Body horror films typically strike their chord amongst gore fanatics, horror cinephiles and general movie masochists. So it’s particularly interesting that a movie that critics are calling one of the “most disgusting” and “uncomfortable” films of the year is also one of the best analyses of beauty’s cruel rule in modern society.
The Substance sees its main character, Elisabeth Sparkle, played by Demi Moore, pushed to grotesque extremes to appear younger so she can keep her public-facing TV job, which she was quickly aging out of. Eventually, she takes a substance that lets her intermittently switch places with a younger version of herself. Chaos ensues, and things get grosser than gross as both versions of herself fight for dominance.
But beyond being a delectably horrific display of the gory wonders of the BodyFX world, the movie etailed the vast intricacies of our “anti-aging” culture and our obsession with finding the fountain of youth. Now IRL, we may not be taking mystery cell-replicating substances, but Botox, fillers and blepharoplasties and their propensity for deformity over time paint an identical portrait to what we see in the film.
Now, as studies about the prolonged effects of migrated filler and similar procedures unfurl, we’re able to see more clearly the double-edged sword that comes with chasing the waterfall of endless youth. People love extreme plastic surgery when it “works,” but as soon as women get plastic surgery too close to the sun, they become a catcher’s mitt for disparaging fast ball attacks on their appearance. It’s a catch-22 and an expensive one at that.
This is made dually fascinating when we factor in the Black collective’s pride and borderline obsession with the notion that “Black don’t crack,” which on its face seems like a harmless quip about the genetic fortitude bestowed upon Black people. But as we’ve seen with the back-and-forth discourse online where Black people in their 30s were posting about how young they look compared to Gen-Z and subsequently getting “humbled” by the internet. This isn’t about who does or doesn’t look like whatever age. It’s about the asinine virtue we’ve assigned to appearing youthful while simultaneously acting like we’re above these age-appearance-related woes.
It presents an unquenchable dichotomy that leaves many Black people navigating the world of beauty procedures in secret, a notoriously dangerous approach to the aesthetic industry. Shame and judgment are the last things we need while navigating the fickle and serpentine world of cosmetic procedures whether you’re for or against them.
