It’s looking more and more likely that—if there’s any justice in this world—Demi Moore will earn her first-ever Oscar nomination for Best Actress in The Substance. And when she does, the choice for her Oscar reel clip is an obvious one: The Substance makeup scene.
Written and directed by French filmmaker Coralie Fargeat, The Substance is an absurd body horror flick that first premiered at Cannes Film Festival, where it won the Palme d’Or for Best Screenplay. Demi Moore stars as an aging Hollywood star named Elisabeth Sparkle, who uses an experimental black market drug to create a younger, hotter clone of herself, played by Margaret Qualley. Now that The Substance is streaming on Mubi, even more people will get the chance to watch the film—which means even more people will get the chance to see Moore deliver the one of most heartbreaking scenes of 2024, without even uttering a single word of dialogue.
The set-up is this: Elisabeth’s young, hot clone—who goes by Sue—quickly obtains Elisabeth’s fantasy life, including becoming the star of what was formerly Elisabeth’s TV show. But Sue and Elisabeth must trade off every seven days. When it’s Elisabeth’s turn to be alive, she finds herself feeling depressed and worthless. You can almost hear Elisabeth comparing her face to Sue’s in her head.
“It gets harder each time to remember that you still deserve to exist,” another user of the substance tells Elisabeth. “That this part of yourself is still worth something.”
But Elisabeth isn’t ready to give up on herself. In an effort to feel beautiful and desired, she calls up a man who approached on the street earlier in the film—an old schoolmate named Fred (played by Edward Hamilton Clark) who, like Elisabeth, is 50, but unlike Elisabeth, is not Hollywood-gorgeous. Nevertheless, he decided to shoot his shot, and gave Elisabeth his number. He’s shocked and thrilled when Elisabeth calls and asks him out on a date.
Elisabeth gets ready for the date by putting on a stunning red dress, heels, classy gold hoops, and a blood-red lip. She’s absolutely gorgeous. But after she does her makeup, she catches a glimpse of Sue’s face on her bathroom floor. Sue’s face is perfectly smooth and wrinkle free. Her lips are plush, and her skin is taut. Moore’s face falls as she looks at her.
Slowly, Elisabeth walks back to the mirror to confront her reflection, again. Though she has no dialogue, Moore’s heartbreaking vulnerability conveys every inch of Elisabeth’s insecurities. She tentatively brushes a finger over her cheek. Then she brushes on more blush and smears on more lip gloss. Satisfied, she turns off the bathroom light and prepares to leave.
But before she can exit her apartment, Elisabeth is once again confronted by the perfect, youthful face of Sue, this time on the billboard outside her window. Moore freezes. Her eyes roam over Sue’s flawless, airbrushed body, lingering on her perky breasts.
Elisabeth flicks her bathroom light back on. Once again, without any words, Moore broadcasts every self-deprecating thought in Elisabeth’s head via her expression and movements. Her brow furrows as she self-consciously tugs on her dress, trying to cover up more skin. She grabs a scarf. Then she hurriedly dabs on even more makeup. Her movements are sharp, aggressive. You feel the self-hatred simmering just beneath the surface. All the while, the clock is ticking down to the time when she’s due to meet Fred.
Once again, Elisabeth tries to leave her apartment. But she can’t bring herself to open the door. She feels the weight of Sue’s gaze on her back. She catches sight of her own, distorted reflection in the brass doorknob. And then, once again, she’s back in the bathroom, flicking that light back on.
Moore yanks the scarf off as she glares at her reflection. She wipes off her makeup in violent, stilted movements. She scrubs, and scrubs, and scrubs, as if she’s trying to wipe away her very flesh. Then she starts pawing at her face; tearing at her hair. Again, not a word has been spoken, but Elisabeth’s thoughts ring loud and clear: She hates herself. She hates the way she looks. She feels like a fool for even thinking she could dress up and look beautiful.
In the end, Elisabeth doesn’t go on the date. It’s a heartbreaking scene, in part because it’s so relatable to anyone who’s ever gazed into a mirror and despised what they’ve seen. The gore, body horror, and even a bloody, detached boob all come later—but, to me, this was the most memorable moment of the film. And it couldn’t have been done without a masterful actor like Moore. If that’s not enough to earn Moore—who has three Golden Globe and one Emmy nomination—her first-ever Oscar nod, I don’t know what is.
