Substance: the most WTF movie of the year.

It is clear now: The Substance is, without a doubt, the most WTF movie of 2024.

The term “WTF” carries a range of emotions. It can be used either positively or negatively, but most of the time, it expresses a sense of disbelief and confusion: What the f**k did I just witness?

That’s precisely the feeling The Substance evokes for most viewers. It is cheap, crude, straightforward, violent, and loud. It aims to throw its dissatisfaction and anger towards reality right in your face. You might love or hate it for that, but the one thing you can’t do is be indifferent to it.

The Substance tells the story of an anti-aging experiment spiraling out of control. Elizabeth (Demi Moore), a former actress turned aerobics show host, finds her career fading. Even her control over the fitness program is slipping away. Desperate to regain her youth and status, she turns to a miracle drug. By chance, she learns about a mysterious substance simply called "The Substance." After a brief hesitation, she orders the drug, which splits her into a younger, more beautiful version of herself, Sue (Margaret Qualley). The two of them must switch roles every seven days to keep their symbiotic existence, but as Sue’s insatiable desires grow, their balance starts to falter: Elizabeth ages rapidly, and Sue loses the life-sustaining energy from her host, leading everything to collapse…

We can’t say The Substance is highly original because it borrows heavily from classic films. The hallways leading to the stage remind us of The Shining’s hotel corridors; the climax undeniably references Carrie; the white and black spaces Elizabeth and Sue often inhabit draw on the visual language of Under the Skin; and the close-ups of their dilated pupils after each injection are a nod to Requiem for a Dream. These are just a few examples of its “homages.”

The core concept of the film isn’t new, either. The idea of an actress’s desire to stay young leading to her downfall was explored in the 1988 B-horror movie The Rejuvenator. The idea of a second life also echoes the 1966 classic sci-fi thriller Seconds, where the male protagonist also regains youth through science and medicine, only to discover that this Faustian bargain brings ruin rather than redemption.

Sociologically and philosophically speaking, The Substance doesn’t offer anything new, nor does it seem interested in saying anything significant. Its exploration of Faustian themes stays at the surface, while its critique of beauty culture, reflection on the entertainment machine, and criticism of patriarchy are equally superficial. The entertainment machine is monotonously symbolized by spotlights, camera lenses, and street signs, repeated endlessly to the point of exhaustion. The male figures who oppress, harass, and exploit women are similarly one-dimensional. Whether it’s Dennis Quaid’s sleazy agent or the sleazy neighbor of Elizabeth and Sue, there’s no real difference between them. Their disgusting, slimy personas are all surface-level, lacking depth, and the actors’ performances are equally over-the-top.

So, are there any redeeming qualities to The Substance after all these flaws?

Of course. Director Coralie Fargeat, despite her lack of nuance and ability to construct a complex narrative, approaches her storytelling with relentless, reckless energy. Her film is full of raw intensity. The Substance is like the grotesque, bloated, but determined female monster that appears at the film’s end—lacking brains but still leaving a powerful impression with nothing more than adrenaline and hormones.

At its core, The Substance remains a feminist film rejecting the male gaze. The monster serves both as revenge against the entertainment machine and beauty culture and as a parody of male desire: since men joke about how "it would be better if her face had breasts instead of a nose," the monster fulfills that vision. Since men think "good girls should always be smiling," the monster obliges with a grotesque, toothless, blood-soaked grin. Are you still pleased now?

In terms of its approach, The Substance shares similarities with recent feminist hits Barbie and Titane. We could place it somewhere between the two. Like Barbie, The Substance creates a highly symbolic fictional world that condenses the absurdities of a male-dominated consumer and entertainment culture, pushing the fake plastic aesthetic to its limits with powerful sensory effects.

And like Titane, The Substance uses the conventions of the "body horror" subgenre to center the female protagonist’s pain and transformation. Female experiences of pregnancy, abortion, childbirth, vomiting, and bodily mutation are shown repeatedly on screen, with the imagery acting as a conduit between the protagonist’s body and the audience’s, particularly evoking a deep sense of empathy from female viewers.

However, compared to the more straightforward messages of Barbie and Titane, The Substance’s expression is more ambiguous. While Barbie gently critiques patriarchal oppression and misunderstanding of women, and Titane proposes the possibility of women evolving beyond societal norms into cybernetic beings, The Substance feels more like it’s doubly punishing its female protagonists, further victimizing them in a competitive world shaped by beauty culture. No wonder media and audiences have been so divided over the film—whether it’s a condemnation of the system exploiting women or a further exploitation disguised as condemnation remains up for debate.

Ultimately, The Substance never attempts to create a true alliance of shared consciousness and interest between Elizabeth and Sue. Their lives and vitality are zero-sum, yet they never share wisdom, sensitivity, or life experiences that could help them navigate this unjust world together. If this had been improved, The Substance could have been a gentler, more complete film.