'Anora' vs. 'The Substance'
Power, Transformation, and the Female Body
As Women’s History Month comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on two of the most striking films of the year—Anora and The Substance. Though wildly different in tone and style, both films dig into one of the most enduring struggles in women’s history: bodily autonomy. Each tells the story of a woman fighting for control over her own existence, whether through sex work and financial independence (Anora) or the literal creation of a “perfected” self (The Substance). One is grounded in stark reality, the other drenched in body horror, but both are ultimately about power—who has it, who takes it, and what it costs to reclaim it.
Bodily Autonomy & Transformation
At their core, both Anora and The Substance explore the female body as a site of negotiation, transaction, and, in many ways, violence.
In Anora, the titular character (Mikey Madison) lives on the fringes of power, using sex work as a means to control her own life—until she gets caught in the orbit of extreme wealth. Her quick-thinking hustle is inspiring, but we see how little control she actually has when money and influence outweigh her agency. The film subtly asks: How free can a woman be in a world where her value is constantly dictated by others?
On the other hand, The Substance literalizes this battle. Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) undergoes a grotesque process to create a “better” version of herself, a concept that speaks directly to the pressures of perfection, beauty standards, and the commodification of women’s bodies. Unlike Anora, which offers a gritty reality, The Substance leans into horror. Nevertheless, both films force us to consider the same unsettling truth: women’s autonomy is always under siege, whether through economic power structures or invasive physical transformation.
The Role of Nudity: Agency or Exploitation?
Both Anora and The Substance feature nudity, but they handle it in strikingly different ways. Given the themes of bodily autonomy running through both films, it’s worth asking: Does the nudity empower the characters, or does it reinforce their lack of control?
In Anora, nudity is frequent but never voyeuristic. Anora’s job as a stripper and sex worker naturally involves baring her body, but the way the film presents it is matter-of-fact rather than exploitative. The camera doesn’t linger to titillate; instead, it captures her work as part of her world. There’s a contrast between the control she appears to have in these moments—commanding attention, using her body on her own terms—and the growing realization that the power dynamics around her are far greater than she imagined.
The Substance, however, takes nudity into body horror territory. The film’s themes of transformation and perfection make the exposure of the female body unsettling rather than sensual. The grotesque nature of the changes happening to the protagonist (both versions of her) make the nudity feel more like a commentary on how women’s bodies are constantly being reshaped, consumed, and discarded in pursuit of an unattainable ideal. Unlike Anora, where nudity is part of a profession, The Substance turns it into something monstrous—forcing us to question who benefits when women’s bodies are endlessly modified.
Ageism in The Substance—On and Off Screen
One of the most unsettling aspects of The Substance is how it weaponizes ageism. Demi Moore’s character undergoes a brutal process to create a younger, “better” version of herself, reflecting the relentless pressure women face to remain youthful in order to stay relevant. The horror of the film is in the self-destruction required to achieve this ideal—a theme that feels all too real in Hollywood.
This irony is even more striking given how ageism seemed to play out in real life at the Oscars. Mikey Madison, who won Best Actress for Anora, faced backlash—not for her performance, but for her age. The criticism that a 24-year-old actress was somehow undeserving, despite Hollywood’s long history of awarding young women for breakout roles, only underscores the industry’s hypocrisy. Meanwhile, Demi Moore’s Oscar loss felt, to many, like a reflection of The Substance’s own commentary on how Hollywood treats women past a certain age.
Social Commentary & Cultural Impact
Both films engage with long-standing feminist concerns but do so in ways that feel uniquely modern.
Anora speaks to the transactional nature of relationships in a hyper-capitalist world. The film doesn’t shame sex work, but it does critique the illusion of control in spaces where money dictates power. Even when Anora makes choices, there’s always a larger system deciding her fate. In a post-MeToo era where discussions around agency and financial independence are louder than ever, the film resonates deeply.
The Substance goes straight for the jugular in its critique of perfection and self-destruction. The idea of consuming oneself to create an “improved” version is a nightmarish metaphor for every anti-aging product, diet culture trend, and societal demand for women to shrink, change, or disappear. It’s a horror film in the most literal sense—not just because of its grotesque visuals but because of how real its themes feel.
Final Thoughts: A Fitting End to Women’s History Month
Watching these two films back to back feels like seeing two sides of the same coin—one raw and grounded, the other surreal and terrifying, but both speaking to the same fight. Women’s bodies have always been contested ground, whether through economic dependency, beauty standards, or physical control. Anora and The Substance make that battle impossible to ignore.
These films serve as a reminder that autonomy, agency, and power are never freely given—they must be fought for. But real empowerment isn’t just about resisting control; it’s about setting your own standards, refusing to be defined by expectations that don’t serve you. When you decide what holds value, you take back the power that others try to wield over you. The real question is—whose standards are you living by?
Chilling!