A Different Man, 2024.
Written and Directed by Aaron Schimberg.
Starring Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, Adam Pearson, Miles G. Jackson, Neal Davidson, Billy Griffith, John Klacsmann, John Keating, C. Mason Wells, Corey Taylor, Danielle Burgos, Sammy Mena, Jon Dieringer, Malachi Weir, David Joseph Regelmann, Nina Marie White, Doug Barron, Stephee Bonifacio, Juney Smith, Lucy Kaminsky, Owen Kline, Jarvis Tomdio, Liana Runcie, Bruce Kitzmeyer, Eleanore Pienta, Charlie Korsmo, and Michael Shannon.
SYNOPSIS:
After undergoing a facial reconstructive surgery, Edward becomes fixated on an actor in a stage production based on his former life.
Life is what you make of it. In writer/director Aaron Schimberg’s heady and darkly amusing A Different Man, Edward (Sebastian Stan under prosthetic makeup until he isn’t) has a facially different condition that has, understandably, made him a nervous and negative individual to be around. Even when acting in an infomercial demonstrating how able-bodied individuals should behave and what kind of language they should use across all kinds of situations of day-to-day life working with facially different coworkers, Edward overacts his part, playing into the part he has projected onto society of wanting him to play, which is something more along the lines of a Frankenstein creature.
Oswald (Adam Pearson) lives with a similar condition (he has neurofibromatosis in real life, a condition that doesn’t always manifest externally, but in this particular case, means the tumors grow on the outside of the face) yet is far more extroverted and upbeat, quick to cheerfully join into a conversation without so much as a second thought of it people will accept him or react with disgust. At one point, he even performs some karaoke. He walks into a room, and it instantly perks up, with more slowly being revealed about him speaking to a greater life lived so far than some able-bodied people out there.
There is also a woman named Ingrid (Renate Reinsve) who has ambitions of directing stage plays, naturally coming to use apartment neighbor Edward as inspiration. She also promises him a role. Questionably (or perhaps fittingly since her writing is based only on what she knows and sees), this play is constructed as the typical disability tragedy story: a man who loved a woman but was so far stuck inside a body (specifically, a face here) he couldn’t appreciate himself, that it’s not necessarily a surprise that there is often a barrier between them connecting on a deeper emotional level.
That’s also not to ignore a reasonably agreeable truth that existing with conventional good looks is essentially a life cheat code, making the act of instigating flirtation and romance easier and without fear of rejection. Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean someone is changing the core of their personality. The play seems destined to be as bleak as some of the usual offerings centered on disabled individuals until Oswald emerges.
To say how these two cross paths and what ensues would be a disservice to the viewer and also unnecessary since A Different Man is in a constant state of measurably expanding and raising more questions somehow without collapsing underneath itself. Knowing that Aaron Schimberg also has a disability (a bilateral cleft lip and palate) and that he and Adam Pearson have previously collaborated on the brilliant Chained for Life (which similarly explores romantic friction between the able-bodied and facially different), it’s a given that A Different Man isn’t going to function solely as misery material.
It’s also almost impossible to completely wrap one’s mind around everything the film is getting at surrounding identity, disability, romance, and how to take ownership of one’s happiness and life. Filled with so many ideas, A Different Man somewhat goes off the rails in its final 20 minutes trying to drive home one of its points. There are occasional aspects of A Different Man that are a bit too on the nose (such as Edward becoming a model following his transformation into Guy), and the third act loses its way. Nevertheless, it recovers with a haunting final line.
Intriguingly, Aaron Schimberg (and Adam Pearson, who almost certainly had some creative input despite not being officially credited writer) also doesn’t take what could be considered the expected route of using a facially different stand-in for the scenes where Sebastian Stan’s Edward has yet to take a chance on groundbreaking facial reconstruction techniques and medicine. As for the prosthetic makeup, it is so damn convincing that even though the film states upfront Adam Pearson only plays Oswald (and my knowledge of what he looks like), it still required a quick bit of research to confirm who was playing who in the first act.
Yes, this is a film where a man becomes so consumed by his disability and the way certain jerks of the world treat him (something he doesn’t necessarily have the confidence or spark to speak up and put a stop to) that he chooses such a revolutionary process to feel more comfortable going after what he wants. Yet it would also be far too simple to summarize the narrative that way, as the film keeps re-tinking its characters’ roles and thoughts, gradually building up steam as one prolonged punchline. A Different Man is a psychological brain-freeze exploring its themes from multiple angles.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
