I desperately wish that I wasn’t an inherently nosey person.
Maybe it comes from my close relationship with my mother and my grandma—who’ve always been notorious gossipers. I grew up on the outside of hushed conversations and with the knowledge that phone calls behind closed doors were not to be interrupted, but I’ve gotten bold enough with age to inquire about the details at a later time. Talking about other people’s lives has somehow made the three of us even more close-knit.
Or maybe it came from my obsession with television growing up. Whenever I had a moment to spare, I was searching for a new story born from the mind of a creative genius that was easier to absorb in my very much less-than-genius brain.
That incessant need to observe a snippet of someone else’s storyline has only continued as I’ve matured. Now, I’ve traded in my interest for the chronicles of Thomas the Train in preference to more thought-provoking films. With this, I’ve also become more and more involved in the lives of the actors who take the form of my favorite characters on the big screen, which is why I haven’t forgotten a televised award show in recent years.
It’s rewarding, in a way, to witness a celebrity being honored for portraying someone in a body of work that impacted others as much as it impacted me. Being familiar with the timing of events, I knew I had to prepare myself for the much-anticipated Golden Globes show, as 2024 was a big year full of big names in the industry.
As much as I enjoy my sleep, I stayed up for the ceremony, and when Sebastian Stan won his well-deserved decoration for his contributions to the industry, I knew I had to watch the movie that brought him such success.
A Different Man follows the life of Edward (Sebastian Stan), a severely insecure aspiring actor who figures his lack of success is due to an extreme facial disfigurement he’s been dealt. A desperate involvement in a medical experiment leaves him with more than just his fantasized appearance, nobody recognizes him anymore, allowing him the opportunity to resuscitate his life under the pseudonym of “Guy.” Years later, he auditions for a play his former neighbor, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), wrote about him in his memory following the pseudocide. It is there that he meets Oswald (Adam Pearson), a man coping with the exact same condition that previously afflicted Edward. Seeing how reassured and confident Oswald is with his appearance reminds Edward of his ideal persona, and the fact that he’s being overshadowed gradually drives him into lunacy.
Although this is an A24 production, whose films have left me unsatisfied in the past, I decided to give this a try due to Stan’s involvement and the heartwarming acceptance speech he delivered at the Golden Globes; it did not fall short of any expectations. Given that it is produced by this specific company, I was guaranteed to be slightly disturbed by the style of the film—which it did as it began in the body-horror genre—but that was something I quickly overcame because of the underlying meaning that captivated me.
There were so many things to love about this film, but it was the little complexities that fascinated me the most.
Despite the fact that this is far from a comedic performance, there were subtly witty lines from Edward that showcased the shift in his personality after his transformation. From being an apprehensive and anxious person to being confident enough to poke fun at people, I was delighted to witness the way he grew in at least one aspect of his life.
The symbol that remained constant throughout all three acts of the film was the red typewriter Edward found on the street that sparked the initial interaction between him and Ingrid, providing hope for a relationship exceeding just neighbors.
At first, it seems to be something of a conversation piece between the two when she notices the single sentence he noted on it, delving into the emotional impact people’s vulgar comments have on his self-perception. When their interactions become persistent, Edward presents Ingrid with the typewriter in hopes that an aspiring writer has more use for it than him.
However, in the second act, when he finds himself drawn back to Ingrid’s apartment after his transformation, he inquires of the gift. Offering no sense of sentimentality towards their previous relationship, she says that she found it on the street—proving her connection towards Edward was only fuel for her creativity, holding no weight.
The continuous details I wish I could interpret in further detail demonstrated that this was a movie to be observed closely and analyzed. It could be viewed without any further research, but there’s no fun in the lack of takeaways from that.
Plus, the unparalleled production of A Different Man was celebrated with its Golden Globe success in hopes that this film will pave the way for ignorance surrounding disfigurement to cease.
“Encourage acceptance. One way we can do that is by continuing to champion stories that are inclusive.” ~Sebastian Stan