THOUGHT FACTORY: VALIDATION COMES WITH EXPIRY

by Yashika Begwani April 18 2025, 12:00 am Estimated Reading Time: 6 mins, 39 secs

The Fleeting Follower Game – Featuring “The Substance” & “Nayak” (The Hero) — a cultural reflection on vanity, image, and the addictive, ephemeral nature of fame in today’s influencer age, by Yashika Begwani.

This article explores the parallels between modern-day influencer culture and cinematic portrayals of fleeting fame in The Substance and Satyajit Ray’s classic Nayak (The Hero). Through sharp cultural commentary and vivid storytelling, it dissects the obsessive pursuit of digital validation, body image ideals, and the emotional cost of relevance in a world dominated by curated personas. Perfect for readers interested in media critique, film analysis, influencer psychology, and digital culture, this piece bridges generational anxieties around fame, aging, and authenticity. Optimized for topics like “influencer burnout,” “digital fame,” and “cinematic takes on vanity,” it speaks to the soul behind the screen.

The Modern Influencer & The Digital Applause

“It needs to be perfect — the background, the lights, the clothes, the focus,” quips Rishika, a 29-year-old social media influencer. The stakes are high. Validation — in the form of likes, shares, brand deals et al — must be sought after at all costs. Now it’s not about the follower count alone, you see. It’s about the perfect picture she’s painted of herself.

Or take Rishi. He’s 30, an entrepreneur from Silicon Valley. High social media following. “I need a change,” he says. “Maybe a quirky haircut.” He puts up a post. Some fans, some female followers swoon.

Validation at its peak. Attention is sought. Instant ego boost — the digital applause we crave.

Buying Attention at All Costs – Would you consume the Substance?

I recently watched the critically acclaimed and much-talked-about The Substance — in an Ozempic-struck world, it feels like a necessary mirror. The protagonist? She’s a star. Her name — Elisabeth Sparkle (of course, because why not; she’s exuding charm everywhere). Her name is etched on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

But then — in showbiz — age isn’t just a number. It’s a reckoning. Especially for women. Increasing age often equals decreasing demand.

And so, even after a misogynistic boss (who owns a YouTube channel, mind you) pushes her out, she must get the validation back. The accolades. The eyeballs. She’s worked hard for it. She deserves it.

Enter: The Substance. A secret, black-market scientific formula that promises a new you — a younger, sexier, fresher version of you. The catch? It’s not a metaphor. It’s literal. You ingest it, and quite literally, out of your body is birthed a new one. From Elisabeth’s body is born Sue.

Yes, Sue. Young. Sexy. Sought after. We must remember though: they are one. One soul. Different covers.

Sue has those dance moves. She garners attention. She becomes the dream. This is Elisabeth reborn. She’s still living her dream — only through another body.

But there’s a system. Every seven days, the bodies must switch. While one lives, the other recharges — tucked away, hidden, waiting. It’s their little secret. Or rather, her little secret.

The Rise and Fall of the Influence Game

It reminded me of the sought-after Mr. Arindam Chatterjee from Nayak (1966, Satyajit Ray). Arindam — a struggling theatre actor — but charming (that’s young Uttam Kumar for you). He’s offered a film role. He’s torn. His mentor, Shankar Da, is dead against it. “No films,” he says.

There’s a moment. The pyre is burning in the background. Arindam, reflecting, turns to Jyoti and asks: “Do you believe in rebirth?” It’s his time. Time to be reborn — not as an actor, but as a star.

Much like Elisabeth Sparkle becomes Sue, Arindam will become the Arindam — the star, the icon. From underdog theatre to stardom, fame, money. (Think Shah Rukh Khan and his “nobody to superstar” story.)

Elisabeth, now Sue. Arindam, the Nayak. Both on their rise. Sue’s subscriber count is skyrocketing. YouTube numbers rising by the second. She’s close to hosting the most sought-after NYE show.

Arindam’s pulling crowds into theatres. Tickets? Sold out. People dying for his autograph.

Validation. Fame. Followers. — Give me more.

Rishika’s brand deals roll in. Partnerships. Paid collabs. “People recognize me in cafés, in malls,” she says. “It’s a good feeling.”

Elisabeth and Arindam — both at their peak. More validation. More fame.

But then, Amitabh Bachchan once recalled: What if one day there’s no crowd? No one waiting outside my Juhu bungalow? Rajesh Khanna echoed his thought: …until one day, the flowers stop coming your way.

Cut to The Substance: A scene where roses are sent to Elisabeth — by her now ex-boss. A subtle signal: her time is up. “All the best, farewell.” And another scene — roses sent to Sue. “You’ll rock it at the NYE night!”

Same roses. One shouts: Get lost. The other whispers: Good luck.

Sustaining Relevance in an Image-Obsessed World

We are, quite frankly, an image-obsessed society. The gender? Almost doesn’t matter.

Sexy bodies. Six-pack abs. Wrinkle-free skin. Look good. Feel good.

The price? Crash diets. Protein powders. The rise of gyms. Products, protein-rich snacks, all selling a dream. The dream body.

Our bodies are both tools of attraction and homes of destruction. We’re painfully aware of the flab, the kilos, the wrinkle, the under-eye line. The imperfection often overpowers the authenticity.

The price (more often than not) — crash diets, protein powders, the rise of gyms. Products, protein-rich snacks, all selling a dream. The dream body. In a sense, our bodies are both tools for attraction and homes for destruction. We’re awfully aware of those flabs, those extra kilos, that extra line below the under-eye.

The imperfection often overpowers the authenticity.

You enter a party, and someone says, “Damn, you don’t look your age — you look so young.” You flush.

Then, back home, in front of that bathroom mirror, you stand naked — much like Elisabeth in that opening scene. First the compliment charges you up. Then you look closely — the chin, the wrinkle, the pimple. And smash.

Your age, your body, your beauty — all staring back at you.

Mukund Da, in Nayak, is a veteran actor. Once on a high, now fading. When Arindam — not a star yet — gets a break, Mukund Da still shines. He does the frills, the drama, the works.

Until one day, the tables turn.

Mukund Da, now old, frail, forgotten — lands at superstar Arindam’s door. Almost begging. For a role. For relevance.

After a pause, he says: “There was once a throne… Kintu now, I am overthrown.”

The Mirror – How long can you hold Attention?

This fleeting sense of validation — will the throne go? Will the followers leave? Will the fame fade? Will the flowers stop coming your way?

Where does it all go?

We’re all trapped, in a way. Under the weight of branding, of being relevant, being seen, being heard.

The solution? Live it up — sure. But be sure to come back.

To the close-knit circle. The one that’s judgment-free.

So that even when it fades, you don’t.

Because influencers must influence. And fame will always be sought.

But the soul must breathe — without The Substance.