Very, very, very few people make it through their teen years unscathed. Some people don’t make it through at all. It’s bad enough being a teenager, the acne eruptions, the hormonal explosions, and all the attendant drama that comes with the age. Suppose there’s more than that? Suppose there’s an additional weight you need to carry? What then?

For me, I had two additional things that made adolescence worse. The first was amblyopia, a lazy eye that I’ve had since childhood. If I look at you straight on…I can’t. One eye is always a little introverted, as if it’s not quite ready to commit to that level of social engagement.* The second is that I started going bald in the beginning of high school. Thanks to a genetic trash fire I inherited, in high school I had both a janky-ass eye and a receding hairline. 

What did I do? I dealt with it as best I could. Just like most people do. I know people who live with plantar fasciitis, diabetes, Down syndrome, cancer, and more. The vast majority of those people also live with good humor and confidence, which feels like the right move. But what if you can’t? What if the emotional load is too much to bear? That’s the premise of A Different Man, a whip-smart indie film with possibly a career-best performance by Sebastian Stan.

Edward (Sebastian Stan) lives with neurofibromatosis. From what I’ve learned, that’s a condition in which non-cancerous tumors grow on a person. It’s a condition that lasts for life. For Edward, his condition is serious. With his facial differences, he’s told by his doctor that these tumors will continue to grow. Eventually they will block both his eyes and his ears.

Edward is also an actor. He’s built his life around avoiding conflict as much as possible, which includes relationships, and the craft of pretending to be someone else seems to be the only place where he can breathe. As you might imagine, he’s only up for certain parts, and we see him appearing in a corporate training film to help employees relate to those with facial differences.

Things change when Ingrid (Renate Reinsve) moves into the apartment next door. She’s an aspiring playwright, intelligent, ambitious, and perhaps the tiniest bit high on her own supply. To Edward, she’s also gorgeous. They strike up a halting, tentative friendship. Edward wants more, yet he thinks it could never progress beyond a platonic relationship. Something extreme would have to happen.

Then, Edward’s doctor suggests a highly experimental treatment. What does Edward have to lose? He volunteers. Over time and after some impressive body horror, the tumors slough off. Underneath is the conventionally attractive face of Sebastian Stan. He wastes no time in establishing a new identity for himself, telling everyone that Edward is dead. It’s then that Edward discovers Ingrid has written a play entitled “Edward.” Who else but him could play the lead role? He’ll do so with an elaborate mask, one that strongly resembles his own face. But things become even more complicated when Oswald (Adam Pearson) arrives. He, too, lives with neurofibromatosis. But while Edward was shy, Oswald is confident, charismatic, and determined not to let his condition hold him back. Oswald has the life that Edward always wanted, and Edward decides to take steps.

Independent film is necessary, and films like A Different Man are proof of it. There’s an alternate universe where this film was made to be schmaltzy big budget Oscar bait, and I am so very thankful I don’t live in that universe. Here, director Aaron Schimberg has made a gritty quasi-black comedy that’s perfectly willing to go to uncomfortable and surreal places. In a way, this film reminds me a little of Spike Jonze’s Being John Malkovich. Not quite so much the wild insanity, but Jonze’s film takes place in a New York City that feels real. It’s a little too crowded, the buildings feel a little too small, and certain apartments have an authentic sense of griminess. Schimberg uses that reality to contrast the unique faces of both Edward and Oswald, as well as the more subtle sci-fi trappings.

Schimberg’s focus is more on character than visuals, and we see that with his script. While his direction is good, it’s the writing where I think Schimberg’s heart is at. The obvious approach would be that Edward learns post-surgery that life is genuinely easier for good-looking people. There are absolutely aspects of that, but the script is more complex than that. Despite becoming fabulously handsome, Edward still hauls around lots of insecurity. That comes into brutally sharp focus when the confident Oswald enters his life. We see all of that through how the characters behave, both when alone and when interacting with others. The character work is so intelligent and complex that budding screenwriters would do well to study it. I will say, for a film marketed as a black comedy, the humor is often so bone dry that it becomes nearly undetectable. 

The cast is solid, including an amusing cameo from a well-known actor. But there are two specific performances we should examine. The first is Sebastian Stan. For perhaps the first half, he’s covered by layers of prosthetics and makeup. He doesn’t just let the makeup do the acting. Stan’s movements are quiet, small, created to not draw attention to him as much as possible. Even after the prosthetics go, Stan still shows us aspects of that physical introversion that he can’t quite let go of. Along with that, Stan factors in a growing resentment, a rage toward Oswald, Ingrid, and the rest of the planet. Some well-meaning critics have certainly wondered why the part of Edward couldn’t be played by an actor with neurofibromatosis. Schimberg anticipated that ahead of time with the casting of Adam Pearson as Oswald. He’s one of those actors who exudes charisma and likability. There’s never a moment where Pearson’s performance becomes mawkish or the audience is asked to pity him. Why would anyone pity the man who’s clearly the life of the party, the most charming and cool person in any room? He’s a blazing contrast to Stan’s gloomy and angry Edward.

Most of us will have something to deal with in our lives, and we might wish that something would just go away and magically make everything better. A Different Man understands the truth of that concept. This is one of the best films of the year.

*There is surgery I can have to strengthen the muscle and “straighten” that eye, and it’ll only cost me a mere twenty-one hundred dollars after insurance coverage. A bargain at twice the price!

Tim Brennan Movie Critic

Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.