Your mother would take the Substance

The Substance is the perfect allegory for mother-daughter relationships

My sister recommended me The Substance (the film, that is). She told me it was the sort of film that one should watch with friends, rather than alone in your room, like she did. She also said, “I will never get the last ten minutes of my life back,” so it is safe to say that I was prepared for some unpalatable material. Looking back at her comment, I am appreciative of it, not just for the standout reasons – the graphic body horror, the final scene, the loneliness of self-image – but that I was with friends. Something I took from this film is that Elisabeth Sparkle decisively did not have enough friends or hobbies, and these are two of the only things that attack with purpose the ambiguity of what it means to be a woman. If I were bald and hobbling around the house, I would have purchased florals, joined a chess club with other old women, and read a book. The “hagsploitation” of Sparkle was intended to invoke disgust, a sentiment we do not extend to old men, such as the sexualised Dracula. Coralie Fargeat did an excellent job lacing her film with the irony of these tropes used by men in the industry, subverting the elements of psycho-biddy films.

I was startled that most people on the internet seemed to think this film is only about a woman’s relationship with herself, or with her younger self, or with the expectation of herself. While I think this message is true and impactful, my friends’ discussion during the film made me contemplate another angle. Someone commented, “I feel so awful for her.” “Why? Because she’s uglier? What’s wrong with that?” This second friend was overwhelmingly correct with these rhetorical questions: there must be nothing wrong with that, otherwise the message of this film becomes redundant. We, the audience, only empathise heavily with Sparkle because we judge her beautiful enough beforehand. Had we not deemed her beautiful enough at the beginning, we would probably feel differently.

Mothers give their lives up to care for their daughters ... they say goodbye to their youth, they can become bitter and sad, and they can also become envious

Instead, I was confronted with the reality of mother-daughter relationships. Elisabeth let herself be destroyed by Sue: she gave her half her time, her beauty, years of her life, and most of her joy. Yet, she still could not end the partnership. She lived vicariously through this younger self – a younger self that was, importantly, not entirely her. Margaret Qualley shares a notable likeness to Demi Moore, it must be said, but they are not identical. Why would anyone let themselves be destroyed for someone else to have a successful career just because their youthful selves share a likeness? Perhaps because they are mother and daughter. You were once the same, she came from you, and then you separated and no longer shared a consciousness.

Mothers give their lives up to care for their daughters, putting their health and happiness before their own. They say goodbye to their youth, they can become bitter and sad, and they can also become envious. When Kathy Bates won the Oscar for Misery, her mother said to her, “I don’t know what all the excitement [is] about, you didn’t discover the cure for cancer.” Bates went onto justify her mother’s statement with “I forgot to thank her that night.” But she did thank her. Despite her denial, she was eventually shown the video of her speech. “Why did I think I didn’t thank her? Oh, what a relief,” she sighed with a huge weight of emotion. When asked why this meant so much to her Bates replied, “’Cause she should have had my life.”

There is a small difference here to this anecdote: Elisabeth did have Sue’s life, once. But the point is the same. Regardless of whether a mother was beautiful and successful once or not, her daughter, does, in some way, owe her entire life to her. Then at some point, she does not. Bates had remarkable talent, like Sue independently being cut out for the new role. Yes, they should be thankful to their mothers, but not a life indebted. While Bates ended up extremely remorseful and anxious due to her berating mother, Sue ended up, as many do, hating her.

I was not surprised when Sue decided to also take the Substance at the end of the film in her misery, and a monster was born. If you do not love your daughter, and your daughter does not love you, I would not expect otherwise. The child will be a dangerous fusion of you both.

Read more articles on The Substance by the Film & TV team: