A Different Man is a remarkable dark comedy anchored by unforgettable performances

When audiences first meet A Different Man protagonist Edward (Sebastian Stan), a man living with neurofibromatosis, he’s screaming. Pounding on an office wall while emitting cries of anguish, a co-worker pokes his head in through a door. After being asked if he’s okay, Edward responds “Yes, this just happens sometimes.” As the camera pulls out, we see Edward on a film set, playing the role of a frustrated office worker. After the cameras stop rolling, an unnamed director (Patrick Wang) walks up to Edward and tells him to dial back his screams on the next take. In the hope of “not making people uncomfortable”, Edward’s passionate performance is diluted.

It's a microcosm of Edward's difficult existence every day. While navigating a quiet life as a sporadically working actor, Edward deals with inescapable eyes staring at his face. Writer/director Aaron Schimberg eventually depicts this man discovering a revolutionary medical procedure that will remove his neurofibromatosis. After this process proves successful, Edward looks so radically different that he takes on a new identity, Guy. Shortly afterward, his former neighbor, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), begins putting together a play based on Edward's original life. Edward is determined to play the role but faces stiff competition from Oswalt (Adam Pearson). This deeply confident man activates an identity-based spiral within Edward so profound it would inspire any man to scream.

Earlier this year, I saw Fantasy A Gets a Mattress, a movie about an autistic rapper living in Seattle. The feature delivered an inspiring rebuke to typical cinematic depictions of autistic people, where neurotypical folks are the straight men to "wacky" caricatures of autism. Here, the autistic Fantasy A is a much more composed and confident figure than various intentionally arch neurotypical characters. A similar phenomenon is at play in Schimberg’s A Different Man. Both the script and visual aesthetic are very naturalistic in depicting the lives of disabled characters Edward and Oswalt. There’s no sensationalism in chronicling their existences, just ordinary depictions of everyday activities.

By contrast, able-bodied bystanders to these two are much more oversized creations. In an extended single-take, Schimberg depicts Edward getting cornered by a random man named Guy Gaunt (Doug Barron). This intoxicated fellow is convinced he's seen Edward somewhere. Capturing this interaction in a single lengthy image heightens the cringe-inducing awkwardness of this exchange. However, the writing, performance, and even costume design of Gaunt are so fascinatingly heightened. He’s as bizarre as a random supporting player from Uncut Gems. A similar approach is taken to other briefly seen characters like Edward’s co-worker who’s obsessed with the word “man-candy” or a chatty casually ableist guy Edward encounters at another bar.

Typically, disabled folks of all stripes are rendered as creatures from another planet in cinematic storytelling. In A Different Man, dark comedy emerges from capturing the true lunacy of able-bodied people. It’s a delicately subversive touch that doesn’t just upend traditional cinematic depictions of disabilities. This quality also informs several memorable darkly comedic jokes that Schimberg and cinematographer Wyatt Garfield execute with visual deftness.

The increasingly pronounced bleak humor of A Different Man at times leans into a world of farce recalling the works of playwright Eugène Ionesco or BoJack Horseman’s never-ending internal turmoil. This unique tableau provides richly complex characters for actors like Stan, Reinsve, and Pearson to inhabit. Edward is an especially intriguing role for Stan to take on in one of his first major lead roles. Beyond his obvious Marvel Cinematic Universe work, Stan's delivered deeply memorable supporting performances in recent indies like I, Tonya, Destroyer, or Fresh. Now he's the first one on the call sheet. He's also handling a lot more nuanced material than Bucky Barnes ever grappled with.

What’s immediately striking about Stan’s performance is the way his arms dangle on the side of his body. Edward constantly lets his hands float around, aimlessly, even after that fateful medical procedure. It’s as if the only part of his body he’s truly concerned with is the face the rest of the world mocks. That subtle detail really speaks volumes about the intricacy Stan applies to the character. He deftly builds on his intricate I, Tonya acting to render a constantly tortured man who believes all his problems are external. It’s a very chaotic and complicated turn that Stan realizes with commendable precision.

Pearson, meanwhile, is an utterly captivating presence in A Different Man. He immediately blows in as the most confident human being in a movie full of people who refuse to write down their plays or speak their minds. That’s not Oswald. Armed with an array of colorful Hawaiian shirts, Pearson portrays an absorbing figure radiating an inviting presence. He’s the life of the party, the kind of guy everybody wants to be around. Those qualities are especially potent playing off of Edward’s often sullen personality. Pearson conjures up a terrifically engrossing performance. Comparing this to his intentionally withdrawn work in Under the Skin crystallizes the actor’s remarkable versatility. There’s lots to commend in A Different Man’s exploration of identity and deeply nuanced tone. However, Pearson’s work as Oswald is undoubtedly the must-see element of the production.

Even with such striking performances, it’s doubtful A Different Man will be everyone’s cup of tea. Its grim tone and dark comedy (both elements especially becoming discernible in a series of “conclusions” that keep piling anguish onto Edward) will inevitably turn off some viewers. For others seeking out something that harkens back to the dark complexities of Hiroshi Teshigahara's The Face of Another, A Different Man should hit the spot. Here is a motion picture that has its messy facets (like Ingrid’s lack of a discernible personality in the final 30 minutes), but they’re all in service of such interesting thought-provoking themes and images. Plus, even if the pitch-black humor doesn’t sit right with you, the 16mm photography looks glorious on the big screen. In other words, it’s doubtful you’ll be leaving the theater screaming in disappointment like Edward during that one video shoot.