A DIFFERENT MAN: Dismantling The Disorder Drama

A Different Man brings up the story of Beauty and the Beast for a particular reason. For those who have watched the Disney film multiple times, the thought has probably crossed the mind that the Beast looks better as a beast than a man. This thought usually occurs as we don’t see much of the non-furry Beast until the film ends. We’ve grown so used to the furry monster that it’s hard to imagine him looking different. How does life go on for him? This film tackles that question while staging an intricate satire of dramas centering around disabilities.

An Uncertain Face

The movie starts with some familiar ingredients. Sebastian Stan plays the struggling actor, Edward; his passion is made more challenging by his condition of neurofibromatosis. The only work he can do is to create informative videos about the condition, where his tumors and loose skin become the only reasons he is hired. He tries to better himself and finds himself attracted to his new neighbor, the playwright Ingrid (Renate Reinsve).

Though Edward means well, he can’t get over how people look at him and how few roles he can gain in his current state. Then, a miracle comes in the form of a new surgery that can reshape his face. Soon after the procedure, he looks like Sebastian Stan and his life turns around, trading in his moldy apartment as an actor for an upscale apartment as a famous real estate agent.

A New Challenger

But the film is only half over. It’s not a happily ever after for Edward, as he still longs for Ingrid’s love. Under a new name, he tries out for her play based on her attraction to Edward, whom she once knew. Hoping she’ll recognize and accept him with his new face, Edward earns the role of the neurofibromatosis protagonist of this stage drama, adopting makeup that doesn’t quite stick.

But then the entire premise is turned on its head with the arrival of Oswald, played by Adam Pearson, a real actor with real-life neurofibromatosis. Oswald is hired into the play as a consultant and is more charming and cultured than Edward. Despite Edward going so far as to convince Ingrid to follow him to bed, he can’t compete with Oswald. It isn’t long before the charming man with neurofibromatosis steals the show and Ingrid’s heart, sending Edward into a bitter spiral of regret and uncertainty about what he wants out of life.

Confronting and Questioning Depiction

This type of satire has so many layers and never rests on one message. The very presence of Pearson calls into question the entire genre being evoked here, where the audience starts questioning how accurate and effective Stan’s makeup effects were in depicting neurofibromatosis. This is even called out directly when Pearson’s input on the film’s play is more or less a critique of dramas staged around genetic conditions. While his comments are delivered with gentleness and artistic respect, they sting like acid for someone who believes a pretty face guarantees happiness.

There’s a quiet sense of condemnation for Edward more on an internal level. There’s a bitterness in realizing how empty redefining your life can be. How could Edward have failed to get the part and fall in love with the Ingrid when he looks like Sebastian Stan? As one of Edward’s neighbors remarks earlier in the film, it’s more about confidence inside than the presence on the outside. Edward learns this lesson the hard way, where sex in a bar bathroom and a stylish apartment are short-term victories. This realization and downward spiral create an unorthodox level of comedy, where it’s amusing to see how many tropes are challenged and scrutinized, with a chipper Pearson orchestrating this surreal parade.

No Cure For Charisma

An angle I found myself drawn towards is how the film perhaps indirectly questions the autism cure movement. Some people would rather have those with disorders remove that part of themselves than live with and accommodate others. It’s not possible with something like autism, but even if it were, there’s a greater question of how much of your own identity is removed by removing this part of yourself. This film takes that idea and applies it in a way that explores the insidious ways it destroys individuality but also explores the absurdity of believing beauty will resolve all.

This is only one angle to consider, and there are several thematic threads that the movie spins. Rather than settle on one form of satire or psychological strangeness, the story keeps snowballing with Edward’s increased loathing and Oswald’s growing presence, where his charm is so natural he could easily convince you to join a cult (and pretty much does by the finale). Every unique angle is explored, as though director Aaron Schimberg considers the next wild spot for the film to go next, darting from awkward stage performances to demolishing apartment ceilings in frustration. By never properly settling, the film becomes more fascinating in how it keeps questioning with its many hard turns and detours, changing the narrative with a constant need to explore that uncertain area few dramas dare to tread.

Conclusion: A Different Man

A Different Man catapults the rigid drama of disorders into rocky and reinvigorating territory as it questions with confident absurdity. It’s hard to peg this film as any specific type of drama or comedy, where it calls it a satire of dramas using disorders as a prop feels too simple. Through its rich mix of dark comedic elements and deeper psychological questioning, something fascinating is evoked as the camera is turned around, and all perceptions are shattered. I couldn’t stop thinking about this film long after it reached the abrupt conclusion, where the film doesn’t so much reach a comedic crescendo as it does arrive at an abrupt moment of realization, where the line between pity and putrid is given a much-needed smear of realism.

A Different Man is currently playing in theaters.