The Horrors of Perfection

The horror of The Substance is on the inside

What does it mean when we do everything to conform for society, just for them to reject us again?

The Substance has been seen everywhere recently. Demi Moore won her first Golden Globes award for her starring role in the film, making it not only an important night for her, but for the horror genre as a whole. It’s a rare sight to see a horror movie win any type of fancy award, so to see a body horror film win is a cause for celebration.

The movie challenges modern day beauty standards, with Elisabeth (Demi Moore) as the main victim. Elisabeth is the star of Pump It Up, an exercise show reminiscent of Jane Fonda on tape. Despite Elisabeth captivating the audience with her effortless grace, the studio believes that her value has expired.

Why? Well, because she’s too “old” now. To the studio, getting old means getting ugly. There’s no room for Elisabeth anymore. They need a fresh face to bring the views. They need a young woman with a young body–gross, but all too real of an experience for many women (and men).

This is where Elisabeth discovers “The Substance” – an experimental drug meant to create the perfect version of yourself. You’ve probably seen some of the memes, I’m sure:

But perfectionism isn’t an easy feat. What starts as a miracle drug for Elisabeth’s turmoil soon spirals into a horrifying display of her self-hatred.

ELISABETH

In hopes to find her spark again, Elisabeth turns to The Substance. In the film, it’s introduced to the audience as an experimental black market drug–and for good reason. It promotes itself as creating the perfect version of oneself, but it does so in a gruesome and unpleasant way.

The drug splits the host in two, essentially creating another human through what feels like mitosis. For Elisabeth, her perfect version is named Sue, and she crawls out of Elisabeth’s back like a butterfly escaping its bloody cocoon.

But the thing that drove Elisabeth into this mess in the first place was her own insecurities, placed onto her by the society around her. It’s even worse for someone like her, a star in Hollywood who’s starting to look different. It doesn’t matter if she’s just as beautiful as she’s always been, it matters that she’s different.

We’ve seen this in Hollywood time and time again, but especially in the 2000s. Whenever a woman did anything deemed “wrong,” the media went hog wild. Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Janet Jackson… The list goes on and on. This was the same media that questioned celebrity women’s weight changes, shaming them for even daring to think about gaining a pound or two.

Films used fat suits as punchlines, interviewers blatantly asked women about their bodies, and celebrity blogs like Perez Hilton were disgustingly sexist about practically everything.

Shows like America’s Next Top Model didn’t help matters, either. Yes, it was about the brutal world of the modeling industry, but the judges on this show constantly degraded the contestants. Tyra Banks would body shame contestants, mentally abuse them, and force them to perform ridiculous stunts that felt more like humiliation kinks than actual tests of self-discipline.

Christ, the 2000s were an interesting time.

In today’s world, The Substance drug feels like a parallel to the rise of plastic surgery and, more recently, drugs like Ozempic. While plastic surgery and cosmetic procedures have always been a thing, it seems they have increased in popularity in the past few years.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting work done–do what you want with your body, as long as you do it responsibly. But it’s not hard to see how the use of The Substance can be seen as a direct comparison to the use of plastic surgery. But Elisabeth serves as a reminder that external changes will never fix internal problems. She sought after something drastic in hopes to feel wanted again, yet failed to find her own self-worth. Her unhappiness still lingered despite striving for what she thought was perfection.

Similarly, some people have reported having regrets after plastic surgery. Many realize that although it may fix surface-level issues, it may not fix the inner healing required for self-love. It’s a bandaid fix, one that will only be ripped off to reveal the same unhealed wounds again.

Perhaps an even more direct comparison would be the rise of Ozempic in Hollywood– or at least, the talk of the rise of Ozempic in Hollywood.

Thin is in again, apparently, because bodies are seen as fashion trends. It feels like a concerning repeat of the 2000s: a time when people’s bodies were picked apart by the media, dieting plans were pushed on everyone, and unhealthy beauty standards were shoved onto young girls.

But the most unfortunate part is that Elisabeth was never happy in using The Substance. She felt sidelined, ruined, and unsure of her place in the industry. Her inner conflict reminds us that no substance, surgery, or drug can actually fix the damage placed upon us by societal standards.

SUE

Elisabeth’s other half, Sue, faces her own struggles despite being the “perfect” one. Younger and seemingly superior, Sue thrives on her beauty and arrogance but her obsession to remain in the spotlight leads to her own demise. As Sue grows hungrier for power, she begins to destroy Elisabeth’s health, draining her vitality until she becomes a fragile concept of what she used to be.

Eventually, Sue’s rage consumes her. In a fit of anger, she physically attacks Elisabeth, beating her to death. However, she seals her fate in doing so. The Substance binds them together–“you are one”–and without Elisabeth, Sue begins to lose herself. Her beauty slips from her fingers, left to face her fear of imperfection.

Sue’s recklessness is the perfect parallel to how many young people treat their own bodies, ignoring long-term consequences of their actions. Why worry about what happens to your body when you smoke, drink, or tan when it won't affect you until you’re older? But, as Sue finds out, it’s far too late for your regret to save you.

Desperate to stay in control of her beauty, Sue turns to The Substance again, injecting herself in attempts to save her perfection. She serves as the vicious cycle of chasing beauty, one that consumes your innermost thoughts and feelings.

MONSTRO ELISASUE

Monstro Elisasue is possibly the most tragic of tales from The Substance. She’s the product of the combined insecurities from both Elisabeth and Sue. She carries their desperation, need for approval, and unattainable pursuit for perfection.

She serves as the grotesque personification of the women that society loves to ostracize. The women who turned to surgery, drugs, and endless skincare products to desperately stay desirable. She followed society’s rules–she conformed to their beauty standards, changed herself for them, yet was met with rejection, mockery, and terror.

As she stands on the stage with a fragile paper mask of a young Elisabeth, she begs for the audience to see her as she truly is. But the audience can only see her as a monster, acting as stand-ins for the way tabloids and the media have long treated women. They laugh at her, scream at her, and reduce her to an ugly monster.

Monstro Elisasue isn’t the horror of the third act–it’s the people who treat her like a disgusting piece of trash.

When she escapes the auditorium, she begins to fall apart. Her body breaks down, unable to handle the rejection anymore. Monstro Elisasue disappears, and Sue is gone with her. The only one left remaining is Elisabeth–a blob with a face, stripped of everything she once had.

Yet, despite losing seemingly everything, she finds inner peace. Sitting on her Hollywood star, she looks up at the night sky and smiles. This is the moment of self-acceptance. Elisabeth finally realizes her own worth, finding love in her own self, before dying. She may have been rejected by everybody else, but she at least died with dignity.

CONCLUSION

The Substance is a film that forces us to confront the beauty standards we place upon women. Through Elisabeth’s tragic tale–and the haunting figure of Monstro Elisasue–it shows us how these expectations harm everyone, regardless of age, fame, or status. These standards don’t just dehumanize people; they destroy them.

Now, with its Golden Globes win and Oscar nominations, The Substance is being seen for exactly what it is: a body horror film that holds a mirror to the real-life horrors many women face every day. As the film continues to be celebrated, it leaves us with one question: what are we doing to stop the cycle?