The majority of the body horror in Sanguine consists of the main character ripping off her own skin. Underneath that? More skin, slowly corroding and regenerating over and over again. Those surface level wounds somehow feel akin to my experience watching the film. It was in the vein of something I would love, but there was still a lot to be desired underneath that thin layer of flesh.
Sanguine opens with what looks like a close up image of veins bursting, then a close shot of a burger being assembled. There is a jarring sequence in which a young fast food employee snaps, bashes in the head of a rude influencer, then kills himself by bashing his own head in with the cash register. After all of that skull bashing, we meet the heroine of the story, Margot.
Margot is an ER intern and placed with a group of other interns under the care of their stern boss. There isn’t a lot we learn about Margot, other than she loves her dad and loves medicine. She moves to the hospital, where all the interns dorm together. She fosters a budding romance, a rivalry and most importantly she develops a mysterious illness.
She wakes up covered in blood, she begins to develop lumps of skin that she decides to burn off with some sort of acidic chemical. She peels off bloody scabs. She starts to develop violent tendencies towards her romantic suitors, which consist of her mild mannered male friend and her intense female rival. By the end, she fully succumbs to illness and a mandate is issued that people under 25 cannot work, blaming the illness on stress.
As I filed out of the crowded Cineum IMAX theater, people spoke a variety of languages around me but they all said the same thing. Everyone was comparing Sanguine to The Substance. To review this film and not consider the discourse surrounding this film’s likeness to The Substance would be ignoring the bloody, female-directed French body horror elephant in the room. There were similarities. A scene where her back rips open (still only revealing more skin underneath), a scene where she lies on the floor naked in a fetal position. It felt Substance-esque.
However, I don’t think this is the main issue of the film. What people are forgetting is that The Substance itself was full of direct references to other horror films, that’s the beauty of it. How can you fault this film for feeling similar to another horror movie, when some of the best parts of The Substance are directly referential? Borrowing is not the issue and how that borrowing is received is based on how you do it. If it’s a direct homage like The Substance, it’s chic. If it feels unintentional, it’s derivative. Since I love body horror, I didn’t find the concept or themes similar to The Substance whatsoever. There’s no gothic doubling. It takes place in France, when The Substance is heavily themed around Hollywood. Centering your critique on comparing these two films is like comparing apples to blood oranges. (Convenient that there’s a kind of orange so apt for a comparison of two horror films.)
Sanguine isn’t The Substance. It’s not Titane. And I didn’t want it to be. To compare these films too heavily simply because they’re all female led body horror films directed by French women feels reductive. At first I fell victim to the comparison too, but upon further retrospection these films couldn’t be more different thematically, environmentally, character wise, etc. My suspicion is that the rampant comparisons arise not just from the genre, but perhaps from the gendered directorial context. It feels easy for people to compare female led horror films in a space that remains predominantly male dominated.
Horror is such a saturated genre that crossover of certain elements is inevitable, so why complain? A truly “original” movie is impossible. If you think about the vast amount of films that have ever existed, everything has been done before. That’s kind of beautiful. Filmmakers are like chefs: all the ingredients already exist, it’s just a matter of how to use them. Derivative, copycat films are out there, sure, but this is certainly not one of those. To characterize this as a copy of The Substance bars you from any deeper thought about the redeeming qualities of this directorial debut.
To Corroller’s credit, there are some unforgettable images in this film. This film has one of the most shocking birth scenes I’ve ever seen (I say this with all love to the car baby in Titane). As Margot helps one of her old patients deliver a baby in a club bathroom, we see the birth from the POV of the mutated baby inside the womb. It’s hilariously vaginal and obtuse.
The film also shines in its use of repetition. In the opening scene, where the cashier hits his own head on the counter, we see his head get more and more caved in with every repetition of the act. There’s a montage where Margot repeatedly burns her mutated skin. When she finally is unable to burn her skin and has to turn to other tactics to keep her illness at bay, it’s even worse to watch. We got accustomed to watching her routine. The change unlocks a primal fear, breaking a pattern. Repetition relies on our expectations and by repeating an act, it breeds expectation. It’s a great visual horror device. When a sequence of repetition is broken, it’s scary. The film uses repetitive acts to the best of its abilities.
While the film had some standout moments, overall I found it difficult to ascertain what exactly it was trying to say. The themes are a bit convoluted and even though I’ve digested the movie thoroughly, I still can’t figure it out. Is it about burn out? Is it about the job crisis impacting young careers? It’s difficult to tell. It doesn’t help that Margot is a relatively blank vessel for this violence. A body horror movie needs a protagonist where they’re the absolute worst person for this situation to happen to. Their own flaws or hubris should cause these physical changes. I wish she was more active, rather than passive. Everything just happens to her.
It left me wondering, what did she do to deserve this? She lacks fatal flaws, so her slow spiral into monsterdom didn’t make me feel any catharsis. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she works hard. I wish she was worse, messier or more tragic. I wish she was less practical about how she deals with the horrors of her body. She feels a little too in control. A lot of the things happening to her also felt random and not closely tied to patients she’s treated. If we saw her treating more people, seeing more weird ER cases, the film could’ve had an opportunity to let us preview her symptoms early. She treats only a few patients, and I wish we’d seen more of this “mystery disease” affecting young people through her day to day work. This movie suffers from the classic doctor media trope: they do anything but their jobs. Sure, there’s some medical care being done but it’s not centered in the routines of the hospital. I found myself wishing it was.
There were some horror mechanics that could’ve used tweaking and some small plot holes. If she gets infected by a patient, why isn’t she infecting anyone else? She kisses people, she lives in close proximity to people. Surely she’d spread this disease that she only got through proximity to a patient. She screams a lot in her room, but no one ever really checks on her that much. I found it hard to believe her friends didn’t hear her screaming since they all live next door to one another. It was unbelievable that her friends don’t find out she’s ill until she goes full psycho. These issues could’ve been better addressed, I think.
However, despite all my criticisms, the thing to remember about this film is that it isn’t dull. If you want something to talk about, go see it. If you want a badge of honor for keeping your eyes open during one of the weirdest birth scenes I’ve ever seen, I’ll give you one. If you want to support a directorial debut, you should.
This film has flaws. Plenty. But if you reach inside the body of this movie, through the plot hole sized cavity in the patient on the operating table, you won’t be hard pressed to find a highly genuine beating heart. You have to commend the filmmaker’s intention to try and make something fun. If you have the guts to sort through the gory mush and blood, you can see the work put into this film.