A Different Man review: A thought-provoking exploration of identity and self-worth
By Tom Hewitson
This article contains spoiler content.
Originally premiering at the Sundance Film Festival, Aaron Schimberg’s A Different Man stands out for the brilliant performances by its three lead actors, each so perfectly cast that it feels as though the roles were written specifically for them.
The film introduces us to Edward (Sebastian Stan), an aspiring actor born with neurofibromatosis, a condition that causes tumours to grow on his skin, disfiguring his face. Edward, burdened by his appearance, feels compelled to make himself invisible, avoiding human interaction. Sebastian Stan, though not widely known for serious roles, delivers a standout performance here. His reserved physicality and vocal restraint bring Edward to life, even behind layers of prosthetics.
Eventually, Edward is offered a miraculous ‘cure’ by his doctor, allowing him to literally shed his skin and transform his identity. He rebrands himself as Guy, a hotshot realtor, now played by Stan without prosthetics.
Meanwhile, Guy’s former neighbour and love interest, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), has written a play featuring a character based on Edward, whom she believes has committed suicide. The play, aptly titled Edward, recounts the story of her relationship with Edward, which we witness in the film’s first act. Guy, now confident and conventionally attractive, auditions for the role in the hopes of getting closer to Ingrid. He wears a mask of his former self, desperate to reconnect with her on new terms.
Reinsve’s portrayal of the self-serving Ingrid is one of the film’s highlights, even surpassing her memorable performance in Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World. Her character’s decision to write Edward raises complex questions about the morality of using someone else’s story for personal gain, as well as the broader issue of exploitative casting in Hollywood. Should she cast an actor without a visible disability to play Edward? Would it be exploitative to cast someone purely because they have a disfigurement? Schimberg, the film’s director, who has neurofibromatosis himself, grappled with these questions when writing A Different Man. His solution was to include two disfigured characters in the film: Edward, and Oswald (Adam Pearson).
Pearson, who worked with Schimberg on Chained for Life, was clearly the inspiration for Oswald’s character. Confident and charming, Oswald presents a stark contrast to Edward, who elicits our pity. Oswald, on the other hand, immediately wins over the audience with his charisma and warmth – there’s no room for pity, only admiration. This dynamic between Oswald and Guy gives the film its comedic edge. Oswald is a fan of Guy and wishes him well, while Guy, consumed by insecurity, views Oswald as a threat – someone who is replacing him. Guy’s perception of Oswald reveals his own deep-rooted fear: that Oswald represents the version of Edward he could have, and should have, been.
Sebastian Stan shines in the film’s climax as Guy spirals into insanity. His paranoia drives him to destroy everything he’s built, blaming Oswald for ‘stealing’ his life – ironically, becoming the villain of his own story.
The brilliance of A Different Man lies in how it prompts introspection. It challenges the audience to reflect on their own behaviour toward people with disfigurements. Do we, like Edward, experience discomfort or avoidance? Can we, like others, see beauty beyond physical appearance, as they do with Oswald? The film’s deeper questions extend to self-worth, urging us to separate our identity from our appearance. Our value lies beneath the surface, and that’s what truly matters.
By sending audiences home with these powerful messages, while maintaining a comedic and engaging tone, A Different Man proves itself to be a compelling and thought-provoking film.
Our rating: 4/5.