A Different Man review: The disfigurement of identity and how we perceive it!

In this review, aryantalksfilm aka Aryan Vyas, shares his views on Aaron Schimberg's worldwide appreciated film, A Different Man!

Both perception and imagination seem to play a significant role in our engagement with cinema. The avenue of filmmaking elicits the viewer to perceive emotional causality in a story; the notion that the viewer sees the character’s perception of an outer event as a consequence of their emotional state is what allows writers to expand upon this emotional casualty. How do you conceptualise this phenomenon on screen, then? If so, how does one make the protagonist perceive it in the filmic form?

Filmmakers often like to explore this theme through doppelgangers and double roles. Perhaps that's obvious, considering how it not only frames the characters for us, but also juxtaposes two conceptual ideas at once while making them interact within a common narrative. Vishal Bhardwaj does this most expertly within Indian cinema. He's one of the rare storytellers who's able to project primal psychological dread through such characters. This year's A Different Man, written and directed by Aaron Schimberg, taps this apprehension with a wryly absurd take. 

The story begins with Edward (Sebastian Stan in one of his career-defining roles), an aspiring actor with long-term neurofibromatosis - a genetic condition where tumours grow beneath the skin. Leaving his face distorted, he lives by himself in an apartment in New York and has little confidence going about his life. He seems to develop a keen friendship with the next-door neighbour, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), who busts down his door one day wearing a yellow top with matching yellow shorts. As the two get talking about what he does for a living, Ingrid suggests how she aspires to be a playwright. This ultimately prompts him to give her a typewriter he claims to have picked up off the street.

Also Read: The Substance review: A film that understands escalation like none other in 2024 so far!

It’s not that Edward is an unsuccessful actor, nor is he even implied to be a vain individual. In fact, the first act of the film - which showcases some of the year’s finest direction - makes it evident how hesitant he is to undergo the radical facial surgery that eradicates his disfigurement. But as the circumstances gradually change, Edward goes ahead with a chance surgery that may change his life forever. And so it does. It’s once Edward abandons his own name, face - and somewhat his identity - for a fake-sounding one for a debaucherous life as an affluent real estate that allows the film to converse fully with itself. Ingrid, now planning to set her first play up based upon a neighbour who pushed her to act upon her artistic side, also sheds off the classic manic pixie dream girl trait.

Not only does this embolden the screenplay to play off the character dynamics and own its meta-textual subtext, but it also lets Schimberg’s understanding of the darker parts of the female psyche seep in through Ingrid. Just as it was easy for us to assume Edward as a singularly good-spirited person in the first half, it also reminds us of how easy it was for us to assume her as inherently 'good' because of her belle and charm. 

Moreover, what becomes particularly striking is the way it uses the conversations and ethics surrounding the portrayal of differently-abled persons. This is the kind of film that rewards you with its ultra-rich tapestry, especially if you go in knowing nothing about the plot. That's the best part about visiting a film festival, after all. So, without getting too much into its plot mechanics, let's just say that before Edward believes he can fully allude himself into rewriting the past with Ingrid in some meaningful way, another personality enters their life to put things into perspective.

One of the cleverest and most self-critical films of the year, Schimberg’s A Different Man can be viewed as a doppelganger of sorts to The Substance—two films that opened the same day in the US. On the surface, both seem strikingly similar in what they're playing around with: our deep-down belief that if we change our hair and clothes and biologically rebuild our faces, we'd unveil the cooler, much happier selves to dwell upon. 

They can very well go down as the quintessential films of our time. As ramped-up scientific inventions in tune with AI are actively shaping the way we perceive reality - and ourselves - going ahead, our individual conceptions of what we want others to see ourselves as. But while it’s never been easier to put on a hybrid, personalized avatar to our own personalities and faces, it's also never been harder to escape our own inevitable conscious reckoning to find the self. They act like red herrings to how even radical transformation doesn't begin to touch the emotional self-image.

Both films share common flaws, too, in relation to their last act's tonal changes. But while the Demi Moore starrer body horror functioned on a heightened tone to display its themes, Schimberg’s film allows the kind of deep contemplation required for the self to look within. It's a rare festival film that quietly lingers with its sublime ending, urging you to rethink what you thought you knew about yourself and those sitting around you.

A Different Man had its Indian premiere at the MAMI Mumbai Film Festival this year! 

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