The Substance

Hi,

This is part of my ongoing Fright Fest 2026 series. You can find all my previous reviews here and the full list of upcoming films here. A reminder that I am discussing spoilers, but I won't be doing in-depth plot recaps. I'll mention story beats when necessary to make a point, but mostly I'll assume you've already seen the film. (Basically the opposite of a traditional review.)

• Guys hear me out I think maybe we should regulate the substance.
• It's interesting to me that, in a film about the relentless pursuit of idealized images of youth and beauty, there's no mention of the internet. In some ways, The Substance is about the endless reproduction and editing of our selves that social platforms enable. But it explores this dynamic through distinctly 20th century mediums: Movie stardom, network television, and — not to be forgotten — good old fashioned billboards. This isn't a critique; I actually think it's a good decision. It helps the film function more like a fable, albeit one with clear relevance to the current moment.
• There is a lot of inventive body horror here: Elisabeth literally splitting open so Sue can emerge from her back. The slow, gruesome transformation of Elisabeth's body as Sue drains her spinal fluid like a vampire. But the thing that really got to me — on a visceral level — was when Sue pulled out her own teeth and peeled off her own fingernail. (I'm shuddering again writing that sentence.) I think there's something about the proximity to realism that makes this moment unbearable. It feels like something that could actually happen to my body, unlike the prospect of a new self using my spine as a birth canal.
• I'm glad I got to see this in a theater for this exact reason. Cinematic disgust is much more bearable when it's a communal experience. I prefer to hear a bunch of other people exclaiming, gagging and squirming in their seats along with me.

• Speaking of disgust, this is the most revolting a movie has ever sounded. Every squelch of Dennis Quaid eating shrimp is excruciating. The crack of Demi Moore's desiccated gray kneecap broke something deep within my soul. I wish I could evaluate The Substance based on aural horror alone because I would run through the streets praising it. Unfortunately I can't because there were things I didn't love. For example:
• If you like cinema that holds your hand, doesn't trust you to remember things that happened 15 minutes ago, and tries to foreclose any interpretations apart from those chosen by the filmmakers, then The Substance is for you! I know that sounds harsh. But I can't tell you how many times the film inserts needless flashbacks, unnecessary voiceovers, and gratuitous callbacks to how the substance works, including incessant reminders of the central rule, delivered again and again through dialogue and massive on-screen text, that Sue and Elisabeth are actually one person. (“Remember you are one.”) Unfortunately this is a film that, for all its willingness to blast you in the face with maximalist body horror, is really really really worried that its audience isn't smart or attentive. How can a film be confident enough to show us an image of Margaret Qualley pulling a greasy drumstick out through her navel — but simultaneously so unsure of itself that it has Elisabeth interrupt one of the film's climatic moments to explain exactly why she's not going to kill her double? Unforgivable.
• I was also unsettled by the extent to which the film's horror in the final act relies on images of a distorted, grotesque female body. I fully understand that one of the goals is to critique the ugly intersection of ageism and misogyny. The true "monsters" of the film are clearly the male TV executives who exploit Elisabeth and Sue, the anonymous man (or men) responsible for distributing the substance, and the structures of celebrity that objectify Elisabeth's body and destroy her capacity to actually care for herself. And yet the film still deploys one of the oldest tropes in horror — the monstrous old woman. Is that actually fine given the context? Was this an example of good discomfort? Is the film chiding me for recoiling because of my own internalized beauty standards? Or is this an example of The Substance inadvertently reproducing the very thing it wishes to critique? I'm really not sure. (If you've seen it and have thoughts, weigh in.)
• Fright level: 3/10
• Enjoyment level: 5/10
• Revulsion level: 8/10

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