Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance is an eye-opening look at beauty standards and the body’s role in Hollywood, but for those who love a good eye-candy moment, there’s Reality+, Coralie Fargeat’s 2015 short film, which takes body obsession to a whole new level. Before the chilling reflections on aging and body dysmorphia in The Substance, Fargeat had already given us a full-throttle exploration of what happens when we have the power to digitally sculpt our bodies into chiseled perfection. And trust me, she didn’t hold back when it came to delivering some seriously handsome men with jaw-dropping physiques.
The Substance Prequel?
In Reality+, the protagonist Vincent (played by Vincent Colombe) undergoes a procedure that allows him to swap between his everyday self and a hyper-masculine, Insta-worthy version of himself—complete with abs so sharp they could cut glass. Watching him morph into his “Vincent+” form is like watching a real-life transformation of a fitness model on steroids (and we’re not talking about the unhealthy kind). The moment he flexes his muscles and tweaks his body shape, it’s like a dream come true for anyone who’s ever wanted to be the walking embodiment of the “no filter” #FitnessGoals hashtag.
But it’s not just the abs; it’s the entire package. When Vincent enters his upgraded form, he’s the epitome of the idealized male body. We’re talking sleek muscle definition, pecs that could bounce quarters off of them, and a jawline so angular it’s practically a weapon. As the movie unfolds, it’s hard not to get distracted by the sheer level of muscle he’s packing, and honestly, who can blame us? The man has a physique that practically screams “I could be a superhero in another universe”—and this isn’t even the movie’s main focus.
Related Post: Olympic Hottie Gus Kenworthy Opens Up on Being a Sexual Person & Body Dysmorphia
There’s something inherently addictive about the over-the-top beauty of Reality+, especially when we get to witness other characters with similarly jaw-dropping bodies. The film is practically a parade of six-packs, biceps, and perfectly sculpted torsos, with Fargeat seemingly intent on showcasing every possible version of the male form that society deems “perfect.” And yet, these bodies, as stunning as they are, are used to underscore the emptiness of chasing perfection. It’s as though the more sculpted they become, the more they reveal the hollowness of these unattainable ideals.
The irony is not lost on the audience: here we are, entranced by these muscle-packed hunks, yet the film’s central message is that our obsession with these “perfect” bodies is ultimately destructive. In a sense, Reality+ uses the allure of these men and their impossibly fit physiques to expose just how artificial this obsession really is. The deeper we go into the film, the more we realize that these bodies, no matter how tempting they may seem, are nothing more than digital constructs—mirages that distort reality and prevent us from accepting the imperfect beauty of our true selves.
But for those of us who simply can’t resist a good look at those sculpted bodies—complete with abs so defined they should be in a museum—Fargeat serves us a feast for the eyes. Every flex, every subtle shift in muscle tone, every moment of masculine perfection is on display, reminding us just how seductive, and equally dangerous, the pursuit of the “ideal” form can be. In the end, Reality+ is a film that leaves us questioning: is the perfect body worth it if we lose ourselves in the process?
So, yes, the men in Reality+ are ridiculously handsome. And yes, their bodies are a work of art. But as Fargeat makes clear, this visual obsession with perfection is a double-edged sword that will make you wonder if we’ve truly gained anything by chasing after the ultimate six-pack.
You can watch the full short film below.
Source: Collider
I enjoyed it. It kept my attention and had a wonderful message to it.