Commentary: Demi Moore's Oscars loss upset many, but The Substance's triumph is about more than trophies

SINGAPORE: On Sunday (Mar 2), The Substance star Demi Moore lost the Best Actress Oscar, an award she had been widely projected as the favourite to win throughout Hollywood’s awards season. 

The film, which won one Oscar (out of its five nominations), follows Elisabeth Sparkle, a TV star fired from her long-running aerobics show on her 50th birthday. Desperate, Elisabeth injects herself with a mysterious substance that creates a younger, flawless version of her – “Sue”, who takes over Elisabeth’s TV spot. 

At first, Elisabeth and Sue establish a bizarre partnership, alternating lives every seven days as dictated by the rules of “the substance”. But Sue soon starts demanding more and more control, draining Elisabeth of her remaining vitality. 

The film shines a powerful spotlight on the pressures women face in a society that venerates youth and beauty: Men become “wiser” or more sophisticated with age, while women must do all they can to defy it. 

But was 62-year-old Moore’s loss to Mikey Madison, the 25-year-old star of Best Picture winner Anora, a case of life imitating art? 

INTENSE FEAR OF AGEING

The concept of “shelf life” for women has always been loaded. 

Take the cultural discourse around actor Leonardo DiCaprio's relationships which, observers have pointed out, usually end when his partners turn 26. This has given rise to no end of viral memes, including a trend where women over 25 jokingly write “Too old for Leo” on their birthday cakes or in social media captions marking their birthdays. 

This is particularly evident in showbiz. Before this week, the average age for Best Actress winners had been 37.2 years old compared to 44.6 for Best Actor winners – a gap of 7.4 years. Before this week, just 30 women aged 40 or over had ever won the leading actress award, compared with 63 men named leading actor.

In The Substance, Sue drastically mistreats and neglects Elisabeth’s prone body – carelessly leaving it on the floor for a week, then hiding it in a dark room out of sight – a symbol of society’s dismissal of older women and the self-loathing women are conditioned to feel as they age.

These pressures aren’t new. For instance, media outlets have long celebrated older celebrities for appearing significantly younger for their age, probing into their beauty regimens as if age-defying skin is an achievement of personal effort, rather than costly interventions or simply good odds in the genetic lottery. 

THE RISING TIDE OF BEAUTY PRESSURES

More concerningly, though, The Substance taps into a pervasive social trend that’s been intensifying in recent years: Women increasingly turning to unnecessary procedures not as a curative fix but as a pre-emptive, preventative measure against ageing. 

Botox and fillers, once marketed to women over 40, are now common among women in their 20s. Between 2019 and 2022, their usage skyrocketed by 73 per cent, driven by social media trends glorifying wrinkle-free faces. 

A particularly alarming TikTok trend features women detailing how many units of Botox they’ve had at various ages, with some as young as 23 sharing their injection routines.

As young people spend more and more time on social media, it sends a message that the pursuit of unrealistic standards of temporal physical beauty is worth the cost of inflicting long-term damage on one’s health.

This relentless pursuit of perfection feeds an industry that profits from insecurity.

Young women are regularly targeted in marketing campaigns that sell products or services that alter their appearances to varying degrees, from skin-lightening treatments to extreme diets.

In South Korea, this fixation begins early. High school graduates commonly receive double eyelid surgery as a gift, amid pressures to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards.

UNDOING THE TIES BETWEEN BEAUTY AND WORTH

In one of The Substance’s most poignant scenes, Elisabeth is at home preparing for a long-awaited date. Catching sight of a billboard of Sue, she is gripped with self-doubt. She frantically changes outfits, harshly scrutinises her features in the mirror, and layers on thick makeup. Ultimately, her insecurity consumes her – she cancels the date.

Sue continues to flagrantly flout “the substance” rules, leaving Elisabeth withered and wasted. But, despite her rage, Elisabeth still refuses to terminate her, desperate to hold on to what’s left of her youth and social relevance.

The Substance doesn’t just criticise the societal convention of a woman’s worth being tied to her physical appearance – it compels women to interrogate all the ways they have succumbed to this idea for themselves. 

Off-screen, a growing movement is pushing back against these ideals.

On another side of TikTok, trends celebrating “flaws” like prominent noses and freckles show women honouring features that connect them to their families and heritage, forgoing surgical procedures to “correct” or conceal them. East Asian influencers are increasingly creating content emphasising their features, such as enhancing monolids rather than masking them. 

Movements like “de-influencing” seek to encourage women to reject the endless cycle of consumerism that preys on insecurities by removing beauty filters, celebrating their natural selves, and reminding us that we don’t need products or procedures to feel whole.

HOW TO WIN A LOSING BATTLE

Upon winning her first Golden Globe in January, Demi Moore talked about how she’d struggled throughout her 40-year career with being taken seriously as a talented performer rather than just a pretty face. Following the triumph of her widely praised performance in The Substance, many viewed Moore’s loss at the Oscars as an injustice – especially considering winner Mikey Madison was the youngest nominee by far. 

It doesn’t make sense to argue who’s more “deserving”. Both women gave excellent performances. 

Perhaps what matters more is to keep in mind that in the end, awards and trophies are just one small part of the equation.

Regardless of how many Oscars it did or didn’t win, the impact that The Substance has had – sparking important conversations about beauty and women’s value as individuals both online and off – is something that cannot be undone. 

Earlier this week, 21-year-old actress Millie Bobby Brown made headlines for pushing back against online criticism that she was “ageing badly”. “(People) act like I’m supposed to stay frozen in time, like I should still look the way I did on Stranger Things season one. And because I don’t, I’m now a target,” she said on Mar 4. 

Brown is but the latest example highlighting that gendered ageism isn’t just an issue for older women – girls face scrutiny even before they’ve hit adulthood. It’s a stark reminder of how deeply ingrained and absurd beauty standards for women have become.

Thinking about The Substance had inspired me, too, to reflect upon my own journey: I once felt insecure about my tanned skin and wavy hair, and in my teenage years subjected myself to numerous expensive, tedious straightening treatments to conform to societal standards. Only in recent years have I come to appreciate my features as uniquely mine – deserving of elevation, not alteration.

As the film suggests, beauty standards are a losing battle. Beauty, by its very nature, is transient and not multifaceted. It is diverse, personal and ever-changing. 

The only way to win is to opt out – to decentre our value from our appearance, and embrace the idea that we are enough as we are. 

Yanant Aung works in communications and writes about social issues and trends.