A Different Man

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So, it turns out there is something bad about watching movies on an airplane. Beside the tiny screen it turns out they sometimes edit the shit out of the thing. I mean I kind of knew that, but I thought that was a thing of the past. When they used to show the movies on those screens in the middle of the aisle where impressionable youngsters could see them. But, no, apparently they even hack apart films that you are watching in the semi-privacy of your airline seat. I’m not sure that made a huge difference to A Different Man other than to cut out some sex/nudity, maybe? Honestly, I don’t know what was missing, but I could tell something was off. Granted, the whole movie is such a mash-up of body horror, sci-fi, psychological drama and a really, really dark sense of humor (or irony) that it’s hard to hone in on anything as it continues to shift gears and bewilder us with its left turns.

We have Sebastian Stan. He’s the dude with the metal arm from the Marvel movies. I suppose I’ve seen him in others things, but he never really pinged for me. I feel like he mostly played supporting roles and, as a kind of vaguely Eastern European guy, kind of just seemed like every other slightly shady, stocky dude from Coney Island. Like if he hadn’t hit with the Winter Soldier, he would have played Russian heavy #6 in Eastern Promises and Russian heavy #3 in John Wick. So, it’s interesting that he starts this movie with a mask on. Not a superhero mask, mind you, but a mask to mimic neurofibromatosis, a condition in which tumors grow on his nervous system and, in his case, deform his head and face to a pretty significant degree. But apparently only his head and face. I don’t know how the condition works, but that seems… selective. In any case, Edward (Stan) is a struggling actor. It’s a little unclear how he pays the rent on his apartment or eats, but the only role we see him land is for one of those cheesy, low-budget workplace videos about how to treat your “different” co-workers. Of course the director makes him moan and act kind of monstrous like the elephant man, which is super-uncomfortable. In his life in NYC, people on the subway look at him, but aren’t outwardly horrified by his appearance. Mostly because it’s New York and there’s always going to be something better to stare at.

Meanwhile, Edward gets a new neighbor, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve). She’s kind to him and he clearly develops romantic feelings toward her, but is too insecure to make a move. She claims to be a playwright, so he gives her a typewriter he got out of the garbage, which in some way becomes a symbol of the passing of something I’m not smart enough to explain. These are two people with no discernible income and dubious levels of talent at their given trade. This will come into play later. As a result of a stunted romantic gesture and perceived rejection Edward somehow finds a place that will do experimental surgery on him to reverse his condition. Him assuming he isn’t getting parts or the girl because of his deformity and not because maybe he’s not a great actor or a smooth dude, he takes the leap. Enter body horror as he recovers from the procedure, rolling around in pain in his apartment as stuff falls off of him and weeping soars are wrapped in bandages, etc. Eventually he fully heals and he’s Sebastian Stan! All while his rent somehow gets paid.

Of course rather than just telling Ingrid or anyone else that he’s still Edward and had this surgery, he claims Edward killed himself and he’s a new guy, literally named Guy. Rather than go back into acting as a guy who now looks like an actor — even if he’s probably only going to be cast as Russian thug #4 in action movies — he goes into real estate for some reason? This whole diversion into real estate sales was an odd choice. I’m sure there’s some deeper meaning here, but whatever the case it felt super-random and kind of took me out of the movie. In any case, he’s good at selling apartments. Certainly better than he is at acting. But one day he’s walking around the East Village and sees that his old neighbor, Ingrid, is putting on a play called Edward. And guess who it’s about?! Finally a role he’s built to play, but is no longer Edward. The horror. The irony. The movie construct! From here he walks in and actually gets the part. He gets the girl. But, as it turns out, being Guy doesn’t mean he’s any better at either. He gets the foot in the door, sure, but maybe he’s just mid and it wasn’t his face that was holding him back. At least that’s sort of what I took from it, but I’m sure the theme is supposed to be something else. Or maybe it’s just a Twilight Zone ironic horror thing that just tries to make us feel icky. Mission accomplished.

And, in the ultimate irony, both his part and his lady are taken by a version of his old self. In the form of Oswald (Adam Pearson), an actor and a character with neurofibromatosis and on whose face the makers of the film obviously modeled the original Edward character. He walks into the rehearsals one day and sets the spiral in motion. Though, frankly, Oswald’s acting seems pretty terrible. But he looks the part. And, unlike Guy, doesn’t need a mask to play the role and can actually remember his lines. There are layers of meta here as Ingrid toys with before/after scenario with Oswald and Guy (which could have theoretically happened in the film itself with Pearson and Stan if Stan was willing to do a very English accent) but ultimately exits Guy from Edward, a play based on him. Guy spirals and things go haywire. Like a lot of indie films, it just gets dark. But this is also a really dark comedy, so the darkness is tinged with a little bit of wackiness and deeply unrealistic and ironic scenarios. The film does unravel quite a bit as it barrels toward an ending. It’s not American Psycho level chaos and surreality, but it does feel like this thoughtful meditation on whatever the hell is going on becomes unmoored and unfocused with a little too much slapstick for its own good.

The question I have pertains more to the Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip effect than anything else. It’s the problem where you have to write and perform a show within a show. 30 Rock solved this by making the show within the show kind of… bad. So when they gave us skits from The Girlie Show or TGS with Tracy Jordan we knew they were mostly going to be stupid fart jokes and silliness. Studio 60 purported to be a successful SNL-like production, but they failed to create a convincing matrix of that show within the show. Here, this Edward play is supposed to be a huge success and subsequently Ingrid a vaunted playwright and Oswald the toast of the town. Thing is, we see snippets of the play and Oswald’s acting and the play itself are pretty dreadful. At least in my viewing of it. So, I’m not certain if that’s the point? That these two become successful and famous based on some serious dreck, or is the play actually supposed to be good? It seems Ingrid only has this one idea. And that Oswald can really only play this one part. Ultimately, I’m not certain what the point of all this is other than to tell a really fucked-up story and beat on poor Sebastian Stan. If that’s it, though, bravo.