**Part 2: Watch Death Becomes Her Instead – The Feminist Horror Comedy That Still Slays**

**Why Death Becomes Her Deserves the Spotlight**

If you're looking for a film that actually explores beauty standards, aging, and society's obsession with eternal youth in a way that's entertaining, insightful, and unforgettable, then skip the overhyped disappointment that is The Substance and revisit the 1992 cult classic Death Becomes Her. This satirical gem, directed by Robert Zemeckis, doesn't just hold up in 2025—it arguably hits even harder today. Unlike The Substance, which promises a grotesque, thought-provoking dive into feminist horror but ends up delivering a shallow, inconsistent narrative, Death Becomes Her serves up sharp commentary wrapped in irresistible camp, with characters that are as memorable as they are despicable.

A Riveting Storyline Fueled by Spite

Death Becomes Her follows the twisted rivalry between Madeline Ashton (played by Meryl Streep), a fading actress desperate to hold onto her youth and relevance, and Helen Sharp (Goldie Hawn), a self-loathing writer who lost her fiancé (and not for the first time) to Madeline and is hellbent on revenge. The two women find themselves entangled in a spiraling chase for immortality, spurred on by a literal magic potion that promises eternal youth at a devastating cost. It's a premise that immediately sets the stage for absurdity, but the brilliance of the film lies in its ability to balance the ridiculous with the relatable.

**What The Substance Gets Wrong**

Where The Substance fails is in its execution. From the outset, the film loudly proclaims its intention to dissect the societal pressure women face to stay young, but it never earns that depth. Instead, it leans heavily on stylistic choices and shock value, hoping that flashy visuals will substitute for storytelling. Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), the lead character, is barely developed beyond the surface. Her motivations feel vague and inconsistent, and the relationships around her lack emotional resonance. If you strip away the film's central theme, there's almost nothing left. No character depth, no emotional investment, no real plot to speak of.

Rich Characters with Real Motivations

In contrast, Death Becomes Her delivers a story that works even if you don't engage with its deeper meaning. The rivalry between Madeline and Helen is funny, petty, cruel, and surprisingly poignant. These women are not good people, but they are richly drawn. Madeline is vain, jealous, and manipulative, clinging to her fading fame and youth by seducing younger men and berating her alcoholic husband, Ernest Melville (Bruce Willis), into submission. Helen, repeatedly a victim of Madeline's cruelty, is transformed into a bitter schemer willing to sacrifice her soul for a second chance at revenge through youth and beauty. These aren't characters we admire, but we understand them. Their flaws drive the plot, and their spite is both entertaining and illuminating.

Subtle Messaging Done Right

The character interactions in Death Becomes Her do the heavy lifting in establishing the film's themes. Unlike The Substance, which opts for a heavy-handed approach to messaging, Zemeckis' film lets its social commentary unfold through dialogue, action, and visual metaphor. Madeline and Helen don't sit around explaining their trauma or lamenting their lost youth; they weaponize it. Their competition escalates from passive-aggression to full-blown supernatural warfare. What makes this movie is these two women and their willingness to literally destroy themselves in the pursuit of destroying the other and the audience is there for every gloriously absurd moment.

The Power of Camp in Horror

One of the most impressive aspects of Death Becomes Her is how it uses camp to enhance its message rather than distract from it. The film leans into its absurdity with confidence, never apologizing for its exaggerated tone or bizarre plot twists. When Madeline falls down the stairs and walks away with a twisted neck and broken limbs, it's both horrifying and hilarious. When Helen gets shot clean through the stomach and doesn't die, it's shocking but also strangely empowering. These over-the-top actions end in over-the-top results. It makes sense. It helps the audience remember that nothing happening on screen should be happening in real life. That goes for the reanimation, the rivalry, and importantly the underlying societal issues that fuel Helen and Madeline.

Visual Storytelling That Elevates the Narrative

The film's visual flair also deserves recognition. From the gothic interiors to the dazzling costumes to the now-revolutionary special effects (later used in 1994’s Jurassic Park), every frame of Death Becomes Her is meticulously crafted. The visual style supports the story and reinforces the themes, unlike The Substance, which often feels like it's trying too hard to be edgy without a clear visual language. Likewise, Coralie Fargeat contradicts herself in her desire to critique Hollywood without ever shooting a meaningful frame outside of France. Death Becomes Her knows what it is, fully commits, and executes, resulting in a cohesive and unforgettable experience.

A Surprising Emotional Payoff

Beyond its aesthetics and satire, Death Becomes Her has something else The Substance sorely lacks: genuine emotional payoff. As Madeline and Helen find themselves cursed with immortality, forced to coexist in their decaying bodies, the film delivers a surprisingly profound message. Immortality, it turns out, is a curse when your soul can't evolve along with your body. In the final moments, we see the consequences of their choices play out in a darkly comedic but undeniably sobering way. It's a reminder that chasing eternal youth at all costs leads not to happiness, but to emptiness.

The Final Verdict: Embrace the Undead Divas

Death Becomes Her doesn't pretend to be a morality tale, but it offers a sharper critique of beauty culture than most modern horror films attempting the same. It's smart without being smug, funny without undercutting its stakes, and visually arresting without sacrificing substance for style. In short, it's everything The Substance tried and failed to be.

If you're craving feminist horror that actually delivers—with real (but terrible) characters, biting commentary, and a story you want to follow—skip The Substance and watch Death Becomes Her. Because when it comes to dissecting the cost of beauty, immortality, and spite, Death Becomes Her remains the gold standard.