Identity is a popular theme among contemporary filmmakers and from an anthropological perspective, it paints a bleak picture of humanity and our disconnect with the world. The population, by and large, doesn’t recognize themselves and looks for validation in a new identity. Of course, it would be impossible to live on the internet and not come across some discourse surrounding trans rights. The disgusting political campaigning that uses trans people as a punching bag for political capital shows why the trans community finds it hard to accept their identity in a society that is trying to reject the host. Feelings of an existential nature preside over many leading to more cinematic escapism related to identity.
Aaron Schimburg’s A Different Man deals directly with these themes of identity lost and found. Edward (Sebastian Stan) is the walking personification of identity crisis. He changes drastically throughout the film, revealing his life as a disfigured and isolated individual is what gave him his specialty. As he sheds his skin, he loses any semblance of himself in the process.
Adam Pearson as Oswald
During that process, we are granted the rare opportunity to watch a truly transcendent, born-to-play performance with Adam Pearson as Oswald. Pearson appears directed and written to sink into his personality and play it as naturally as possible, showing off a truly delightful person in every sense of the word. And, a gifted actor at that – dramatic, comedic, or otherwise, Pearson deeply understood each story beat of Schimburg’s script.
As Oswald begins to live out Edward’s past life in front of him, his dreams, his desires. Edward’s detachment towards the world is outwardly present, and he’s unable to interact with the things around him. The passivity to all his action after the skin graft and yearning for his past life by seeking out Ingrid (Renate Reinsve) and forcing himself into the play.
Yet Oswald is a reinissance man. Capable of expression on a deeper level than the average person. Edward has no even foundational understanding of sharing or expressing the basic feelings. The two are aligned at the core, but complete opposites of personality. Edward used his disfigurement as a reason to shy away from the world. Oswald takes his abnormality and erases it from his subconcious. Pearson’s witicisms and delivery tell two stories: one of a person that is fully confident in their own skin and the other overcompensating to survive. The (three) central performances are radically different from the next and lead to a greater sense of self discovery.
Sebastian Stan as Edward
The story device of the audience knowing more than the character’s on Edward’s identity can be frustrating, but there’s an intentional element to it that mirrors what Edward is feeling inside. He appears hurt by Ingrid’s fascination with Oswald, at first, but it fades into something lesser and darker, as he appears no attachment to his physical or mental body and mind.
Initially, Edward, now as “Guy” with his new look, assumes the role of a machismo yuppie type that bangs out sales in the daytime and takes shots at night. He adapts his identity to appease society and in doing so, loses every piece of his former self. Stan’s deadpan delivery after the prosthetic came off is the perfect conduit to experience Edward’s disillusionment and disassociation with his own body.
Using a mask of his own face to hide his pain, Guy Moretz is a tragedy of a person. As Oswald is the most self-assured and fascinating person on the planet earth, thanks entirely to Pearson’s influence, Edward’s regret and jealousy is too unbearable. Written to showcase a man living out the life he was destined to live right in front of him, and how that man would react. It’s devastatingly sad but goes beyond one simple emotion, but an unorthodox feeling of loss without a death or breakup. Orchestrated through these two performances.
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