“A Different Man” Review

Much like Aaron Schimberg’s previous film, A Different Man centers around the actor Adam Pearson and doesn’t shy away from his noticeable condition of neurofibromatosis. This film is compelling because Adam plays a man who exists less as a centerpiece of a tired disorder drama but instead, as a supporting voice which the subgenre into the crosshairs of scrutiny. This is more of a cautionary tale, where the fortunate protagonist who undergoes a miracle cure is punished for insecurities rather than rewarded for his social conformity.

This scenario bodes well for casting Sebastian Stan in the role of Edward, an aspiring actor afflicted with neurofibromatosis. Unable to find anything more than safety videos for acting and a slow-moving romance with his new neighbor and playwright Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), Edward longs for a more normal looking face. His wish comes true, but in a manner befitting of a deceptive genie. While Edward’s face will appeal and give him a chance to redefine himself as more of a Sebastian Stan, he makes the crucial mistake of denying himself. To him, Edward was a man who struggled to break into acting and lived in a decayed apartment. Now, he is Guy, a good-looking real estate agent with a chance at being an actor in a local theater production.

But we’re only a third of the way through the movie, and this is where things take an unorthodox turn. Aiming to get back into Ingrid’s romantic crosshairs, he auditions for her latest play. The problem is that her play is based around Edward, and Guy looks nothing like him. But Edward happens to have saved a duplicate mask left over from his surgery preparation. Perhaps Ingrid will recognize him with the familiar voice and mask.

Then Oswald, played with charm by Adam Pearson, walks into the theater. He’s the real deal of a man with neurofibromatosis, but unlike Edward, Oswald is confident. He has many hobbies and a way with words, harboring a comfort that Edward only dreamed of in his previous state. Oswald becomes the man who Edward left behind, as well as a commentary on the Beauty and the Beast dynamic. When Edward becomes Guy, he has completely erased the part of himself that had the disorder. All he can do now is masquerade as the man he once was, where his inability to attain fame and romance only frustrates him further.

There’s no shortage of surprises in this film as it refuses to be so easily pegged down. Early scenes of Edward’s treatment lead into body horror, as chunks of his tumors and flesh spill off his face. The first few encounters with Ingrid are sweet enough to make one believe that Edward’s longing will read to some grand revelation, but there is no easy out for the man who favored beauty. What’s most unique about the whole experience is that its meta-narrative constantly questions the depiction of disorders, even within its structure. We first see Sebastian Stan in the elaborate makeup effects to make it look like he has neurofibromatosis. But when that mask is lifted, and Adam walks onto the scene, the entire depiction is dissected, making comments about lackluster effects and choices in actors for such a role. The film even goes the extra mile by bringing in another familiar actor playing himself, showcasing more discussions about playing somebody different.

Adam’s presence sends a shockwave through this narrative for more than being an accurate visual comparison for the film’s attempt at depicting his disorder. Before his arrival, this movie seems to be on track to simplify ts structure with familiar notes. Edward’s life seemed dismal with his condition, but then came the treatment and now he’s handsome enough to have a beer with the boys and get blowjobs in bathrooms from hot women. Pearson’s arrival is a shot of realism that turns the story on its head, where Oswald’s well-adjusted demeanor and active social life with cultural curiosity sharply contrast Edward’s transition to Guy. Despite looking like Sebastian Stan, Guy is a dull figure who is not only more standoffish than Oswald but is far less intelligent, as in the film’s hilarious scene where he fails to recall Presidential assassins. Oswald is someone you’d want to have drinks with; Guy is someone who would probably start a fight after a few drinks.

A Different Man delivers a much-needed punch to the soft sub-genre of disorder dramas, calling all its tropes into question. Though unpredictable at times (including a wild third act), the constant questioning of social norms and beauty standards is always intriguing, where Edward becomes a fascinating character beyond his facial transformation. The pity for Edward takes on a much different tone, where the implications of society are never that easy to pin down. Hollywood pictures may favor a happy ending, where the unhappy, disfigured person becomes Sebastian Stan. But people like Adam Pearson throw all those perceptions out the window, and we’re forced to confront uncertainty about how we view the world, where the laughs are not easy ones and pity comes in unexpected forms.