The Substance (2024)

Score: 5 / 5

Coralie Fargeat returns to the director's seat with another sumptuously realized vision of feminist horror in The Substance. After Revenge (2017) put her in the spotlight with its genre-bending, pulse-pounding thrills and clever spin on the rape-revenge exploitation flick, we were all itching to see what she'd next craft. No one expected this behemoth of a body horror machine, nor a satirical, incisive assault on internalized ageism and sexism in the entertainment industry. This is very much a Major Issues film, no doubt why it has been so lauded by the season's award shows, but it's also the kind of horror film that doesn't usually get such formal recognition.

Fargeat's screenplay and direction are brave and brazen, spinning a yarn of an aging actress trying to stay afloat by leading video exercise classes on daytime television. Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), still gorgeous, seems to be just getting by. Her monstrous boss, a studio executive pointedly named Harvey (Dennis Quaid), cancels her show to find a younger, hotter girl who might boost ratings. Devastated and distracted, Elisabeth survives a violent car wreck; in her despair, she learns of a mysterious product that might help her. It's called The Substance, and it will supposedly rejuvenate her body so that she can continue working in the industry. It rings familiar in our Ozempic era of easy solutions and fast results; the product is shrouded in secrecy and its customer service could be viewed as either the shadiest low-budget street deal imaginable or the sleekest of high-tech alchemy hidden in plain sight. However you view it, you just know it's bad news.

Mythic stories like this rarely traffic in good news, indeed, but Elizabeth's single-minded determination to stay relevant in her youth-obsessed industry pulls her past the ideological red flags posed by The Substance. Like a child in a Grimm fairytale, she claims her first package and immediately dives into the process. By this point in the film, I was riveted. Fargeat presents us with stylized pseudo-reality like we rarely see anymore. Workplace fisheye lenses make us feel observed and paranoid, like Elisabeth, and present Harvey as a grotesque creature, physically repugnant in his bodily functions and avaricious materialism. Her apartment is sparse and spacious, modern but also somewhat liminal, especially her enormous bathroom entirely in white tile, a sort of reverse "sunken place" that feels more clinical and sanitary than any hospital. But there won't be medicine happening in this one. Expressive cinematography, inspired costuming, and compellingly overbearing music (mostly synth) make this film feel more inspired by the giallo tradition than by any contemporary styles.

Leaving the rest of the plot for you to discover on your own, I'll quickly run through my remaining notes. Much like in her first film, Fargeat here takes a perverse pleasure in toying with our expectations; between her many references to other genre staples, she ekes out a familiar story in novel ways. Unlike many horror films, The Substance doesn't encourage ways to outsmart or outmaneuver its central rules; once you activate and start the switch, you're locked in for the week. You can apparently stop at any time (unlike The Ring, which seems an intentional reference), but of course you won't want to once you taste the fountain of youth. Destroying her creation -- a double named Sue (Margaret Qualley) -- isn't really an option for her, so like her literary counterparts Dr. Jekyll, Victor Frankenstein, and Dorian Gray, Elisabeth is tortured by the monster she's created. But is Sue the monster? Fargeat demonstrates that it's not so simple. And visually, she's pulling as much from David Cronenberg (The Brood, The Fly) and Brian De Palma (Carrie) as she is from Re-Animator, Alfred Hitchcock, and '80s workout videos. The film even uses Bernard Herrmann's theme music from Vertigo, which should tell you all you need to know.

Though awards season is over, I'm finally getting through my 2024 watchlist and reviews, and frankly Moore should have won the Oscar for this performance. Not "in honor" of her career, as many have said, but simply for the brutality of her creation in Elisabeth. She's doing physical acting we've never seen from her, to say nothing of the emotional odyssey she mostly nonverbally embarks upon. By the climax, she's doing this Glenn Close-esque chameleonic thing as makeup and prosthetics take over, and I was so riveted that the humor was almost lost on me. Qualley is admirable here, and does exceptional work, but this is Moore's movie through and through, and her unbridled, raw embodiment of Elisabeth is one for the ages. The centerpiece of the film is a protracted scene in which Elisabeth, tired of the chaos and hoping to reclaim her natural, aging identity, primps herself for a date night. I won't say more, but if you know, you know. It might be the best filmed sequence of any film all year.

Without spoiling anything, there are boons for repeat viewings of this film. Quaid's performance is his best in many long years. Thematically, the film grapples with more than any one scene can handle. Visually, it beats you into submission and then pours acid on your wounds. Fargeat seems determined to gross us out, and the John Waters effect is palpable; by the denouement, we finally recognize that camp was her endgame, and it's as emotionally violent as it is absurdly irreverent. Whether you've put it off or even seen it once, it might be time to dim the lights and hit "play." No matter how ready you think you are for it, you're not.

Strange World (2022)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Right when I expect to hit the snooze button on Disney, they do this. Easily my favorite animated feature film since Raya and the Last Dragon, Strange World continues Disney's trend of repopularizing old tropes with metafictional awareness and vibrant fun. Not unlike Onward, this one primarily centers on male family relationships, though this time it's all about multigenerational men. It also models itself on classic science fiction adventure tropes, namely those pioneered by the likes of Jules Verne and Arthur Conan Doyle. Complex and thoughtful, the film works best -- as the best of Disney does -- as a straightforward adventure for kids and as a heavily thematic nostalgia trip for adults. It's also arguably the most progressive Disney movie yet, which came as a joyous shock in our recent trip to the cinema.

If Avatar, Osmosis Jones, and Journey to the Center of the Earth had a brainchild, Strange World would be it. It begins with a very retro prologue, in which an adventurous and stubborn explorer Jaeger Clade (Dennis Quaid) and his insecure and prudent son Searcher (Jake Gyllenhaal) attempt to traverse the impassible surrounding mountains that isolate their homeland Avalonia. Along the dangerous journey, they discover a new green plant that generates energy, which leads them to a parting of the ways: Searcher wants to take the plant, which he calls "Pando," back home to help the people of Avalonia, but Jaeger dismisses him and leaves alone into the wild. The film launches forward twenty-five years, where we see Searcher is enshrined as a hero for saving Avalonia with the (literally) green renewable energy of Pando.

Searcher has become a Pando farmer along with his aviator wife Meridian (Gabrielle Union) and their teenage son Ethan (Jaboukie Young-White). In this entrancing introductory sequence, we see Disney's fabulous inclusivity on full display: an interracial marriage, a mixed-race son, a critical emphasis on renewable energy, a dog with only three legs, and Ethan's burgeoning queerness as he flirts with his crush, Diazo. It seems like Disney took to heart all the calls for queer representation from Frozen and Luca and finally did something about it! You could feel the audience's joy in the auditorium when Ethan and Diazo get caught up in a meet-cute in front of the Clade farm, and then when Searcher jumps in to lovingly and supportively embarrass his son.

But Avalonia is a land on the brink of ecological crisis, and Pando is dying from mysterious causes. One of Jaeger's old fellow explorers Callisto (Lucy Liu) enlists the Clades to help solve the case, and they embark on an adventure deep under Avalonia, where they've learned all Pando comes from the same source. So as they follow the pulsating green tendrils, they discover an entire underground ecosystem vibrant with life. It's like Pandora or Fern Gully or Atlantis or the Hollow Earth, a place of trippy colors and otherworldly wildlife and sentient plants. It doesn't take long for them to find curious amoeba-like critters, large tentacled balls that destroy everything in their path, aerial highways of birdlike blobs, rivers of neon acid, and ultimately Jaeger himself, who has spent the last two and a half decades living in this indeed strange world.

The reappearance of Jaeger sparks the crux of drama in this film, and the three generations of Clade men are forced to confront their own insecurities. Brilliantly, the writers and directors avoid clichéd conflicts for the most part, letting Ethan's voice be just as strong as Searcher's when they argue about the future of their Pando farm, letting Searcher's accusations of abandonment by Jaeger land rather than be dismissed, and even when Jaeger learns his grandson might be in love with another boy he reacts enthusiastically. These simple sidesteps around familiar potholes are indicative of this film's tone, which actively breathes fresh air into what is otherwise a fairly stale mash-up of genre-typical tropes. And then there's the pure visual invention of the film, which makes it endlessly watchable and delightful. Bravo, Disney!

Midway (2019)

Score: 4 / 5

I'm a sucker for war movies, and even more a sucker for Roland Emmerich. And Midway is not a disappointment.

A two-and-a-half hour war thriller that basically spans the Pacific naval activities during WWII, the film considers its central battle -- The Battle of Midway, obviously -- in terms of its context. It does so at great risk; we've been programmed into iconic, intense, and isolated microcosms of these wars in cinema, and so working hard (and in such a long film) to contextualize the climactic conflict is dramatically dangerous. With the helpful use of onscreen text with dates and locations, we get carried along from the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor to the Tokyo Raid the next year and finally to the titular three-day conflict of air and sea.

Because it's Emmerich, there's a lot you can accurately predict about this movie. Let's dive into a few. One: It primarily concerns men, and all but wastes Mandy Moore. Two: Nobody is really given enough drama to shine in their roles. The men seem like they're doing their best to carry on the tradition of stoic, heroic war movies: strong chins, strange hair on their heads and face, they seem intent only on serving their country and giving their best tough man impressions to the camera. Three: The plot flies along so quickly that I'm sure I heard groans from history buffs in the audience. But it's never less than entertaining, and certainly could never be accused of being boring.

Four, and perhaps most objectionable to some: It's drowning in special effects. As one of the most expensive independent movies ever made, Midway already demanded a sizable budget. Add to it the aerial dogfights, a submarine with torpedoes, and fleets of ships on open water in open war and what else could he have done? Emmerich doesn't necessarily go for broke with the calculated immersion of Nolan's Dunkirk, but he clearly learned a few great ideas from the master filmmaker. This movie is cast mostly in stark, bluish daylight and features an incredible soundscape that makes you feel the urgency of what's onscreen. While the screenplay and performances largely feel like they're more in-tune with WWII movies than WWII itself, the visuals and editing are full-on Emmerich at his dizzying, spectacular best. Then the planes dive hundreds of yards in a flurry of exploding fireworks, you can hardly help but hold your breath and grip your armrests.

Finally, and most importantly, it's just a lot of fun; at least, if you consider eye-popping battle sequences at sea entertaining. Emmerich may get criticized for his blockbuster, CGI aesthetic, but damned if he doesn't know exactly what he's doing. It's all a bunch of gorgeous billowing smoke, fire blazing, and water splashing. We might have hoped for a bit more real-life drama (not like the artificial romance of Pearl Harbor) since, after all, the characters here are apparently based on real-life soldiers, unlike in the 1976 film of the same name. The few moments of real intrigue are largely skated over, including James Doolittle (Aaron Eckhart) landing in China after bombing Tokyo. But this is no historical treatise, and Emmerich knows we're here for the action. For a rousing war movie that depicts both sides of the conflict but accurately champions the heroes -- Emmerich is many things, but always a sentimentalist -- you couldn't do much better than Midway.