Film Review: A Different Man (2024)
Staff Writer Jeff Chay reviews A Different Man (2024), a hauntingly absurd exploration of identity via a Kafkaesque metamorphosis.
In A Different Man (2024), Aaron Schimberg delves into society’s fixation on appearances and the thin line between perception and reality, crafting a darkly whimsical fable that is as peculiar as it is poignant. With lead performances by Adam Pearson and Sebastian Stan, the film is driven by a curious, double-sided exploration of identity, embracing an absurdist sense of humour that navigates both horror and humanity.
The film follows Edward, a struggling, self-effacing actor whose life has been shaped by his appearance due to neurofibromatosis, a genetic condition that has left his face distinctively different from others. His daily encounters are often tinged with a patronising kindness that underscores society's superficial acceptance of 'difference'. Stan portrays Edward as a figure of aching vulnerability, weighed down by an inner life marked by alienation and invisibility. That changes, however, when an experimental treatment grants him a new face, opening the door to the life he’s always imagined — or so he thinks.
A Different Man brilliantly treats Edward’s transformation as a Kafkaesque metamorphosis. The experimental surgery he undergoes, rather than being a fairytale transformation, plays out to an ominous, dread-inducing score, puncturing the idealistic myth of self-reinvention. And rather than delivering him from despair, his newfound 'beauty' only reveals his discontent as something deeper and more entrenched.
This inner malcontent comes to a head when Edward encounters Oswald (Adam Pearson), an irrepressible character who, despite suffering from the same condition, radiates charisma, self-confidence, and unapologetic comfort in his own skin. His presence stirs a fascinating tension between Edward’s internalised self-loathing and Oswald’s unburdened, assured self-image. Watching Pearson command the screen, we see a celebration of individuality that subverts the very narrative of societal rejection that Edward has told himself.
Schimberg’s direction mirrors the film’s thematic complexity. Its slightly grainy visuals lend it a timeless quality, as if it’s a fable unfolding in a universe neither here nor there. The cinematography by Wyatt Garfield, with its wide shots and slow zooms, further accentuates the alienation and introspection that define Edward’s existence. Moments of surrealism seep in, from Edward’s old, menacing New York apartment to a shadowy leak in the ceiling, imbuing the film with a Kafkaesque quality that leaves you questioning what’s real and what’s part of Edward’s tortured psyche.
A Different Man is more than a parable about beauty or a critique of societal standards — it’s an unsettling reflection on our pursuit of an idealised self. The film speaks to our desire to shed flaws in a world that promises perfection yet rarely delivers happiness. Its message isn’t trite or overblown; instead, it hums with a lingering, unresolvable tension, leaving viewers pondering their own assumptions about appearance and identity.
While the film stumbles in parts by over-layering its narrative, Schimberg’s direction and the stellar performances of Stan and Pearson pull us back to the central mystery: If becoming 'better' is a fool’s errand, then what truly makes us whole? In A Different Man, the answer seems to be in embracing not just our differences, but also the uncertainty of who we might really be underneath.