A Different Man: The irony is that he's not
A weird movie gets me thinking, although I'm not certain about the conclusions.
Note: I feel like I need to discuss a lot of what happens in this movie, so if you haven’t seen it yet, I would probably recommend watching it first before reading what I have to say. But you don’t have to take orders from me, so do what you want!
A Different Man
Written and directed by Aaron Schimberg
2024
Movies can do some pretty amazing things. They can bring amazing worlds to life that previously only existed in the imagination. They can convey emotions so believable and moving that audiences can’t help but experience what the characters are feeling. They can evoke uncontrollable laughter or incendiary anger. And sometimes, they can confuse the hell out of you.
There should probably be a name for the type of surreal movie that uses strange symbolism to unsettle viewers while exploring characters’ interior states, because that’s a specific enough genre that certain types of people (namely, me) tend to enjoy. A Different Man definitely sits alongside other movies in that genre, and while it’s not as strangely unsettling as the works of David Lynch, and it’s not as fanciful as some of the movies written by Charlie Kaufman, it takes some strides in those directions, making its odd story seem weird enough to be a sort of fable but specific enough in its detail to keep things grounded in something approaching reality, even if there are plenty of elements that seem to be clearly symbolic of…something.
Sebastian Stan plays Edward, a man with a facial deformity that has caused him to be withdrawn, barely able to interact with other people. He lives on his own and mostly seems to avoid everyone else, hoping people won’t notice him and start to stare or mock him. But when his doctor suggests he try out an experimental drug that could improve his condition, his life starts to change, eventually culminating in a dreamlike scene in which he tears his deformed face off to reveal somebody who looks strikingly normal.
The movie takes a little while to get to that point, and first, it lets us spend some time in Edward’s skin, showing how afraid he is to come out of his shell and relate with others. He strikes up a little bit of a relationship with Ingrid (Renate Reinsve, The Worst Person in the World), a new neighbor who moves in to the apartment next door, although she almost has to force her way into his life by being extra-friendly. He seems to be attracted to her, but since he’s sure that she would never be with someone like him, he never acts on it.
So when Edward undergoes his transformation and realizes that nobody will recognize him anymore, he decides to be someone else. He takes on the imaginative name of Guy, claiming to be a family friend, and he tells others that Edward died via suicide. Then, the movie jump-cuts to a few years in the future, and we learn that Guy has become a successful real estate agent who has his now-handsome face plastered on subway ads and cardboard stand-ups (he doesn’t seem to be especially charismatic, but that apparently doesn’t matter). He has everything he ever wanted now, but is he happy?
Apparently not, because when he learns that Ingrid has written a play about her relationship with Edward, he decides to audition, since nobody knows that character better than him. He wears a mask that the doctors had made of his previous face so they could track his progress, and even though Ingrid had been trying to find an actor with an actual facial deformity to play the character, she’s so impressed with his ability to impersonate Edward that she casts him, and then starts sleeping with him as well.
These developments are interesting enough, with Guy seeming to come more alive than he ever had been before when he gets to playact as his former self. He starts to question Ingrid’s assumptions about him and express emotions in ways that seem completely new to him. But then things take another twist when Oswald (Adam Pearson, an actor with a real-life facial deformity who previously appeared in Under the Skin), shows up, and even though he was too late to audition for the part, he’s interested enough in the play that he starts hanging out in the theater, getting to know Guy and Ingrid, and even starting to influence the production.
Unlike Edward, Guy is outgoing and charismatic. He’s witty and charming, and he seems to get the most out of life despite the setbacks he has experienced. He sings and plays music, he has relationships with women, and people seem to love to be around him. And of course, this gets under Guy’s skin. Oswald is not just everything that Edward was too afraid to be, he’s everything that Guy still lacks. The jealousy becomes too intense to bear, especially when Oswald starts to slowly push Guy out of his own life, all while seeming so nice and kind that nobody could get mad at him.
There’s a lot going on here, and it does make you wonder just what it all means. One could probably read a variety of messages into the goings-on, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be about something specific, like the way people’s attempts to remake their appearances through plastic surgery can’t erase the ugliness of their souls (to name one possible interpretation). Really, you could say that the movie questions whether people can really change themselves, and even if they are able to do so, whether they might regret it and want to go back to the way things were before. Pre-transformation Edward is understandably sad, and his inability to form human connections has made him near-suicidal, but even after remaking himself, he doesn’t seem much happier. The play provides him with a way to relive his former life in a way that’s both literal and symbolic, making him wonder whether that was a version of him that was more real. But the appearance of Oswald only makes all of his failings more evident, demonstrating that he was the only thing holding himself back from happiness. It’s a sad commentary on the way some people can become so wrapped up in insecurities that they’ll never allow themselves to succeed at anything they actually want.
And I haven’t even mentioned all the other weird touches, strange symbolism, and repeated elements that give this story a surreal, almost dreamlike feel. Early on, Edward comes home to find that the ceiling in his apartment is leaking, but he’s so timid that he doesn’t report it to the landlord or ask for it to be fixed. As the movie goes on, the leak gets worse and worse, with the brown stain on the ceiling where the water is leaking starting to fester and take on the appearance of an open sore. It seems like a gross, upsetting symbol of the rot in Edward’s life, something inside him that is developing into an ugly misanthropy and self-hatred.
That’s at least somewhat explicable, but what to make of the way random strangers keep approaching Edward and acting like they know him, but can’t seem to figure out how, despite his incredibly distinctive face? And why do so many people keep reading or mentioning Toni Morrison’s novel The Bluest Eye? Why do the doctors who treat him or his real estate coworkers all act so strangely? I’m sure there’s a purpose to all of this, if only to create a strange, heightened atmosphere. I’m also unsure about some of the later developments to the story, which seem kind of like writer/director Aaron Schimberg couldn’t figure out how to end it, so he just had a bunch of stuff happen.
But even if I don’t fully understand this movie, I found it to be pretty fascinating, especially in its exploration of the character of Edward/Guy. What he goes through is pretty extreme, but some of his insecurities, his self-sabotage, and his inability to figure out how to have a normal life are all too relatable. It’s also rather wryly funny throughout, giving the story a dark, acerbic edge. While the whole enterprise is rather strange, it’s memorable enough to lodge itself in the mind and keep you thinking about what it has to say about the human condition. That’s a mark of success if you ask me.