“Thirty years ago,” Demi Moore told a wildly enthusiastic Golden Globes audience, “I had a producer tell me that I was a ‘popcorn actress’ and, at that time, I made that mean […] that I could do movies that were successful, that made a lot of money, but that I couldn’t be acknowledged…” The antidote, Moore revealed, was the “magical, bold, courageous, out-of-the-box, absolutely bonkers script” – a script which has since transmogrified into The Substance.
The irony is Moore’s reductive pigeonholing is not dissimilar to the Golden Globe’s treatment of The Substance. Whilst the film has garnered critical acclaim, it’s worth noting two categories for which The Substance was in contention: ‘Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy’ and ‘Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy.’ Though certain prosthetics donned by Margaret Qualley do indeed defy gravity, I’m guessing The Substance isn’t hitting the ‘Musical’ criteria. So it’s a comedy? Really?
The Substance hits some wickedly comedic beats (one word: shrimp). But what in The Substance bars it from ‘Best Motion Picture – Drama’? Admittedly, the film was nominated for ‘Best Screenplay’, with Coralie Fargeat receiving a nomination for ‘Best Director of a Motion Picture.’ But the damage is done. Horror is not drama. Apparently.
Which is ludicrous, not least because ‘drama’ encompasses any and all dramatic works. The antithesis of ‘drama’ cannot be ‘comedy’ as the binary so often pedalled would have you believe. Though many might have forgotten it, the opposite of ‘comedy’ is in fact ‘tragedy.’ This slippage enforces the common notion of comedy as inferior to tragedy. More concerningly, it implies that comedies and musicals are not drama at all.
Critical snobbery towards horror is rich, varied, and to paraphrase Frankenstein, still very much aliiiiiive. Only six horror films have ever been nominated for ‘Best Picture’ at the Oscars – and only one was victorious (for trivia fans: Silence of the Lambs in 1991). Sure, there’s a recent uptick in horror’s claim to artstry, courtesy of thematically-minded A24 bludgeonings. But where is mainstream adulation for I Saw The TV Glow? Or Robert Morgan’s Stopmotion? Why was AMC’s Interview with the Vampire snubbed in yet another awards season? Not only does Jacob Anderson’s lack of nominations merit a tantrum of Lestat proportions, it is damning proof horror is still overlooked.
Horror isn’t the only dowdy stepsister when it comes to awards season. There is also the tricksy Oscar category of ‘Best Animated Feature Film.’ This was created after more than sixty years, when the rise of Disney’s competitors provided a large enough nominee pool. Product of necessity though the category is, it raises the same question as the no doubt belly-laugh-inducing romp The Substance: why is genre the be-all and end-all of a piece of art?
In the case of animation, the simple answer is: it shouldn’t. 2022 saw the nominations of Guillermo del Toros’ Pinocchio and inventive mockumentary Marcel the Shell With Shoes On. A regular contender in this category is acclaimed co-founder of Studio Ghibli, Hayao Miyazaki. While animation is dimensions away from live-action, the fact remains these exceptional films are excluded from ‘Best Picture.’ That’s ‘Best Picture’, mind you; not ‘Best Live-Action Picture.’ I would never advocate for such a rebranding (least of all because it sounds ridiculous). Yet I cannot help but wonder whether making a sideshow of one medium writes inferiority into its DNA.
Moore’s acceptance speech warns against restrictive, binary approaches to film. Someone is one kind of actor and one kind of actor only. A movie is a “popcorn film” and nothing more. If I can add one more lesson to the countless imparted by The Substance, it’s that such divisions are, at best, irritating, and at worst, obstructive in both the production and consumption of art. In an industry groaning under the weight of tired reboots and 2D that really earns its name, surely strange amorphous films are just what we need? Much like the thing lurking under Elizabeth Sparkle’s skin, “out-of-the-box, absolutely bonkers” masterworks like The Substance must keep pushing against strictures of genre.
