Ageing and Moore

I came of age with the Brat Pack - Judd Nelson, Charlie Sheen, Molly Ringwald, Andie MacDowell, Ally Sheedy and Demi Moore among them. Moore never appealed to me as much as Ally and Andie, but every young woman wanted to draw in men the way she did. "Indecent Proposal" was the film everyone was talking about at the time, and to this day, makes me second-guess how men are treated in the workplace.

Fast forward to 2024. Demi is in a new French-directed film called "The Substance" and nominated for a Golden Globe*. She was also nominated for "Ghost" in 1991, the film that defined her (she says she still has the pottery she made, badly, from the film) but for which she lost out to Julia Roberts and her turn in "Pretty Woman". That was just bad luck, a year packed with memorable performances including from fellow Brat Packer MacDowell in "Green Card".

How ironic that she would be competing for the Globe 33 years later, this time portraying a woman who births a second identity in the guise of McDowell's daughter Margaret Quigley. And how lovely that this time, Moore won. Especially after a fraught, typical Hollywood female history - a producer telling her she'd never be more than a "popcorn" actress, the battle with weight and appearance (she says she bicycled 30 miles each way to Paramount while filming J.I. Jane), not to mention the public dumping by the less talented Ashton Kutcher.

I am not a film critic, and frankly spent a good portion of "The Substance" wanting to vomit, but when I paid attention I was riveted. Moore delivers a compelling performance sans dialogue, except sparingly, along with killer costumes and attitude. A year younger than I, I am not sure that my body parts would look half that good filmed close up (but then, I'm not a movie star). Moore, even ageing, is better than most regular women half her age.

Yet that is the point. The film is a searing commentary on the price women must pay to get ahead in Hollywood. A Jane Fonda-esque jazzercise type tv instructor is replaced for the younger Quigley, though she is but a product of Moore's character, Elisabeth. I won't divulge too much, except to say the title derives from a product used to bring about this youthfulness, if administered correctly and regularly. As I said, I had to overcome squeamishness to get through the film.

Like Moore, I have worried that my best years are behind me, yet as a writer this seems foolish. It took me until about 2022 to really start worrying, my 60th birthday dovetailing with misogyny-cum-ageism in a way you have to live through to appreciate. There is a palpable distaste for women as we age, a conflation of grey hair or turkey jowels with bumbling irrelevance. How many bus drivers have snapped at me as I've boarded a bus of late? Not all, but sometimes the tone is, "Just get on, dumb woman." My grandmother once asked if I would wite about the abject ageism and sexism she experienced daily on L.A. buses.

So thank you, Demi. I doubt that the world will change on a dime or on the price of a movie ticket. The film was directed by a French woman, not the typical American man director trying to sleep with 30 year-olds. But that's the point - women are being let into the club, excelling, and are forces to stay. Men are taking note and are wiling to throw us our laurels.

*Since publication, Moore has won the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical and been nominated for an Oscar.