A Different Man
Sebastian Stan stars in this offbeat flick about a man with severe facial deformity who suddenly gets handsome, which can't figure out if it's body horror, black comedy or psychological thriller.
I’m an enthusiastic appreciator of movies that are offbeat, weird, different, strange, challenging, etc. But when it comes to tone, it’s really hard to be all things to all people all at once. You’ve kind of got to pick a lane, and stick with it.
“A Different Man” is all over the place, unable to decide if it’s body horror, black comedy or psychological thriller. It’s a mash of different moods, ideas and themes. Some compelling, some not so much.
It starts out as very dreary and tragic and by the end it’s puckish and downright goofy. Personally I think it’s easier for a movie to start lighthearted and grow serious rather than the other way around, because the frivolity undermines the dour tone the film had carefully constructed.
Sebastian Stan, best known for playing Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, plays Edward, a man born with a condition leading to severe facial deformities that get worse with age. He lives a timid, reclusive life in New York City devoid of much human contact.
But then he is offered a chance to participate in an experimental medical trial that results in dramatic changes that not alleviate his condition but result in him becoming, well, just as handsome as Sebastian Stan. But then he struggles with new challenges that leave him equally unhappy as he was before, and in some ways worse.
It’s not stated, but Edward appears to have neurofibromatosis, which causes tumors to grow on his face that result in a swollen, distorted appearance. He looks somewhat similar to John Hurt in “The Elephant Man,” though that was based on a historical figure with a different ailment.
It’s a tremendous piece of physical acting by Stan, who seems to stoop and shrink before our very eyes, clad in nerdy plaid shirts and carrying an omnipresent satchel. It’s a sharp contrast with his usual swaggering roles.
Edward lives in a run-down apartment that lately has developed a disturbing drip in the roof, which he neglects to report for repairs. It’s an apt metaphor for how he conducts his life: adapting to his challenges rather than tackling them head-on.
He’s smitten when a new neighbor moves in a next door, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), a self-confident playwright who seems intrigued by this shy guy. They begin a sweet, tenuous friendship, and he even jokes about her writing a role for him in her next play, as he works itinerantly as an actor in disability awareness videos.
Of course, part of him wonders if their relationship can grow into something more romantic, which prompts him to begin the medical treatment. It’s a pretty painful affair that leaves him debilitated, and he’s even more shocked when pieces of flesh begin to slide off his head. When complete, it’s so shocking a change that even Ingrid and the doctor running the trial don’t recognize him.
Edward fakes his own death and takes on a new life as Guy, who becomes a very successful real estate agent due in no small part to his good looks — which his broker even plasters in signs across the city.
Months later Edward/Guy spots Ingrid casting for her play, which is all about Edward and their relationship. Using a mold the doctors had made of his face before the transformation as a mask, he tries out for the role and gets it. And not only that, Ingrid lustily pursues him romantically.
Suddenly he’s got everything he wanted, right?
Things get really strange when the figure of Oswald turns up. Played by Adam Pearson, a British actor with neurofibromatosis who first appeared in “Under the Skin” next to Scarlett Johansson and has built a public profile as a disability advocate, Oswald was hoping to get the role but cheerily supports Guy in the part.
Oswald bears an eerie resemblance to Guy before his change, and he finds himself mesmerized and even a little jealous of this newcomer. Unlike Edward, Oswald is outgoing and charming and living his life to its fullest. There’s one scene where Guy/Edward watches Oswald performing karaoke in a sweet falsetto, and he can’t believe how the people in the audience embrace Oswald in a way he never experienced.
Things go on from there, which I’ll not reveal. Oswald keeps hanging around the rehearsals and popping up wherever Guy/Edward happens to be, who can’t help feeling Oswald is trying to horn in on his acting role and possibly even Ingrid.
For her part, Ingrid turns out to be much more calculating and ambitious than Edward had thought. This begs the question of how much she really cared for Edward before, and whether she’s just exploiting that relationship for the advancement of her career.
The last half-hour of the movie is just a mess, with increasingly comedic events transpiring, and then the characters continue to act as if nothing consequential happened. Oswald is unfailingly polite toward Edward/Guy, even as it becomes clear he’s not the nice guy he pretends to be.
Writer/director Aaron Schimberg previously worked with Pearson on 2018’s “Chained for Life,” which also centered on the relationship between a disfigured man and a woman in the arts. There’s a strong focus on voyeurism and vanity, as we watch how other people react to Edward (and later Oswald).
The film repeatedly references the 1951 film “Cyrano de Bergerac” about the long-nosed swordsman/poet who can’t look past his own face. I was also reminded of 1989’s “Johnny Handsome” starring Mickey O’Rourke as another man with a monstrous face who gets a chance at a fresh-faced start, and makes a muck of it.
There’s a difference between looking hideous and feeling hideous. Edward hides behind his disability while Oswald embraces it, but neither is a particularly pure soul. Oswald uses his looks to manipulate others, playing on their pity to evoke friendship. Edward wallows in victimhood, seeing first his condition and then Oswald as his tormentors.
“A Different Man” is an interesting film, but ultimately it’s a film that is confused about its own identity.