A.V. Opinions: The Substance and the curse of art house logic
The Substance had all the makings of a body horror classic except for one glaring issue: its plot operates on what can only be described as art house logic, where narrative coherence takes a backseat to abstract themes. At the center of it all is poor Elisabeth, played by Demi Moore, a character who gains absolutely nothing from the central premise.
In The Substance, Elisabeth undergoes a bizarre process that births a new version of herself. The movie tells us that these two people are one and the same. However, they clearly don’t share much at all. Once Elisabeth splits into two bodies, neither she nor her counterpart Sue experience anything together. Elisabeth does not live as Sue. She does not feel Sue’s victories, pleasures, or newfound freedom. Meanwhile, Sue is unburdened by Elisabeth’s degrading body and misery. They are separate, disconnected entities.
The big problem for me came when it was revealed that Elisabeth could stop the process at any time. The mechanics are simple: when one is awake, the other is in a hibernation healing state. But when Sue overstays her “turn,” Elisabeth begins to age rapidly and her health declines. This happens multiple times. So why wouldn’t Elisabeth end the process? Every time she wakes up, she is closer to death. What does she gain from this? Why suffer so Sue can live her life while she rots away? The movie gives us no answer. Elisabeth’s choice makes no sense. There is no incentive for her to continue. She gets no peace, no happiness, and no assurance that Sue will carry on her legacy. It is like watching someone willingly step into quicksand for no reason other than symbolism. If the filmmakers wanted to explore themes of self-destruction, they needed to give Elisabeth a reason to continue the process.
And then there is the final fight between Elisabeth and Sue, where I’m just thinking, WTF. Elisabeth is old, weak, and fragile, yet she fights her way through the third act like a decrepit wind-up toy. Realistically, she should be dead within thirty seconds of going toe to toe with Sue. A stiff breeze or a loose fart would knock her over and shatter her like glass. But somehow, she keeps fighting. Watching her get kicked around like a human piñata is almost comical. You cannot help but ask, “How is she still alive?” This is not tension. It is unintentional absurdity.
To top it off, the movie is way too long. By the time the third act arrives, The Substance has already worn out its welcome. That is not to say there are no flashes of brilliance. Some bizarre and visually stunning moments in the final stretch make for a wild ride, but it does not save the film. It all circles back to that art house logic. The filmmakers tried to be profound but forgot to inject enough story to justify it. Kudos to them for attempting something unique, but this one needed more time in the oven. With a little more focus on narrative and stakes, The Substance could have been great. Instead, it is a film where the protagonist gains nothing, learns nothing, and leaves the audience wondering what they just watched. The movie leans so heavily on ambiguity and symbolism that it collapses under its own weight.
If you love movies that demand you find the meaning while offering little to work with, give The Substance a shot. If you are looking for a story where characters’ actions make sense, you might want to look elsewhere. There are plenty of great art house movies that are thought-provoking, beautiful, and memorable. But a little art house goes a long way, and The Substance tries way too hard. But at least the third act is bonkers. It’s almost worth the price of admission.
—Brad McBoom