A battle of flesh old and new takes centre stage in The Substance, a squelchy indictment of the impossible beauty standards placed upon women that is played out in a body horror tit-for-tat not for the squeamish.

In true uncompromising body-horror fashion, The Substance “goes there”. Director Coralie Fargeat (Revenge) has no qualm in delivering a gore and nudity infused horror film about age, sex, fame, and how women are coerced into destroying themselves for the salivating masses awaiting their pound of flesh.

What is equally impressive – and shockingly so – is the lengths lead actors Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley are willing to go in helping Fargeat achieve her vision, baring body and soul in their portrayal of one being torn into two.

The Substance stars Moore as Elizabeth Sparkle, a once in-demand leading-lady who becomes a TV aerobics star. When slimy network executive Harvey (Dennis Quaid) fires Elizabeth on her 50th birthday, she desperately turns to “The Substance”, a black-market drug that upon application literally births a younger, sexier, and more vibrant version of herself named “Sue”. Quickly these two forms become enemies as the viciously aspirational Sue’s star ascends to the cost of Elizabeth’s body and sanity.

Fargeant delivers a gruesome and wickedly funny spectacle of when self-loathing and vanity take on physical forms and then collide in a mash of flesh tortured and unbound. Fargeant’s unflinching gaze throughout The Substance is incredibly intimate and sometimes uncomfortable, pushing-in close to her actors faces and bodies to the point where scenes such as Quaid smacking on a prawn-lunch with wide-mouth tartar-sauce dripping glee is as revolting as the body-horror.

The nudity in The Substance is equally gaudy; a role of function rather than titillation that reaches levels of absurdity that will make some squirm more than the gore-filled horror. But then again that is the point of The Substance; the masses demand flesh and Fargeant delivers with gleeful overabundance.

At the centre of all this glorious excess is Moore and Qualley, who as two-sides of the same meat-suit deliver exceptional turns. Qualley embodies the pristine perfection of lusted upon youth unscarred by the frailty of time to the point of selfish exploitation. Moore, meanwhile, delivers one of her best performances as a discarded beauty whose self-worth is corrupted by smiling jackal gatekeepers who can navigate a career based on the compass of their erections.

If there is any complaint to be made about The Substance it is that Fargeat’s inability to restrain the excess of her body-horror shenanigans can overload the senses, yet such is the side effect of The Substance. Take it if you dare.