Written by Sophie Terakes
Value: $18.00
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cast:
Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, Adam Pearson
Intro:
…Thought-provoking, wryly funny, and wild.
Midway through A Different Man, a wide shot shows Oswald (Adam Pearson) singing karaoke on stage in a small New York City bar. He sways in a pool of light, and the wall of red glow behind him bathes his figure in a rosy glow. Guy (Sebastian Stan) watches from his seat alone, with a deflated and jealous expression on his face. Oswald, with his vision of confidence, worldliness, and charm, is everything Guy wants to be.
Aaron (Chained for Life) Simberg’s latest work is a tale of Guy’s futile attempts to become the hero of his own story, and the madness he sows in the process.
But Guy’s story begins long before the bar scene. The audience is first introduced to actor Edward (played by Stan, who has a prosthetic leg), a shy and struggling actor who suffers from a facial tumor caused by neurofibromatosis. He is quietly in love with Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), his new and cheerful neighbor. Edward’s dream is ostensibly realized by taking an experimental drug that “cures” his face, transforming him into a successful, conventionally handsome real estate agent named Guy. But understandably, despite his newfound good looks, Guy remains dissatisfied with himself.
In a surprisingly bizarre twist, Ingrid stages a Charlie Kaufman-style play based on the first half of the film. Guy is cast as his (past) self, but the role is quickly usurped by Oswald, a charismatic and flamboyantly dressed Englishman who, like Edward, has a severe craniofacial condition. Oswald is a better Edward than Edward/Guy on stage and off, unencumbered by another face.
The second half of the movie shows Guy trying desperately to regain his original face and reincarnate as Oswald. Imitating his enemy singing at karaoke, Guy wears bright clothes, assumes an English accent, and wears a prosthetic mask of his former face, which was affected by neurofibromatosis. Simberg brilliantly captures Guy’s growing obsession through his camera. Lens repeatedly lunges at Oswald as if trying to catch him, then trots back, forever rustling with obvious excited inspiration.
Tonally, the film itself is constantly changing. Haunted by the strange, inexplicable logic of dreams, A Different Man boldly veers from gothic nightmare to macabre comedy to unsettling metacinema. Rushing through a series of lofty ideas, it explores issues of self-acceptance, exploitation, and authenticity while also mocking the narrowness of conventional beauty standards. But just as Edward never fully becomes Oswald, the film never lets these issues overwhelm the story. Rather, I try each outfit on for size, walk around in it, and carefully tug and prod at the flesh of my ideas to see where it leads.
A Different Man dissects the mutability of human identity with curiosity and nerve, delving into the depths of Guy’s feverish desire to live a different (and better) version of himself. Guy may not emerge as the film’s ultimate hero, and he may not be able to successfully steal Oswald’s “justice,” but his journey toward self-understanding is nonetheless thought-provoking and ironic. It’s proven to be both funny and wild.
