and what would you do for eternal youth?
how The Substance made me rethink my quarter-life crisis.
Beware: I explore the plot of The Substance in depth after the third paragraph — if you haven’t seen it and don’t mind spoilers feel free to read! If you don’t want to know what happens before seeing it, you are welcome to come by later.
The world often makes us feel disposable. Our childhood goes by while we are discreetly prepared for the routine of adulthood, only without some of the responsibilities that would eventually drown us. We admire the adults who surround us — they know and have everything: freedom, happiness, beauty, and a complete understanding of the world. They seem completely invincible, or at least, that’s how I used to feel.
Eventually, we start to grow old and lose the rose-colored glasses we wore during our childhood and adolescence. For me, this specifically began once I realized I was entering my mid-twenties. I would watch Golden Girls but would feel an immense sense of dread and a hyper-awareness for my inevitable death. Memories from the time I visited a nursing home were projected inside my brain. I remembered myself walking through the large, spacious hallway. A door was halfway open, and I could see a small TV and the end of a bed. A black-and-white film was playing, and two frail, pale feet rested over the white sheets. I could taste a bittersweet future, distant yet so close.
Now, I recently turned twenty-five. The moment people describe as the gate to a quarter-life crisis. Nonetheless, it isn’t true in my case, since I arrived at it as soon as I turned twenty-four and could only think about how close twenty-five was. I sat in silence and realized how I lacked the sense of power I used to see in other adults. Is it me, is it the economy, is it the lies society has given us? I naturally inherited some of the characteristics an adult has, only that the most freeing ones turned out to be harder to acquire — leaving me in a freeing yet suffocating cloud of possibilities.
These feelings were the last thing I expected to navigate as I watched The Substance by Coralie Fargeat. We see the beautiful Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) who lives her days as a renowned star, or well, a decaying star through the eyes of a money-hungry, misogynistic executive who eats shrimp like a savage. She seems to have everything she ever dreamed of. Fame. Success. Beauty. But, it turns out it’s not enough for her.
Her life seems to be what many aspire to, and she even is admired by many people. Nonetheless, her youth starts turning into a distant memory - and instead of embracing a spotlightless time of rest, she dwells on this loss. And it’s that she doesn’t identify all of these things as her success, but instead, it was the validation that came with them. The praise she received during her youth is tied to her self-esteem, and aging meant this beauty will fade. The immense picture of herself framed in the middle of her living room is a testament to this. In many cases, this would only seem self-centered, but here it shows how her beauty and youth are the subject of her pride.
This dissatisfaction makes her try the substance. It’s the perfect solution to her problems. She gives birth in the most grotesque manner to Sue (Margaret Qualley), a duplicate of herself but better. She is young, and beautiful, with a Barbie-like body and insane strength. It’s an agreement that seems to be both miraculous and sinful and must be followed religiously by both parties. It’s almost dreamlike, Elisabeth can hide her true, aging self while reliving the success of her youth.
Nonetheless, I genuinely did not see this arrangement as the redemption she desired. For seven days, she lived this glamorous life where she received constant and constant praise. But when she came back to who she truly was, she was miserable and weak, and her hatred for herself just heightened. We see her being tormented by the things she cannot truly be. Her red lipstick smeared across her face in a fit of rage was painful to watch, similar to a child who is going through puberty and hates every part of themselves. Yet, to ourselves, she looks almost perfect and deserving of love and respect.
But this is the thing, she sees Sue as the epitome of perfection. But she is far from perfect and also embodies the lack of respect and consideration that drove Elisabeth to try the substance. It gets to a point where everyone around Elisabeth starts seeing her as worthless, from the executive to the man who would be head-over-heels for Sue yet had no problem yelling at Elisabeth in the middle of the street. Sue might be an escape from her real life, but she is also a reminder of a time that she won’t be truly able to relive.
This is just a slice of a story that is filled with so much commentary that hides within both the body horror and behavior differences between the main characters. Elisabeth was once praised and loved, yet set aside once she began to get older. The existence of Sue further proves to Elisabeth that she is worthless in the eyes of her world. Sue did not bring her a taste of her youth, if anything, she stole away the decades of youth Elisabeth still had left in her. I don’t think Elisabeth ever realizes this, at least not until it’s too late. Even by the end, when the substance is used again, bringing a strange creature with multiple eyes, sporadic teeth, and a lonely strand of hair, this creation feels comfortable going into the outside world. Maybe, she thinks this creature will be worthy to the eyes of others since it’s substance-approved?
The highlights on the power of being young and the terror of growing old made me realize that maybe I should not be worrying that much. Maybe we fall into these dilemmas so early on because subconsciously we are used to seeing how once we don’t fit a specific standard, we are pushed aside. I wondered why Elisabeth could not enjoy a life free from external validation, but I see she was blinded by a misogynistic and detrimental society (especially since the executives who pushed her out did not seem to be getting any younger). We see how her Hollywood star deteriorates and her soul disappears with it. But the reality is that the death of her conventional stardom did not have to be the death of her.