Coralie Fargeat returns with her second feature, The Substance, which is a wild, yet contained, sci-fi premise that takes direct aim at the beauty standards of women and the violence it can cause to one’s mind, body and soul.

Fargeat’s follow up to her feature debut (Revenge) is much less of a slow burn, but is similarly made whole by a dazzling third act that sends you out of the theater buzzing. The Substance comes out of the gate hot and is all up in your face, quite literally, as some close ups will feel like they are going to burst through the screen. The film follows an “aged out” actress, Elisabeth Sparkle!, who is hanging on to the last job a woman of a certain age is allowed to hold onto, even if they were America’s favorite when there weren’t as many wrinkle lines on their respective face. After an accident lands her in the hospital, a beautifuly boyish nurse offers Sparkle a potential solution in a mysterious message that leads her to the titular substance.

The substance will let you walk the earth as a young beautiful body, the catch being that this new version of you is hatched out of your back and you must return to your old self after a week to let the new you cellularly recharges. You share a soul, but maybe not a mind, but the particulars beyond the sentence above don’t really matter, until, well, they do. The allure of being young has its consequence in The Substance, but you can never really blame anyone but yourself; or so says the mysterious voice on the other end of the helpline.

Fargeat wears her influences on her sleeve, while never failing to blaze her own path, which she does exceptionally well for a film that is actually quite short on locations, but full of ambition. You will feel the vibes of Charlie Kaufman, Stanley Kubrick, David Cronenberg, and Quentin Tarantino (among others) as you watch this deranged fairy tale unfold, all while never feeling like Fargeat is ripping anyone off. She’s still got a style of her own (has anyone filmed a woman’s face covered in blood more beautifully, it’s becoming her Spielberg Face) while also having a demented sense of humor that feels fully unleashed by the end of this film. Her work with the three core actors here is also top notch, getting them to dive head first into this world that is clearly heightened to the ceilings, but feel completely natural to the funhouse version of Hollywood she’s skewering.

Demi Moore stars as the aforementioned Sparkle, and man is she going for it. Sparkle’s sparkle gets as dim as it gets, and Moore doesn’t blink playing that sorrow, while also turning it up to eleven with some jealous rage that would make Glenn Close proud. She might be out performed, though, by her younger self Sue, played with gleeful sex goddess energy by Margaret Qualley. Fargeat hilariously drools all over Qualley with her camera, hitting it’s final act apex with a delirious montage of Sue becoming a blazing star. Not to be outdone is Dennis Quaid as the sleaziest asshole on the planet that you can’t help but laugh at as they bumble through life being old, terrible and having completely unchecked power.

Fargeat gets the last laugh in the end, sucking casual viewers to go along for the ride with her, and I imagine laughing all the way to the bank at the suckers who rolled into the film for the T&A as she leads them to the hilarious, gory and delirious finale. Hell of a final shot, too.

Don’t wait so long to make your next feature, Fargeat.