Movie Reviews
'The Substance' review: Pretty hurts – InBetweenDrafts
Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance takes a gross, gruesome bite out of modern beauty standards in outstanding fashion.
“Is she pretty on the inside?/Is she pretty from the back?”
That line in Hole’s “Pretty on the Inside” shows the viewpoint of a sex worker, screaming bloody murder at how a woman’s body can be seen as a means to an end. It’s most definitely a criticism, but it’s a bit alarming how many men have used that mantra at face value without looking deeper into how much it lessens a woman’s worth. There have always been men leering at attractive women and dismissing anyone else that doesn’t meet their beauty standards (or sexual standards, if you think harder about it). The snowball effect that creates, from sadness to anger to self-loathing to destruction, is more common than you think. How much is one willing to destroy themselves to be “better?”
That’s the main query of The Substance, or rather the movie’s main character: Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore). She’s living in the gorgeous glow of Hollywood while smiling through daytime TV. That smile starts to crack when her talent agent (Dennis Quaid) says she’s outlived her usefulness now that she’s the shocking, appalling age of *checks notes* 50. Then a mysterious figure gives her the info on something called “The Substance,” which will supposedly bring about a whole new version of Elisabeth. That version calls herself Sue (Margaret Qualley) and her sparkling, 20-something figure is the apple of everyone’s eye. But there must be a balance: seven days of Elisabeth for seven days of Sue. Can Elisabeth live with herself much longer? Or is Sue about to lose control of everything?
Up close and personal.
You will not be able to look away from The Substance. That’s mostly due to writer/director Coralie Fargeat (Revenge) forcing the camera right into the faces and figures of her actors. The amount of intense close-ups stuffed into the movie’s 141 minutes is so unsettling that even M. Night Shyamalan would tell the camera to back away slowly. And yet, the movie is both hard to look at and a visual splendor thanks to the beaming day-glow cinematography from Benjamin Kracun (Promising Young Woman). There’s a druggy haze pumped into its imagery: one minute it has the visual aura of being on ecstasy with hot pinks and lens flares from stage lights, the next minute it harshly cuts between stilted shots of characters and warped images of Hollywood glamor. It’s like if someone spliced a Sabrina Carpenter video into Requiem for a Dream.
And those aren’t the only influences on display, nor are they the most surprising. There are hints of Stanley Kubrick’s fears of lavish society destroying the soul, David Cronenberg’s obsession with the ways of the flesh, and even a scooping of James Gunn’s early days of B-movie body horror. What Fargeat brings to the table is the trick of pleasure to sell the sadness underneath. Sure there are glamorous shots of Elisabeth’s swanky pad and close-ups of Sue’s *ahem* flexible workout video (titled “Pump It Up,” and you’ll see why), but the brokenness of both heroines keeps crashing through the beauty. Even as the movie’s final act shifts into wickedly-enjoyable lunacy, Fargeat still does exceptional work balancing that with the horrors of sexism and beauty standards.
There could be accusations that all the glitz and goop are window dressing for a very basic message underneath it all. Subtlety is not in the wheelhouse of The Substance, but it doesn’t need to be. A story with themes tied to how someone views themselves would do well to have those themes put right in front of an audience’s faces. They’re looking at their flaws and vanities almost everyday, might as well make them confront the errors of public perception by holding up a mirror. Compare it to Jane Schoenbrun’s equally outstanding I Saw the TV Glow, which balanced the hidden horrors of suburban life with the revelations in coming-of-age through pop culture. While Schoenbrun’s feature has more of a slow-burn simmer and The Substance keeps thrusting itself in your face, both are effective at using gorgeous cinematic imagery to hammer home a deeper message about the self.
Smile like you mean it.

Despite the maximal imagery on display in The Substance, the cast is actually quite minimal. Not to say that they don’t thrust themselves into every scene, far from it. Especially with Demi Moore, who very wisely uses her sharp facial features and piercing stare to show one of the most glorious human breakdowns in recent movie history. The horror and shame in her eyes in unrelenting, not just on the cruel world around her but also on her own reflection. Every time she looks into the mirror, it’s as if she’s moments away from reaching into the glass and strangling herself. Whether she’s silently self-loathing or screaming in rage, Moore goes all-in and delivers. Not only a career-best for Moore, but one of the year’s flat-out best performances.
Speaking of going all-in, there’s Dennis Quaid. For someone who just rolled-out a passion project about his favorite president (and was met with derision), it’s fascinating to see him chew every bit of scenery in the room any time he’s on screen. Perhaps he had to match the attire given to him: overly-patterned suit jackets, hair so coiffed it’s almost frozen, and just a little too much bronzer. And then that sharp-toothed smile, with teeth turning yellow from all the cigarettes he sucks and the butter he lathers on shrimp. It’s a true devil incarnate presence and Quaid looks like he’s having a little too much fun in the role.
As for Margaret Qualley, it speaks to how strong the movie is that she’s the weak link of the three, but still rises to the movie’s occasion. Proving to be a true chameleon in her career, Qualley embraces the hollow beauty of Sue before succumbing to the shock of the movie’s grand finale. It’s as if she’s doing a riff on the down-to-earth Hollywood newcomer she’s likely been pegged as before. The movie ultimately belongs to Moore, but Qualley is exceptional at handling the garish nightmare.
The bottom line.
It’s been a while since a movie has combined lurid spectacle with scathing commentary with such precision. The Substance is near-perfect for not pulling its punches in terms of body horror while also kicking beauty standards in the balls. Its imagery and effects are over-the-top, but there’s a genuine craft in making sure those elements are consistent and confrontational. In an era where Hollywood wants to churn-out overdue sequels and IP rehashes for easily-disposable consumption, The Substance demands that you pay attention. Not only are you not allowed to look away, you have to look closer.
The Substance is now playing in select theaters. You can watch the trailer here.
Photos courtesy of Mubi. You can ready more reviews by Jon Winkler here.
REVIEW RATING
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The Substance – 9/10
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Movie Reviews
Second Sight’s Insomnia 4K UHD Review: The Film That Beat Nolan to It
I watched Christopher Nolan’s Insomnia before I watched the original. I was in my early twenties. I thought the film was fine and I moved on. It took me until Second Sight dropped this 4K edition to find out what fine had been covering up for twenty four years. I feel pretty bad about that. Not bad enough to not tell you to skip Nolan and start here, but bad.
Erik Skjoldbjærg’s 1997 original is a Norwegian thriller about a Swedish detective named Jonas Engström who goes to Tromsø to investigate a teenage girl’s murder and instead dismantles himself in daylight. Stellan Skarsgård plays Jonas. He is not a good man doing a bad thing. He is a man who was already doing bad things who then does a worse one, and the film is about watching him hold that together under a sun that will not go down.
The Sun Is the Monster Here
Skjoldbjærg called it “a reversed film noir with light instead of darkness as its dramatic force,” and that is exactly right, and also a polite way of saying the Arctic summer is doing something genuinely horrible to this movie. Tromsø in June means no night. No dark corner. No 3am where you can tell yourself it was a dream.
Cinematographer Erling Thurmann-Andersen shoots the whole thing overexposed and grey, and in the new 4K restoration that greyness lands like a fist. Every interior feels too bright. Every window is a problem. Jonas cannot sleep, cannot hide, cannot find a single hour that looks different from the one before it. That is the film’s horror, and it is more effective than it has any right to be.
What Skarsgård Actually Does

The performance does not announce itself. That is the whole thing. Skarsgård plays Jonas going still when he should flinch, pausing a half-beat too long before answering simple questions, watching every room he enters with the focus of a man who needs to know who in it already knows. He is calculating. He is also dissolving.
Roger Ebert compared the film to Dostoevsky when it opened stateside in 1998. The Crime and Punishment parallel is real, with one difference, Raskolnikov is tormented almost immediately. Jonas keeps choosing not to be. That is the colder read and the better film.
What Nolan Did With It

The 2002 remake moved everything to Alaska, added about 20 minutes, and made the detective a fundamentally decent man destroyed by circumstance. Al Pacino does the thing Pacino does. Robin Williams is genuinely unsettling in a way the film earns. Hilary Swank does more with her role than the script deserves. It is a competent Hollywood thriller and I have not thought about it since I watched it.
The key structural difference, in Nolan’s version, the detective dies. Some weight lifted. In the original, Jonas lives. Goes home. Carries it. That is the correct ending and the more disturbing one, and I will not call it a spoiler because you needed to know.
About This Release

Second Sight did not cut corners. The 4K restoration carries a director-approved HDR grade with Dolby Vision, and Thurmann-Andersen’s washed-out oppressive whites have never looked this punishing. The dual format edition puts the feature and bonus material on both the UHD and Blu-ray, which is a small detail that collectors notice and appreciate.
The physical package is a rigid slipcase with new art by Peter Strain, a 120-page book with essays from Jenn Adams, Mitchell Beaupre, Barry Forshaw, Francesco Massaccesi, Priscilla Page, and Travis Woods, and six collector art cards. The book reads like it was commissioned from people who actually watched the film. That sounds like a low bar. It is not.
What Is on the Discs

The audio commentary with Skjoldbjærg and co-writer Nikolaj Frobenius is the feature you will come back to. A director revisiting his debut nearly thirty years out has usually dropped the defensiveness and kept the honesty, and this one has that quality. Two new interviews accompany it: “Running on Instinct” with Skjoldbjærg, and “Falling Into It” with producer Petter J. Borgli. The producer interview fills in context the film itself never bothers to explain.
Alexandra Heller-Nicholas contributes a piece called “Private Prisons” that treats the film analytically without treating it as a sacred object. Three of Skjoldbjærg’s short films are included: Spor, Close to Home, and Near Winter. Watch those first if you want to know where Insomnia came from.
Buy It or Don’t

If you have never seen this film, the answer is yes. Full stop.
If you own the Criterion edition and you are doing upgrade math. The restoration is the definitive visual presentation and the commentary is new material unavailable anywhere else. Whether that moves the needle depends on you.
Insomnia is a Norwegian film about guilt dressed as a detective story. Jonas Engström did not need the midnight sun to lose his mind. He was already most of the way there.
Movie Reviews
‘I Love Boosters’ Film Review – Capitalism is the Real Surrealist State
Surrealism is not my favorite film genre, but I will make a massive exception if it’s in the hands of Boots Riley. Not unlike his debut, Riley’s latest feature, I Love Boosters, is a weird, vibrant, funny, thoughtful, hopeful thesis on collective action and workers’ rights. At a time when satire is almost impossible (an episode of The Boys where the key villain announced that he was God aired just days after the president of the United States posted an AI meme of himself as Jesus), Riley manages to create something just bonkers enough actually feels like it has something to say, and is bright and colorful enough to demand your attention.
Corvette (Keke Palmer) is struggling to get where she wants to be in life, so poor that she’s squatting in a closed chicken restaurant. She and her friends, Sade (Naomi Ackie) and Mariah (Taylour Paige), steal clothes from the high-end boutique Metro and resell them at a lower price to people in their community. As part of their desire to get better at boosting, the three take jobs at Metro, hoping to figure out how to clear out an entire store.
But one day, while they are being reprimanded by Grayson for wearing last year’s Metro line from designer Christie Smith (Demi Moore), they leave the meeting to discover that someone has beaten them to emptying the store. They track down Jianhu (Poppy Liu), a Chinese woman who has a teleporting device that allows her to send the clothes back to China, where they are manufactured, hoping to force Christie to give them better wages and safer working conditions. They realize that they need to work together if they are going to see the changes they are striving for.
Also, LaKeith Stanfield plays a character who is so sexy, I can never watch this movie with my family.
At a time when so many trailers give away the entire movie, I Love Boosters is so wholly unique that if someone explained every plot point to you, you would still need to see it in order to fully grasp everything happening on screen. Like Corvette’s full-to-bursting pink tracksuit, this movie is stuffed with ideas and colors and characters, but it somehow all manages to stay together, creating an absolute feast for your eyes and ears.
The performances in this are absolutely spectacular from top to bottom. Keke Palmer sparkles, even as we see her running away from a literal ball of her problems. Demi Moore gets to play the opposite side of her role in The Substance, this time as the person trying to amass more wealth at the expense of those beneath her, primarily other women, and she tears it up. Don Cheadle is almost unrecognizable as Dr. Jack, a man Sade idolizes for his Friends Being Friendly pyramid scheme. Will Poulter is absolutely hilarious as Grayson, a Metro manager who has fully embraced everything Christie Smith is selling.
One thing you can glean from the trailer is the film’s overall look. Christie works in monochrome, so each location is filled with a single color. But even so, the colors are bright, not like the relentless desaturation that we are cursed with right now. Even when we are taken to the sweatshops in China, everything is bright and colorful. We are drenched in color and unique styles in I Love Boosters, but it is always singular, which is a fascinating way to show the uniformity that is often the hallmark of a hyper-capitalist society that is torn between conformity and individuality.
What makes this movie special is that in the midst of all of the hilarity, bright-but-monochromatic costuming, and a sex demon, there lies a deep philosophical examination of capitalism through the lens of dialectical materialism. This complex ideology isn’t dumbed down in any way, but is instead told to us through a magical device that is able to show us the world beneath the glitz and glamor of the fashion world. And sometimes what is underneath the literal skin of some of the people seeking to prop up the system as it is.
There are some issues with this film that don’t quite come together. The whole LaKeith Stanfield arc is very funny, but doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the movie. Taylour Paige is fantastic in her role, but there is more depth between Sade and Corvette, leaving less for Paige’s Mariah to do. But the messiness is so minor compared to the rest of I Love Boosters that it tends to get swept away in the maximalist filmscape that Riley has created.
Throughout the movie, Christie Smith has a lot to say about creating art and how her clothes allow people to become art themselves. At one point, someone tells her that people don’t want to be art, they want to make art. And that feels very much at the heart of this film. Most people want to create something beautiful that helps their community, but are constantly chased by the pressure to simply survive. To put a roof over your head, food on the table, clothes on your back. I Love Boosters says this dream is possible, but we might have to significantly change how we look at things and recognize that we’re stronger together than apart.
I Love Boosters is now in theaters.
Learn more about the film at the IMDB site for the title.
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Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Beware the “Backrooms” of Your Worst Nightmares
Here’s a thriller that Maurice Escher could have production designed, with Salvador Dalí decorating the sets and Stanley Kubrick behind the camera directing.
Not that Youtube phenom turned horror filmmaker Kane Parsons is the new Kubrick. But in turning his “Backrooms” found footage horror video series into a feature film, he and his production designer Danny Vermette (“Longlegs”) and art director Alan Derksen summon up not just cinematic horror imagery of the past, but of the most disturbing painters in the canon.
A visual essay in the sinister possibilities of a minimalist unknown becomes something deeper with nightmarish echoes of Heironymous Bosch and Dalí pasted on a yellow on yellow settings that could have been inspired by Mondrian.
This summer’s “Blair Witch Project” horror phenomenon is about a stressed, divorced furniture store owner who stumbles into an alternate reality by stepping through the walls of the basement of his bland ’90s surburban warehouse store.
Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor, bringing the “real”) never seems to have any customers, which only adds to the bitter edge his drinking has taken on.
“Cap’n Clark’s Ottoman Empire” is a badly-named “cheap particle board” furniture warehouse store which Clark tries to advertise with DIY commercials of himself dressed as a furniture pirate. The whole “pirate” or “sultan” branding doesn’t work and even his young dead-end employees (Lukita Maxwell and Finn Bennett) get that they don’t “get it.”
It’s only with his therapist (Renate Reinsve of “Sentimental Value” and “The Worst Person in the World”) that Clark gets into the reasons for his anger. He lost his house in a divorce to his perpetual law-student wife.
“I hurt people,” he confesses. “It’s just the way I”m wired.”
Role-playing the “big fight” that ended his marriage doesn’t help, and we wonder if published author Dr. Mary has a clue about how to get Clark “forging a new path” to better mental health.
The dude’s sleeping in his furniture store, after all. He’s got almost nowhere to go but up. But will he?
Something about this yellow wallppaper and yellowish carpet milieu of vast rooms, empty sections, cubicles with no one in them, wonky wiring and PA and CCTV systems gives him and us as viewers the creeps.
Poking around in the basement has him poking a wall because he hears something, and then freaking out when his arm and indeed his entire body go right through it.
Horror films that cast really good actors are the ones that manage the proper level of “This can’t be happening” shock and awe at what transpires. Clark absorbs the shock. Then he “explores” this beyond-the-basement-wall realm — mysterious piles of what looks like furniture, but “make no sense” as chairs or desks or what have you.
Half-buried manikin parts protrude, Dalí style, out of the floor. An advertising standee with a pirate on it chirps away greetings in a parade of languages. Walls recede into some pointed forced perspective and shafts and tunnels present themselves to Clark, who knows there’s someone or something in there with him. It’s just that he can’t help but come back.
Trying to explain to his therapist this “New York Subway System…massive” maze of rooms and corridors gets him nowhere. And rounding up his two employees to join him for this “expedition” to video what they find seems a mistake. It always is.
“Backrooms” is primarily a triumph of horrific tone, with a handful of grim and gruesome shocks to sate viewers who like their horror violent and bloody.
The look and the psychological mystery at the heart of it feed into the chill that sets in early and rarely leaves your mind. Horror conventions such as a character being snatched out of the frame and “Slenderman” like figures — and a dwarf — are tucked into this “Everything Everywhere All at Once” universe of an underworld.
The finale is entirely too conventional and pat to fit the general weirdness of all that’s preceded it. And as we ponder the puzzle what connects these people to that place — literal or mental — we have to consider what indie cinema icon Mark Duplass might be playing and what Reinsve is getting at as we see and hear her struggle to emote or even hit the right word emphasis in sentences in English.
But Ejiofor is the casting coup here, an actor who buys in and makes us join him as he utters even the most exhausted lines in horror — “Look, I know this sounds crazy.” Because it is. Until it starts to make sense, almost in spite of all the over-explaining that dominates the closing scenes.
Rating: R, violence, profanity
Cast: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Renate Reinsve and Mark Duplass.
Credits: Directed by Kane Parsons, scripted by Will Soodik, based on the Kane Parsons video series. An A24 release.
Running time: 1:50
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