The Substance’s Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley: ‘We’re both freaks’

The Substance should come with its own age rating at cinemas: do not watch if you’re older than Margaret Qualley (29). A delightfully disgusting, over-the-top horror extravaganza from the 47-year-old French auteur Coralie Fargeat, The Substance is a blistering attack on how modern society mistreats women once they reach a certain point in their life. In this case, Elisabeth Sparkle, a TV fitness personality played by Demi Moore, undergoes a sci-fi procedure known as “The Substance” to transform herself into Sue, a younger lifeform embodied by Qualley. Except even Sue, in all her Qualley-ness, suffers from the same misogynistic beauty standards facing all women today.

For two-and-a-half hours, The Substance takes its simultaneously mischievous and depressing premise way further than you expect – or maybe can possibly handle. A Hollywood satire that delves into its own nightmarish, grotesque literalisation of being aged out of society, Fargeat’s fuck-you to the world is driven by unexpected, unforgettable imagery that keeps one-upping itself. “I feel sincere with myself when I can release the craziness that you’re not able to in everyday life,” says Fargeat, speaking to me in a London hotel. “The magic is allowing yourself to flirt with the ‘too much’.”

In LA, Elisabeth is a former movie star who, at the age of 50, is deemed too old by her monstrous boss (Dennis Quaid) to present her aerobics show. Now unemployed, Elisabeth resorts to “The Substance”, a black-market product whereby she injects herself with a mysterious matter – it helps not to think about it too much, if at all – that results in Sue materialising out of nothing. For seven days, Elisabeth lies comatose in a bathroom while the younger Sue roams Hollywood; they then switch back for another week, allowing Elisabeth to stew in jealousy at, essentially, herself. The pattern continues until it’s hilariously unsustainable.

Moore and Qualley, aged 61 and 29, are technically playing the same character, and so it’s fitting that when I speak to them they’re sat next to each other, finishing the other person’s sentences. Qualley, who also played malleable humans in Poor Things and Kinds of Kindness, raves to me about Moore’s performance in GI Jane, calling it “one of my favourites ever”. Moore, of course, returns the favour.

“Every time Margaret does something, it’s impeccable,” says Moore. “I think we both share a slightly odd…”

“She’s ballsy,” says Qualley.

“I think we’re both…” says Moore.

“Freaks,” says Qualley.

“What we share is that we’re both willing to get dirty, in whatever respect that means,” says Moore.

“You heard that here first,” says Qualley.

Given the film’s minimal dialogue, both actors take on an almost balletic approach to the gross-out humour. Qualley cites Fargeat’s planning as being so precise, it was “paint-by-numbers” as to where to appear in the frame. “These short bursts lent itself to a feeling of flooring it,” says Qualley. “It was pedal-to-the-metal, everything dialled up to 10.”

“Even when you don’t have a lot of dialogue, it still has to be alive,” says Moore. “That comes from what’s going on inside. When we’re looking at ourselves in the mirror, we’re actually communicating a lot. Our job was to give fullness to those moments.”

While Fargeat is a lifelong Parisian, she knew early on that The Substance would unfold in California. As symbols of unrealistic physical standards, American movie stars face a specific kind of excessive scrutiny that lends itself to body horror while also being recognisable to general audiences. She didn’t, however, research Ozempic, the diabetes drug that’s allegedly widespread in LA.

“Ozempic is just a new [version of] crazy products I had when I grew up to change the shape of your body,” says Fargeat. “I tried so much stuff to lose weight, like orange peel. It’s endless. When my mother was young, she took amphetamines to not gain weight. You feel that if you don’t conform yourself to an image, you’re going to be erased from society. The products are different but the system is exactly the same.”

In her 2017 debut feature, Revenge, Fargeat deployed genre tropes to tackle the societal imbalance between men and women: a young female is raped and then seeks gory retribution against her attackers. A further parallel with The Substance, though, is with her 2014 short Reality+, in which a man inserts a chip into his brain to temporarily attain a perfect physique. “It’s a theme I’ve lived with for a long time because, as a woman, it shapes your relationship with the world,” says Fargeat. “When I create, they’re different branches of a tree from the same root.”

We all know what Cronenbergian refers to. Is there such a thing a Fargeatian? “Coralie pushes the envelope of reality,” says Moore. “In Revenge, when the girl falls, you’re like: she couldn’t have lived through that. Then she gets up. Coralie creates totally unique worlds that are parallel to our own world.”

“Fargeatian would be that it’s bloody,” says Qualley. “And there’s tits and butts.”

Ozempic is just a new [version of] crazy products I had when I grew up to change the shape of your body... You feel that if you don’t conform yourself to an image, you’re going to be erased from society – Coralie Fargeat

Going even further back, Fargeat’s first job was as a PA on the 2010 drama Passion of Mind, which starred Moore. “It was a dream to discover how a film set works, with such an iconic star,” says Fargeat. “I like that it’s a loop.” However, Moore – one of the most famous actors in the world – had to meet Fargeat six times before getting the role. Moore deems it atypical and reflective of the director’s perfectionism.

“Coralie was also having meetings with me to get a sense of who could play them as one,” says Qualley. “We did this brutal, intense shoot for five months. She wanted to find people who had endurance.”

They had to prove they were better than other Hollywood wimps?

“I think we’re pretty courageous,” says Moore. “You’ve seen the movie. It was emotionally and physically demanding on all levels. The prosthetics in particular.”

When the prosthetics do appear, the reactions they provoke may depend on your age, your gender, your relationship with your body, your profession, and if you’re alone or in a packed, raucous cinema. Squirm, laugh, cry, battle the urge to vomit – these are all plausible side-effects to a film that won Fargeat the Best Screenplay prize at Cannes. I mention to the actors that I’ve noticed reviews tending to reflect the critic’s age.

“What age responses?” says Qualley. “I’m so curious. Like it was exploitative?”

I suggest that a younger person, particularly a man, might revel in the audacious, in-your-face horror schlock, while an older woman could take more personal umbrage with the humour that arises from witnessing Elisabeth’s relatable body issues.

“Speaking as a woman of a certain age, I think it would be deeply moving in recognising an important perspective, and looking at the violence and harshness we hold against ourselves,” says Moore. “It’s an opportunity to really move towards a deeper acceptance of who we are, as we are.”

Likewise, Fargeat is fascinated, if not surprised, by the range of feedback to a film that takes audiences out of their comfort zone then pummels them with prickly, upsetting imagery. “I knew the movie was going to be polarising because when you do strong choices, you provoke a strong reaction,” says Fargeat. “I also knew some people would reject the statement the film makes.”

She continues, “The film is showing the world as it is. It’s not creating what I wish the world would be. I’m showing the violence that I experience in the world I’m living in. I’m showing all the misogyny, all the power imbalance, all the twisted reactions we can have by trying to fit into a world that’s not designed for us. These are things people wish didn’t exist anymore – but they’re still there.”

The Substance is out in cinemas on September 20