As this year’s film festival circuit winds down and awards season commences, we seem to already be receiving 2024’s equivalent of Paul Haggis’ Crash (2004) and Peter Farrelly’s Green Book (2018). It’s a movie that intends to be morally progressive but is too flawed and ignorant to actually make a difference.

When Jacques Audiard’s Emilia Pérez made a splash at Cannes, Telluride and Toronto this past year, many critics and pundits predicted Zoe Saldaña, Karla Sofía Gascón and even Selena Gomez might get Oscar nominations. But as the picture hits select theaters and streaming this month, movie fans have been roasting the film.

This is a great cast directed by the same filmmaker of acclaimed dramas like A Prophet (2009), Rust and Bone (2012) and Dheepan (2015). What went wrong?

In present day Mexico City, Rita Mora (Saldaña) is a struggling lawyer who has to take whichever clients she can get, even if it means going against her own beliefs. After she begrudgingly helps a murderer get off the hook, she receives a secret offer from a local cartel leader, Juan De Monte (Gascón), to help find him a surgeon so he can fulfill his desire to transition into a woman and leave behind his kingpin reputation.

After succeeding at his offer, Rita takes her large payment to expand her law career and Juan begins going by ‘Emilia Pérez.’ When the two bump into each other four years later while Rita is living in London, she discovers Emilia wants to reconnect with her kids from her estranged wife, Jessi (Gomez).

Édgar Ramírez appears as Jessi’s lover after Juan/Emilia leaves the family to start a new life. Emilia Pérez is loosely based off Boris Razon’s 2018 novel Écoute as well as an expansion of Audiard’s own 2021 opera also titled Emilia Pérez. While the new foreign film has all the potentialwith the talented actors and flashy visuals, the story and character arcs are just too convoluted to naturally come together.

A big problem is that — besides the dialogue being primarily Spanish, the cast being mostly Hispanic, and Gascón being trans — no one behind the scenes is actually Latino or a part of the LGBTQ community. This is a CIS and French-directed, written and produced feature and it shows.

Obviously artists are allowed to set their work outside of their own home or orientation, but the problem here is that it’s just really obvious the creators don’t have any actual experience or association with either representation here. On top of all this, Emilia Pérez is — like Todd Phillips’ Joker: Folie à Deux — a musical made by people who clearly aren’t trained in that area.

Watching the musical numbers actually makes us wish Emilia Pérez was either a straight melodrama or a full-on opera like Audiard initially intended. The songs are strangely short and end abruptly, which makes the sequences feel amateurish.

Although Gascón and Gomez are fine, the real acting standout holding the whole film together is Saldaña. After spending over a decade in extensive costumes and make-up for Marvel, Avatar and Star Trek, it’s great to see her dramatic range again, as well as her gifted dancing, since she was originally a ballerina before switching to cinema. It’s also a nice rarity to hear her speak fluent Spanish.

It’s too bad the material doesn’t always match the level of the performances. Ultimately, Emilia Pérez is an imperfect effort that means well, but ends up feeling like Chris Columbus’ Mrs. Doubtfire (1993) meets telenovelas.

The Substance, 2024.

Written and Directed by Coralie Fargeat.
Starring Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid, Gore Abrams, Hugo Diego Garcia, Olivier Raynal, Tiffany Hofstetter, Tom Morton, Jiselle Burkhalter, Axel Baille, Oscar Lesage, Matthew Géczy, Philip Schurer, Daniel Knight, Namory Bakayoko, and Bill Bentley.

SYNOPSIS:

A fading celebrity decides to use a black-market drug, a cell-replicating substance that temporarily creates a younger, better version of herself.

A good while after things have disastrously spiraled out of control between forgotten Hollywood star Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) and her younger, prettier, popular clone Sue (Margaret Qualley), in which they each take turns living seven days at a time (such are the rules of the titular black-market drug), the former has reached her mental breaking point for a variety of reasons, but chooses to continue the experiment while uttering to that younger self the hauntingly depressing and sad-but-true words (depending on how cynical you are about society) “you’re the only part of me that people love.”

Steering clear of the spoilers that have brought viewers to this point in writer/director Coralie Fargeat’s bonkers body horror The Substance, that line also feels like the moment where this already imaginatively demented cautionary tale grabs hold of all themes played with and stirs them into a sustained explosion of stunningly grotesque imagery and astonishing prosthetics, following the story to its natural conclusion while keeping one simultaneously asking themselves what the hell they are looking at, and what the hell they could be looking at next.

That’s not to say anyone behind or in front of the camera was playing around before that point, but this film gradually builds to a series of events so feverishly insane it transcends the movie into something masterfully unhinged of the highest order. It is nutty, bloody, and howlingly funny with, well, substance, going where few filmmakers and actors would ever dare go.

However, Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley go there with fearlessly. As mentioned, the former is Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-beloved actress with her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, a star people were once enthusiastically visiting. After some seamless transitions of seasons and time, it is now cracked, with those who cross it either unaware of who she is or jogging their memories about what she has been in. No, the metaphor is not subtle, and that’s also not the only one. That’s also the point, as anyone can get away with a lack of subtlety so long as the messages are driven home with relentless force and courageous creativity.

Currently, she hosts an exercise show for middle-aged women, wishing she could go back to the days of her youthful beauty and star power. No one will be necessarily surprised to hear that Hollywood doesn’t exactly have the best track record with women over the past several decades, swallowing up women and disposing of them when they have outlived their usefulness to the industry, aka beauty. Dennis Quaid’s talent manager, Harvey, also couldn’t make it any more clear that he wants to revamp the show with sexualized dancing and is looking for someone young and pretty. Speaking of Harvey, he isn’t only depicted as externally gross but disgusting all around as the queasy cinematography lingers on his cruel face and harsh outbursts at tilted angles or sometimes focuses on the inside of his mouth, shredding apart shrimp with his teeth just like the women he uses and discards over time.

Through a bizarre set of circumstances, Elisabeth comes into a potential solution, being made aware of a secretive black-market drug called The Substance, first seen tested on an egg with a duplicate emerging from the side. Imagine that replicated with actual human beings, and you now have a small fragment of how graphic and gory the film’s setup is alone. Out comes Sue (Margaret Qualley), alongside a handful of rules that mainly involve injecting serums into the other unconscious body to maintain stability. Refusals to stick by these rules and the aforementioned 7-day request result in gnarly body horror, everything involving blood to decay to mutation.

In contrast to Elisabeth, mentally hard on her middle-aged body, Sue is confident, repeatedly seen idolizing herself, whether it be fondling her breasts, admiring her buttocks, and almost always wearing crop tops and underwear around the high-rise suite. Unsurprisingly, much of this positivity transitions into self-absorbed vanity, which the likes of Harvey propagate. Elisabeth gets what she wishes for; a way to experience the rise of fame again vicariously, but at the cost of creating a monster she’s unsure if she wants to destroy. Nevertheless, there are consequences on both ends, as the rules state that what happens to one body by neglecting the rules can’t be undone. In other words, it’s beauty as a drug to overdose on.

Also noteworthy is that men suddenly have a drastic change in attitude toward Sue (assuming that someone new has moved into the building), practically foaming at the mouth to get some action with her. Meanwhile, even with her dwindling fame, most people treat Elisabeth like an object in the way of their day. Again, this is also a darkly comedic film and Coralie Fargeat knows exactly the right time to give these men the scare of their lives. Then again, the whole movie could be attributed as one sick and twisted joke about women trying to meet up to the unreasonable beauty standards expected by men in power.

The slow unravelling snowballs into something extreme: an audiovisual annihilation of the senses that appropriately distorts sound and hypnotic camera movements. For an hour, Coralie Fargeat wears her influences on her sleeves and keeps one-upping herself in outrageous body horror and a twisted sense of humor. The phenomenal performances from Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley also ground The Substance in inevitable tragedy and internalized pain, proving that this is more than shock and thrills. It is diabolically exceptional, in a highwire freakout class of its own, and unforgettable, searing every nasty image into the mind. It is rare to be this mortified and laugh this much in awe while simultaneously feeling something human. 

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist

A few months ago, the Compton rapper Siete7x was up in the Bay Area shooting a music video. Around 4 a.m., he got a call from mutual friend of Kendrick Lamar’s who told Siete to drop whatever he was doing and get to Conway Studios in Los Angeles. Now.

“He was like ‘Kendrick wants you to pull up.’ At first I didn’t believe him,” Siete said. “But me and my manager, we got in the car and drove six hours right back to L.A.”

That night drive turned into a session that got Siete lines on “dodger blue,” a soulful hometown-pride anthem and a local favorite on Lamar’s surprise-release “GNX.”

That album was a rich text of West Coast hip-hop history and invention, imbued with the venom of his recent feud with Drake. In just a week, it’s spun off singles like “squabble up” and “tv off” that have redefined the year in rap, just in time for Lamar’s Super Bowl appearance next year.

But “GNX” is full of cameos from emerging SoCal acts, who Lamar sees as crucial voices right now. The cast of guests — hailing from Compton to Baldwin Park and beyond — proves his ear is still close to the ground. For those local artists that got sudden shine from it, “GNX” feels like a piece of history — and a chance to show what they’re capable of.

“I feel like this album will be a classic for a new generation,” Siete said. “Kendrick gave me a shot. Now I’m even more motivated to show the world what I can really do.”

In the hours after “GNX” dropped last week, fans combed through the lyrics for new twists in the Drake war, and parsed its samples of Tupac Shakur, Luther Vandross and SWV.

While SZA and saxophonist Kamasi Washington are the only cameos on “GNX” that pop music fans are likely to recognize, the album is a comprehensive roster of SoCal scene-beloved veterans like Wallie the Sensei, AzChike and Hitta J3, and fast-rising local acts like Dody6 and YoungThreat.

When Lamar insists on “dodger blue” that you can’t “say you hate L.A. when you don’t travel past the 10,” these are the artists you’re missing if you don’t venture down.

“GNX” kicks off with evocative mariachi vocals from singer Deyra Barerra, whom Lamar discovered when she performed at Dodger Stadium. But he also nodded towards the city’s Latino rap scene, with guest bars from Maywood’s Peysoh on the album’s title track.

When Peysoh got the call, he said “I was chilling at my house, half asleep, when [Lamar] threw us on a FaceTime and was like ‘I need you later today.’ Even after the surprise release of the album, Peysoh said he was still a little dazed from the experience. Earlier this year, he’d finished a three-year stint in jail. To go from that to recording on a Kendrick album was head-spinning. “I’d been counted out and blackballed, and now it’s happening just like I told y’all,” Peysoh said.

Rapper Peysoh and Kendrick Lamar recording for Lamar’s album “GNX.”

(EMPIRE)

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Peysoh, known for the noirish viral hit “6 Block,” has a distinct Chicano tang to his voice, unmistakable in any mix. When Peysoh got to the studio, Kendrick played the tricky, technically challenging beat that became “gnx.” Peysoh got the first verse, and the two swapped lines in the chorus. “Lеt ‘em claim it, we the ones who really pop, bro,” he raps. “Opps know, let ‘em piss him off and it’s a flop show.”

“It’s so dope that he embraced the culture and did right by us,” Peysoh said. “There’s a lot of controversy with Mexican rap, but he knows what he wants and he had a blueprint. He’s a legend and I’m so grateful for the chance he gave to me to prove my keep.”

For the younger acts he called into the studio, “GNX” was a rare glimpse behind the curtain to see how Lamar works. Few rappers get to write alongside a Pulitzer Prize-winning lyricist.

“I didn’t know what I signed on for,” Siete said. “It was a real different process for how to record, definitely leveled up from what I’m used to. I had to record certain bars five times to have different options in how I’m coming in with my energy, different cadences that were out of my element to make it hit better.”

“Kendrick came with crazy ideas,” Siete added. “You’ve just got to be a student sometimes.”

Even for the artists with very brief cameos, simply getting your name in the credits of a Lamar album is a life-altering vouch.

Lefty Gunplay, a relentless MC from the atypical rap neighborhood of Baldwin Park, has perhaps the shortest cameo on the record — repeating a four-word outro on the smash hit “tv off” in his trademark rasp.

While the song’s memes were all about screaming “MUSTAAAARD,” listeners will leave the track wondering about the guy taunting “Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious.”

“Four words was all it took to have the best song,” he laughed. “All the other artists Kendrick features are real street dudes, and I’m so glad I got to be a part of that class. He sees something in us — he ran the play and gave me the alleyoop.”

Lefty Gunplay served nine years in Pelican Bay State Penitentiary, released just last year. For the guests whose careers got a shock of new fame on “GNX,” they’re hitting the pavement to make the most of it.

Many said they recorded more music with Kendrick beyond what appears on “GNX,” and while nobody would speak about their plans for it, it’s clear that Lamar has much more in the tank.

In the weeks to come, Peysoh has a gig at the Teragram Ballroom on Sunday, likely be mobbed by new fans from “GNX.” Siete7x has a new album, “Stucc in the Hole,” out Dec. 6. And in a masterstroke of lucky timing, Lefty Gunplay dropped his new album, “Most Valuable Gangbanger,” the same day the “GNX” landed.

“It’s gonna open every door for me. I know I’m not the best lyrically yet, but every day I’m getting better and I’ve got to capitalize on this moment,” Lefty Gunplay said. He’s still getting used to the idea that he’s already part of L.A. rap history.

“It still hasn’t hit me yet,” he laughed. “I’m on a Kendrick album. What a trip.”