The Substance (2024)

Direction: Coralie Fargeat
Country: USA

Coralie Fargeat’s sophomore feature, The Substance, is set to be hailed as the shock film of the year. A grotesque blend of body horror with sharp satirical overtones, it escalates in bizarre intensity until it reaches the brink of madness.

The film stars Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, an aging TV star who injects a miraculous substance designed to unlock her DNA, creating a younger, more beautiful version of herself. That version is played with mischievous charm by Margaret Qualley. However, Sparkle fails to adhere to the crucial condition—switch bodies every seven days—and struggles to comprehend the delicate balance needed for both versions to coexist.

The pumped up narrative swirls us up in this woman's obsession, invoking the transgressive and visceral visual traits reminiscent of David Cronenberg and John Carpenter. At its best, the film maintains a tense and unnerving atmosphere, but just as it has you on the edge of your seat, it spirals into gratuitous violence and excessive gore.

Fargeat's creation is undeniably horrific, but she pushes it too far, especially in the final act. The relentless gore feels less like a narrative necessity and more like a transgressive indulgence, ultimately undermining the careful creepiness that initially made it gripping. The last section is so filthy and exaggerated that it risks alienating viewers, leaving one to wonder why the director chose to tarnish what could have been a chillingly effective film.

The Substance is nauseating but undeniably powerful, shocking yet audacious. It’s an outrageously bloodthirsty dark fantasy that demands a strong stomach. Had Fargeat reined in the excess, it could have been a standout horror. Nevertheless, both Moore and Qualley deliver striking performances.

Terrestrial Verses (2024)

Direction: Ali Asgari, Alireza Khatami
Country: Iran

Terrestrial Verses, a directorial collaboration between the multi-awarded Ali Asgari and Canada-based Iranian-American filmmaker Alireza Khatami, shares several thematic strings with Abbas Kiarostami’s 2002 docufiction Ten. However, while Kiarostami’s work was centered only on women, this project includes men, presenting a series of nine vignettes that expose injustice, absurdities, and intolerable abuse of power. Shot in seven days and produced by the directors at their own expense, the film captures the essence of an oppressive system through the experiences of nine ordinary citizens of Tehran interviewed by authorities.

Among the most compelling stories are a confrontational teenager punished at school for arriving with her motorcyclist boyfriend, a young woman seemingly caught driving without hijab, two shameful job interviews (one laying bare sexism and the other religion-based discrimination), and a desperate filmmaker whose work, based on true events, is censored from start to finish. It’s a fine blend of realism, cynicism, and humor.

Following conceptual simplicity, Terrestrial Verses is minimalist in its visuals but cathartic in its dialogue. This pain-filled satire does so many things, all of them well. Opting for explicit directness, it forces the viewer to look straight into the eyes of victims of a controlling and toxic Iranian society marred by austere religious and political principles that serve only those in power. Films like these are important, denouncing oppression in the hopes of achieving freedom, in a relentlessly clever middle finger to baseless censorship. Although fictionalized, this accessible and defiant film offers enlightening insights into contemporary Iran.

The Palace (2023)

Direction: Roman Polanski
Country: Switzerland / Italy / other

From the acclaimed director Roman Polanski, whose filmography includes gems such as Repulsion (1965), Chinatown (1974), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), and The Pianist (2002), comes The Palace, an oddball satire that starts off well but sloppily falls into a wild intemperance pelted with flat humor, bubbly champagne, and too much caviar for my taste. Set in the luxurious Gstaad Palace hotel in the Swiss Alps on December 31, 1999, Polanski’s 24th feature film follows a cast of wealthy and eccentric characters as they gather for the millennium amid fears of the Y2K bug. They range from socialites and aristocrats with abhorrent faces from plastic surgeries to broke tycoons showing off diva postures to rowdy heavy-drinking Russians with no principles.

The hotel’s dedicated manager demands politeness, precision, and perfection from his staff, only to get trouble, embarrassment, and eccentricity from the arrogant and selfish customers. Caught between a brainless parody and a more observant satire, The Palace works more in the line of The Triangle of Sadness (2022) than The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014). Hence, despite wrecking you with luscious hues, the film’s scenes are often overindulgent and lacking in moderation. While some viewers may find humor in its zany antics, others may roll their eyes. 

Gone are Polanski's signature style and wit, replaced by repetitive gags and scenes that feel more grating than gratifying. We understand it was all created with mockery in mind. However, there are so many aspects that failed to work properly in this disjointed comedy. The international ensemble cast includes Fanny Ardant, Mickey Rourke, John Cleese, and Oliver Masucci.

Sick of Myself (2023)

Direction: Kristoffer Borgli
Country: Norway

Sick of Myself is a cruelly ironic and soulless dark comedy drama that flirts with the psychological horror genre. An uneasy, infectiously entertaining romp whose delirious story focuses on two obnoxious narcissists. 

Kristine Kujath Thorp (she delighted us two years ago with Ninjababy) and Eirik Sæther (in his feature debut) star as Signe and Thomas, respectively, two extreme narcissists who keep insanely competing for attention and fame while in a toxic relationship. However, their focuses diverge into distinct directions; whereas he obsesses with his career as a bogus avant-garde artist, she takes her madness further by sacrificing her body and general health in order to get the public’s eye on her. 

Expect to be struck by a mix of sad and funny feelings that, depending on your mood, can delight, depress or infuriate. The sarcastic humor spares no one in a film that aims right, with venom, and painfully hits the right spot in such a manner that we are ready to excuse its redundancies. 

Sadly terrifying and often repulsive, Sick of Myself is not a film I'm likely ever to revisit but is well directed, acted, and observed, even if it takes that observation to a deliberately disturbing satirical degree.