By -

Humans are so flawed. For instance, projecting our insecurities onto others is easier than working to overcome them. It justifies us and validates our fears, like ‘I’m only lonely because of this one thing that characterises me, this defect around which I decided to revolve my whole personality. And no one can blame me for being unpleasant; I’m a product of how the world treats me when faced with my flaws.’

A Different Man plays around with this idea, which isn’t necessarily philosophical but curious. The conduit is a man called Edward (Sebastian Stan), who suffers from fibromatosis. A condition where benign tumours won’t stop growing – mainly on one’s face. Think Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man.

Edward lives alone in his apartment in New York. He doesn’t meet or talk to a lot of people. There’s water leaking from his ceiling, but he’s uncomfortable talking to his building’s super to fix it. A new neighbour moves in. Her name is Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), and she’s a high-spirited playwright who’s not unfazed by Edward’s condition. She still jumps the first time she looks at him, but after that, she takes him for granted. Invites herself over. Becomes a neighbour. Which is precisely what confuses Edward.

His crippling insecurity is relatable because we, the audience who do not suffer from such a striking condition, cannot fathom how life would be if we were in the same situation. Would we also be awkward recluses who struggle to face the real world? So we get it when Edward takes on a new experimental treatment that completely revolutionises his life – it completely cures the fibromatosis. One day, he’s the elephant man; the next day, he’s pealing chunks of tumour from his face.

New Edward is a powerhouse. He used to be a struggling actor going for minor roles in corporate videos about bullying; now, he has changed his name and is a real estate agent. He’s not just any real estate agent; he’s the best of the bunch. When he finds out Ingrid has produced a play about her relationship with old Edward. He goes for it, believing his lived experience (that he hides) can help him. It obviously does, but it comes with a piece of dramatic irony – another actor with fibromatosis, Oswald (Adam Pearson, who actually has that condition), joins in to help, and what do you know, he’s a lovely, friendly man who collects acquaintances and life experiences wherever he goes. The complete opposite of Edward. A man who exudes so much captivating personality, everyone gravitates towards him – especially women.

This may be a long-winded synopsis of A Different Man, and I promise it’s not spoiling the good parts. That’s because the film takes its time to get to the crux of its central question. It’s only when Oswald enters Edward’s life that we see Edward isn’t lonely because of his condition. It is how he couldn’t overcome his differences that made him a recluse and a jerk on top of it.

Stan, Reinsve, and Pearson are all electrifying. Their personalities are different, but the tension that stems from their interaction validates them. Pearson is especially significant, making Oswald the friendliest and most perfect man. The guy that is so annoyingly perfect, you know he has to have some skeletons in his closet, and the fact that you never find it just makes you more infuriated? That’s him. Charming, magnetic, a joy to watch.

Reinsve builds on her role in the seminal The Worst Person In The World, and at this point, we should start talking about the fact that she may be one of the best actresses working today. And Stan probably has here is the best role. His fragilities at the start are uncovered in the second act to the point of madness. It was a challenging role to hold, but played with the utmost confidence.

But it’s writer/director Aaron Schimberg who facilitates everything. He has a knack for getting the best out of his actors and a visual eye that reminds me of old 70s films. Like Cassavetes, or Hal Ashby. The humanity of his world is real, tactile even. He never discloses everything. There’s a frustration about how the characters react, but Shimberg guides us through their actions. He’s telling us his characters are sometimes predictable and sometimes complex, but this cautionary tale’s whole point is between these messages. This is only his second feature, and the first with a wide release, and it comes almost as a statement of a young filmmaker with a new exciting vision.

A Different Man is the second film about a person’s obsession with their own idea of beauty after The Substance. Both movies couldn’t be more different, but thematically, they intersect with each other. It’s interesting how The Substance‘s incessant lack of subtlety leads to diminishing returns. On the other hand, A Different Man is a complex piece that asks more questions than it answers.

Verdict: 4.5 out 5
For every sensitive but insecure soul out there that needs a wake-up call to not wallow in their faults.