Sebastian Stan – The Hollywood Reporter

Sebastian Stan in “A Different Man.”

Courtesy of the Sundance Institute

Appearances can be deceiving different manwriter-director Aaron Shimberg’s endearingly twisted look at actors, playwrights, the vanities, and the plight of the severely disfigured.

Like the famous “Eye of the Beholder” episode the Twilight Zonein which humans are transformed into eccentric outcasts of society, this dark comedy suggests what happens when an aspiring young thespian with neurofibromatosis manages to find a miracle cure, only to long for the life he had when he was still disfigured.

The character in question—a prophetic New York actor named Edward, or Ed—is played with tongue-in-cheek appeal by Sebastian Stan, who wears several layers of prosthetics (courtesy of skilled makeup designer Mike Marino) until he peels them off to reveal them. His true face. But this hardly gives Ed the life he bargained for, in a film that poignantly questions how others view us and, more importantly, how we view ourselves.

Shimberg explored a similar theme, albeit in a more artistic way, in his 2018 behind-the-scenes drama. Chained for life. This film co-stars Adam Pearson, who many may remember from his haunting appearance opposite Scarlett Johansson in Jonathan Glazer’s film. Under the skinwho ends up stealing the show here as a charming, nonchalant threat to Ed’s newfound existence.

The fact that Pearson has neurofibromatosis, and that Stan wears a lot of makeup to mimic that condition, may raise some eyebrows. And after different man It’s very much about the art of imitating life and vice versa, and thinking about the different masks – whether real or artificial – that we wear when going out into the world.

At first, the story is set like a typical indie drama set in New York City, with Ed living in a dingy one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn while trying to become an actor. He has a nosy neighbor, at least one neighbor who hates him, and a leak in his roof that’s growing so big that he risks swallowing it. The problem is that Ed’s disfigured condition makes him quite conspicuous, at least to the viewer. To those who already know him, he seems to be just a shy and stingy Niu Yaoka.

Things start to improve when she discovers her new neighbor, the flamboyant Ingrid (Renate Rainsvi, The worst person in the world), moves in next door. Like Ed, she is an aspiring artist—a playwright, in fact—and the two soon hit it off, even if Ed is very restricted by his appearance. Ingrid is more open and curious, and one of the new aspects of Shimberg’s script is how, unlike David Lynch’s screenplay Elephant manAlmost everyone Ed meets treats him with respect and compassion.

The first half of the film is filled with well-observed tales of dystopian New York humour, whether it’s troubled people losing their minds in the street, weary subway riders ignoring Ed as he walks home, or, in an amusingly tragic scene, the arrival of Mr. Softee’s truck. Just as a neighbor’s body is being removed from the building. “He reminds me of Woody Allen,” someone said of Ed, and if it weren’t for his face, he’d be just another sad sack wandering around the lonely town.

The monotonous life of a failed actor takes a major turn when he agrees to participate in an experimental drug program that could cure his condition. After several scenes of Cronenberg’s body horror, he begins peeling off his tumors like a snake shedding its skin, transforming into a whole new person with a well-defined Stan face.

You might think this would be for the best, but as… different man He reveals that things are actually getting worse. Ed soon misses the man he once was, especially when Pearson’s character enters the picture and casually hijacks his life, including Ed’s blossoming love affair with Ingrid.

These and other plot mechanisms in Shimberg’s screenplay can seem a bit over the top, especially when Ed begins to lose his mind in the third act as everything unfolds. However, the story’s twists and turns keep our interest throughout, as the narrative takes the form of a play within a cleverly deconstructed film reminiscent, at times, of a Charlie Kaufman play. Syndicate, New York.

The antics were captured in grainy, natural photographs by Wyatt Garfield (the kitchen) and backed by Umberto Smerelli’s music, which moves between indie vibes and classic Hollywood B-movie melodies. different man It moves between many genres as well, but Shimberg manages to tie things together neatly by asking the same question, in different ways, until the final scene: What’s in the face?