A DIFFERENT MAN - Mark Reviews Movies

A Different Man, A24

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Review by Mark Dujsik | September 19, 2024

The simple way to put it is that A Different Man plays a huge, karmic joke on its main character. This is a very good, if admittedly twisted, gag, to be sure, but in the hands of writer/director Aaron Schimberg, it's also a pointed and thoughtful one about what really makes the core of person, as well as how the world sees someone.

Our man is Edward (Sebastian Stan), who lives with a condition in which multiple non-cancerous tumors have formed, causing a disfigurement of his face. Edward wants to be an actor, and his biggest break thus far is a small role in a workplace training video that's meant to help people treat co-workers with facial differences with respect. When Edward finally sits down to watch that video, there's a noticeable dissonance in it, as the narrator implores viewers to act "normally" around such a co-worker while also suggesting that the bare minimum of polite human interaction is all it takes to be the best that one can be in that situation.

The whole film balances a similar line. Indeed, it balances many, many lines, not only in how portrays two central characters with facial differences, but also in terms of what larger point, if any, it's actually trying to make with this study of how one's physical appearance affects—or doesn't affect—one's personality.

Schimberg even addresses the film's central gimmick in terms of casting. Stan, an actor with what most would dub traditional leading-man looks, spends the first act of this story in layers of prosthetics on his face in order to play a man with facial differences. Is this right? For the story, it is, because Edward is about to undergo a significant change to his appearance, thanks to an experimental treatment that can only be defined as miraculous. That's not because of divine intervention, of course, but it's mainly because Schimberg doesn't care how the procedure and process work. It just happens, resulting in Edward peeling layers upon layers of skin from his face until he looks like the kind of man whom many would presume to be an actor or a model.

That's not the whole story, obviously, because that would be too simple, too straightforward, and too married to the notion that physical appearance is the main thing that makes a person. Schimberg's not that sort of filmmaker, and this is definitely not that sort of film.

Instead, Edward, before starting the treatment, meets Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), a pretty woman and aspiring playwright who moves into the apartment next to his. She gasps when she first sees Edward, and here's a key question: How much does that gasp reveal about her? Appearances can be deceiving, of course, and so, too, can reflexive actions.

Edward and Ingrid start spending time together—talking about his acting and her writing, watching that training video, having some moments of close physical proximity. One of those last ones, by the way, has Edward having a reflex of his own, when Ingrid offers to remove a blackhead on his nose. He flinches and keeps doing so whenever she moves her hands toward his face, because he's not used to that kind of intimacy. That's the last time he sees her as Edward, because, soon enough, the treatment starts working.

Edward adopts a new identity, calling himself "Guy," telling people that Edward has died, and starting work in real estate, where his new face gets him on the company's advertising. He is, for all intents and purposes, a new man, until he reunites with Ingrid by chance. She doesn't recognize him, obviously, when "Guy" walks into a casting call for a play Ingrid has written and is about to stage. It's about her relationship with Edward, and that's when things become more complicated, self-reflexive, and potent about identity.

It also becomes much funnier, because Edward seemingly has everything he could want as "Guy," and the cruel irony is that he can't achieve what he actually wants in this role that has become his life. Sure, he's initially cast as "Edward" in the play, although that means having to wear a mask the doctors made of his original face. He and Ingrid start dating, but "Guy" is just as reserved, hesitant, and uncertain as Edward was whenever they're together. He may have a new face, but he is definitely not a new man, which is why his performance as "Edward" is so convincing but his life off the stage becomes such a mess.

The real creative and satirical inspiration on Schimberg's part, though, is the introduction of Oswald, a man with the same condition Edward once had, played by Adam Pearson, an actor who happens to have that condition in real life. Both Oswald and Pearson's performance are so charming, so boisterous, and filled with such positive energy that the entire story flips over on itself.

Oswald becomes the focal point of any room he's in—not because of his appearance, but on account of all of those personality traits. The man is everything Edward wishes he could be, while gradually getting everything Edward wants.

Yes, it's somewhat cruel in a cosmic sense, but A Different Man is operating in the vein of a fable, a parable, or a fairy tale, where lessons and observations of human nature can come with quite a bit of pain for those involved. That's certainly the case here, as a man, who thought his misery and lack of fulfillment could be attributed to one thing about him, is revealed to have a more significant, much deeper problem. It's not the face. It's the man himself.

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