Demi Moore’s The Substance taps into the zeitgeist – and shows why even the strongest characters need structural support. By Dr Erin O’Dwyer
It’s funny how certain films seem to arrive right on time. They don’t create a cultural conversation – they crack it wide open.
Right now, the conversation is about women and ageing. About reinvention, relevance, and what happens when a society obsessed with youth decides you no longer matter. Two recent blockbuster films put a bomb under that narrative: The Substance, starring Demi Moore, and her younger doppelganger Margaret Qualley; and The Last Showgirl, starring Pamela Anderson.
Let’s start with The Substance – the tighter of the two stories, and ultimately the better film, though I wanted to love Showgirl much more (see my article on Showgirl next week). But what The Substance lacks in subtlety, it makes up for in pretty perfect on-screen storytelling.
A horror film that cuts to the bone
The Substance stars Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-adored actress and TV fitness icon who has ‘aged out’ of her fame and is axed by the TV network. Desperate to keep her job, she signs up for a black-market procedure that extracts a younger version of herself from her body. Her double, played by Margaret Qualley, is everything Elisabeth used to be: doe-eyed, supple, sexy, and compliant. But there’s a cost. The film’s premise – “Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself?” – is a classic case of ‘if it sounds too good to be true it probably is’.
The charisma rule: why we can’t look away
What this film gets absolutely right is the law of charismatic characters. Every single person on screen demands your attention. Yes, Moore is as good as she ever was, but it’s Margaret Qualley who deserved the best actress nominations (sorry Demi!). Even the supporting cast are magnetic – Dennis Quaid as the sleazy TV executive, the freakish doctor, the lovestruck young boyfriend, the voyeuristic neighbour.
Charisma in storytelling isn’t just about beauty or charm. It’s about relatability; good people who make mistakes, dark horses who need to redeem themselves. Every character here has it – and it keeps you glued to the screen.
But charisma alone isn’t enough. It must be backed by structure. And this is where The Substance stands out. Despite the blood, guts and horror gore, the story is tightly told. The pacing is clean. The script doesn’t sag. Nothing is amiss. Which is exactly what these intense, magnetic characters need: a container strong enough to hold them.
Genre as delivery system
It would be easy to dismiss The Substance as just another grotesque horror flick. But that would miss the point. Horror is the vehicle, and its the perfect frame for a story about ageing and relevance. The physical distortion reflects the internal despair. It literalises the fear.
What storytellers can learn from The Substance
The most valuable lesson in this film is about the power – and precarity – of charismatic characters. When audiences care about a character, they’ll go anywhere with you the storyteller. But the audience’s attention must be earned, won and then rewarded.
Charismatic characters are the emotional anchors of any story. They might be funny, flawed, fierce, or quietly vulnerable. Think Forrest Gump. Or The Joker. Or Elisabeth Sparkle. Even villains need an edge of redemption. But no matter how strong the character, they can’t float unsupported. They need a story structure that guides them, rather than leaving them stranded.
So if you’re telling a story – on screen, on stage, in brand or in leadership – ask yourself:
- Are my characters magnetic – and do they evoke true emotional investment?
- Is the script or structure supporting them – or letting them down?
- Does my genre elevate the message – or distract from it?
- Have I created characters people feel for – not just pay a ticket price to see?
- Am I saying something timely, even if it’s uncomfortable?
Sometimes the most effective horror stories are the ones that tell the truth – just in disguise.
