A Different Man

I went to see this film without any expectations of what it was going to be like - I don't look at reviews in advance of seeing a film.

Whilst I think this film was well meaning, and had a message, what really confused me was what it was trying to say. The film set off on one story arc, veered to another and then seemed to bounce across several. There were also, what felt like, added scenes at the end - it felt too long.

The acting, direction and writing seemed ok, but as I was trying to figure out want the film was trying to "tell" me, they were rather lost against the plot confusion.

It maybe that I'm too un-empathetic to have got the message but, I suspect, the film is rather confused. Others may well get more out of it than I did, so I don't want to condemn it, but it felt a bit of a waste of time to me.

Simply put, it just feels like a cheap shot when the film begins by presenting the undeniable struggles of the main character's life and has him pursue a cure for completely understandable reasons - and then effectively turns around and says "Actually, all of the problems in his life were his fault, he didn't really get better in ways which matter after that, and let us present a totally idealized version of someone with the exact same condition to prove why."

"Accept yourself for who you are and do not seek external fixes" message might come from the right place, but it is not so inspiring when his condition was effectively shown interfering with something as important as his eyesight and generally affect his quality of life even when nobody was watching.

Furthermore, this film also exhibits the same contrivance which brought down Challengers for me - the insistence that like a duckling, the lead MUST imprint onto the first remotely meaningful relationship shown in the narrative and fail to form anything offscreen even when all the conditions are there for it. It is worse here when that relationship effectively comes from a combination of pity and fetishism - as the film is at least honest enough to acknowledge.

For all of that, the first half is very strong in its depiction of the grime of main character's life, reinforced in a variety of unusual ways like the PSA he is part of. Even the second half has enough neat moments - whether in digging down to the details of stage productions or other smaller twists and turns - to avoid ever feeling like a total loss.

I suppose one reason I'm so disappointed is because this could have been a remarkable narrative of a climber who benefited from the system (in this case, the research breakthrough turning him into "A Different Man") only to pull up the ladder behind him for entirely selfish reasons. Instead, the film pretends the climb was never worth it in the first place and stalls around various meta layers instead of developing the point.

Much like Sebastian Stan's character Edward, for many years I was always the person that looked like another person. There was always a caveat of course, where it seemed like the person I supposedly looked like seemed more interesting, outgoing and well known amongst these groups. This parallel with my life and the film instantly drew me in.

It's intriguing this film came out so close to another film centering around identity, that being The Substance. Where the satire and in your face boldness of that film will define its legacy, A Different Man's approach is much more pensive and sad. It reflects the unique challenges of men and women, where women are judged for their outward appearance and sex appeal, while men are judged more for their success and charisma (though sex appeal does play a part in this film). Edward feels held back and embarrassed by his appearance, and fails to see his worth in a society bent on looks and stature. What he doesn't realize is that his inner self is interesting and complex, but he can't harness that power in him. Even when he is conventionally attractive, he is still the same nervous, awkward person. He acts how he thinks he should act in this role, rather than be himself. This is what makes the introduction of Oswald so interesting.

Oswald is aggressive, pushy, and dare I say diabolical. While his outward features should be a setback in his life, his confident and charismatic personality makes him the perfect foil for Edward. He is powerful in ways that Edward can only pretend to be, pushing him out of a play about his own life, stealing his love interest and earning the love and admiration that Edward felt deprived of. Edward is so weak and overwhelmed that he once again tries to pretend to be something he is not on top of his false persona. Edward never truly accepted his true self, and it eventually leads to some troublesome outcomes for him.

I definitely think this film is going to hit a lot of men quite hard, the reviewer included. With all of the discussions about what is masculinity or what even defines a man, it's difficult being our true selves due to the fear of being judged by mythical standards. Is the fact I never went to war not make me a man? Is the fact I am overweight and broken make me less than a man? People forget the pressures men feel in modern society, and we just turn off and sometimes disappear into the woodwork. Suicide and death are approached subjects in this film, and much like in reality, they are brushed aside.

I was definitely intrigued by this film, for we rarely see true deconstructions of the male psyche where the character doesn't do a complete 180 on their life and become a confident Casanova or something, or saves the day like every man wishes they can do. The reality is, most of us just exist and hope things turn out for the best. I did wish the movie had addressed the elephant in the room, which was trying to portray a story about a physically handicapped person without making them a victim. I think they expertly dealt with that subject with some meta commentary at the end. I don't think they wanted that subject to overrun the story, but they at least addressed the issue. In retrospect, they handled it as best as they could.

"Edward" (Sebastian Stan) is a facially disfigured man, stuck in a rundown apartment, whose life isn't really going anywhere fast. Then he gets a new neighbour. "Ingrid" (Renato Reinsve) is a writer who befriends him and promises him a part in her play. Meantime, his doctors manage to get him on a radical course of treatment that gradually returns his face to a more normal visage. Returning to his flat, and with some fairly grotesque things emerging from his leaky ceiling, he realises that nobody recognises him anymore so he has to assume a different identity. That's when he discovers that "Ingrid" is, indeed, putting on a play - and that the old "Edward" is the title and the topic. He wants the part. It's his part. How to get it though without giving the game away? Add to his frustrations the arrival of "Oswald" (Adam Pearson) who is an ostensibly decent character but who also wants the role, and he has the aesthetics as opposed to the prosthetics. "Ingrid" has tough choices to make but where might this leave "Edward"? There's something quite circular about the way this story pans out. A sort of be careful what you wish for type scenario that gives and removes hope from "Edward" and almost creates a villain of the piece too! Is that merited or is that justified? The drama shines a light on the more shallow attitudes amidst society, on our intolerances and assumptions but it also swipes at the fickleness of friendships, fame and success - all rather engagingly delivered by both Stan and Pearson. It's the former man who positively exudes exasperation as the denouement (only vaguely) skirts the Chaplinesque. It's on that note that it's worth saying this is quite funny at times, too - the writing doesn't try to impose any morals on us, rather it presents us with some scenarios and lets us enjoy and evaluate as we go. It doesn't hang about, and right from the start we hit the ground running as the characters develop, the personalities emerge - for good or bad, and it's well worth a couple of hours in a cinema. I got more from it second time round as I was able to focus a little more on the nuance than the imagery.

"A Different Man," directed by Aaron Schimberg, sets out to explore the unsettling relationship between identity, appearance, and self-acceptance, taking the audience on a strange and, at times, uncomfortable journey through the illusions we create to feel accepted. With a style that flirts with dark humor and existential drama, the film stands out for its peculiar approach and the way it subverts expectations, refusing to deliver a redemptive or simplistic narrative. Sebastian Stan, known for his roles in blockbusters, once again steps out of his comfort zone and takes on a role that demands not only a physical transformation but also a deep dive into a character full of contradictions and vulnerabilities.

Stan plays Edward, a man with a severe facial disfigurement who dreams of becoming an actor, but whose lack of talent is as evident as his insecurity. The story gains strength by presenting Edward not as a stereotype of perseverance or inspiration, but as someone genuinely flawed-pathetic even-whose pursuit of aesthetic change is born from misguided ambition and repressed vanity. Schimberg's script succeeds in portraying Edward in a raw, unfiltered way, without resorting to easy sentimentalism. And Stan, even buried under layers of prosthetic makeup, delivers a sensitive and nuanced performance, capturing the essence of a man torn between the desire to be accepted and the inability to accept himself.

Visually, the film evokes a retro charm, with Super 16mm cinematography giving it a grainy texture and a nostalgic color palette reminiscent of urban dramas from past decades. The dense atmosphere of New York, with its worn-out streets and claustrophobic apartments, adds to the protagonist's sense of isolation and displacement. The visual style complements the subtly absurd tone of the narrative, which at times feels reminiscent of early Woody Allen films, with snappy dialogue and tragicomic situations that shift between the melancholic and the ridiculous.

The dynamic between Edward and Ingrid, played by the charismatic Renate Reinsve, adds an interesting layer to the story. Ingrid is a Norwegian playwright who moves into Edward's building with grand ambitions but carries her own insecurities as well. Reinsve delivers a magnetic performance, balancing her character's charm with a latent selfishness that keeps the audience constantly guessing about her true intentions. Their relationship unfolds in unexpected ways, oscillating between companionship and opportunism, revealing how both feed off each other's vulnerabilities.

The story takes a major turn when Edward, after undergoing a radical surgery that makes him "conventionally attractive," decides to reinvent himself as Guy, a real estate agent. This is where the film delves even deeper into the idea that appearance is just a superficial layer of identity. Even free of his old face, Edward still carries the same timid gestures, the same almost childlike insecurity, and Stan, with precise body language, brilliantly conveys this continuity. One of the film's standout scenes is an awkward encounter in a bar bathroom, where despite his new look, he still feels out of place and inadequate.

The introduction of Oswald (Adam Pearson) expands the discussion on identity and self-perception. Pearson delivers a captivating and charismatic performance, providing a stark contrast to Edward's character. Oswald, who has the same facial condition Edward once had, is confident, magnetic, and genuinely comfortable in his own skin-something Edward never managed to be. Oswald's presence acts almost like an inverted mirror, an unsettling reminder that the transformation Edward sought might never have been purely external. The chemistry between Stan and Pearson is one of the film's highlights, with dialogues filled with tension and a competitive energy, as Edward sees in Oswald everything he wished to be but never could.

The soundtrack adds an extra layer of irony and melancholy to the film, punctuating Edward's journey with tones that swing between dramatic and tongue-in-cheek. The music never underestimates the audience, suggesting complex emotions without forcing them, reinforcing the film's ambiguous tone, which never fully commits to drama or humor.

Overall, "A Different Man" doesn't offer easy answers or comfortable resolutions. The takeaway is that external transformation might change how others see us, but it doesn't necessarily alter how we see ourselves. Schimberg navigates this reflection with intelligence and a touch of provocation, questioning what truly defines our identity and how desperately we seek external validation. It's a film that unsettles, entertains, and, above all, makes you think-without ever falling into clichés or simplistic solutions.