A Different Man movie review: Daring and provocative comedy challenges perceptions of beauty

If beauty really is in the eye of the beholder, we need to broaden our definition of beholder.

There’s no denying subjectivity, but there is also no denying that socialised constructs of what we view as beautiful or not is directed by broader mores than our individual tastes. So, there is consensus that Giselle Bundchen is an apotheosis of aesthetic value and Donald Trump is not so much.

What about “beauty is on the inside?” you say? That’s a laudable sentiment, but it doesn’t sell magazines and study after study will confirm that those deemed “attractive” receive advantages at work and just go about their day-to-day.

The off-kilter and comedic A Different Man wants to shake us out of our complacency with its deeply humanist portrait of two men with neurofibromatosis.

The first is Edward (Sebastian Stan), an anxious aspiring actor with a disfiguring facial condition. He walks through New York City metaphorically coiled up in a ball of unease – he thinks he sees judgement and disgust reflected back at him in every passing person.

Director Aaron Schimberg cleverly constructs these moments to reinforce Edward’s perceptions, not because the strangers on the subway or the neighbours in his building are actually reacting in that way, but because we expect them to. Maybe because we expect ourselves to.

From the get-go, Schimberg is asking the right questions of prejudice and repulsion.

When a new neighbour moves in next door to him, Edward is immediately attracted to the vivacious Vola (Renate Reinsve from The Worst Person in the World). Vola is open and warm, and gives no indication that she sees Edward as any different but his internalised discomfort with himself prevents her from receiving her kind gestures.

Edward goes through an experimental drug trial which sheds his disfigurement and he emerges as a traditionally handsome man with a strong jaw line, clear blue eyes and movie star smile. He adopts the name Guy Moratz and “kills off” Edward.

One day, he walks past Vola and she has written a play about a character named “Edward”, clearly inspired by him. It’s the role he was “born to play”, except that he no longer looks like himself or the Edward of Vola’s memories.

This is when the second man with neurofibromatosis, Oswald (Adam Pearson), enters the story. Oswald’s condition is just as severe as Edward’s but he carries himself with confidence and inner peace. He’s not hung-up on how he looks so what he puts out is what comes back to him.

People are drawn to Oswald, and Pearson, who really has neurofibromatosis, is dynamic on screen. He sashays into scenes and commands the space.

Schimberg contrasts Oswald’s assured energy to Edward’s, who despite looking like Sebastian Stan, feels shrivelled and small.

A Different Man is relatively straightforward in its thematic ambition but the film goes to some strange places as it and Edward’s mental state careers towards its odd ending that will leave you questioning its narrative choices. In terms of how twisty or meta it is, it’s like Charlie Kaufman-lite, which is not a burn.

You may not quite fathom everything that happens or why, especially in the final act, but it doesn’t leave an equivocal impression. This is a daring film that provokes some interesting and essential questions of how we perceive others.

Rating: 3.5/5

A Different Man is in cinemas now