You take a walk and begin noticing. Maybe it happens gradually or maybe it happens immediately - but you always notice. Every single person you walk past has a story of their own - and perhaps each one is a story more fulfilling and happier than yours. Maybe you’re single and see couples walk while holding hands, smiling as they share funny anecdotes with each other. In this moment, you’ve put yourself into a single story narrative - one that paints you as the outcast, the “other” that doesn’t belong with everyone else.

This feeling often goes hand-in-hand with disability. Whether mental or physical, disabilities often instill biases within us - ones where we’re convinced that we aren’t as desirable or “normal” as other, non-disabled people. It’s this bias that naturally creates a resentment towards our own conditions - we wish that we can be more “normal” and have a greater acceptance among society. Maybe our disability limits our career potential and ambitions. Maybe it causes strain on our personal lives and relationships. Disabilities can and often do provide additional challenges in life that need to be overcome. But with disabilities comes with a longing - a desire to be free of the disability we think may define us and lead a “normal” life, unshackled by the condition we were previously convinced had confined our potential.

In A24’s recent release, A Different Man, directed by Aaron Schimberg, this is at the forefront of the mind of the film’s protagonist, Edward, played by Sebastian Stan. Edward is a man with neurofibromatosis - a condition that gives him a severe facial deformity. EOne day, after going back to his apartment after an acting gig, he meets his new neighbor, Ingrid, played by Renate Reinsve, a woman he later learns is a playwright. Upon first sight of him, Ingrid exhibits a reaction that is common if ever-heartbreaking to see in the face of those with physical disabilities - she gets startled and takes a step back. Edward awkwardly shuffles into his apartment as Ingrid moves her coach into her apartment. Edward and Ingrid shortly talk with each other, and the two slowly get to learn more about each other, before Edward gives Ingrid a barely-used typewriter.

Shortly afterward, we see Edward take a walk and begin noticing. He looks around and sees the many other people that get to have life experiences that he’s convinced he’ll never get to have. He looks over to see a man that’s also living in his apartment building walking on a trail with a woman in what appears to be a date. The man and woman are smiling and laughing, all to the distant observation of Edward. Due to the severity of Edward’s condition, we don’t get to see Edward’s expression at this point in the film, but we do manage to feel the sorrow in his eyes - the longing for life to be different than what it is for him. The other man from the apartment building appears to have everything that Edward wants - a shot at a normal life and a chance to be in a relationship like a “normal” person. The other man gets to smile and live what appears to be a fulfilling, complete life. Edward clearly longs for that in this scene.

In the scenes to follow, we see Edward begin treatment for an experimental drug that will possibly cure his condition. Edward agrees to go through with the procedure in light of the promise that he’ll finally be able to appear like a non-disabled person. After Edward begins the procedure, Edward and Ingrid spend more time with each other as innocent flirtations lead to an awkward but genuine connection to form between the two. Despite his social plainness, Ingrid takes an interest in Edward and understanding the condition of his life and career. In spite of this connection, Edward continues with the procedure. In a later scene, Edward is woken up in the middle of the night as paramedics appear to be looking for someone in the building Edward lives in. After a moment, they find who they’re looking for - the very same man that Edward was comparing himself to the other day. The man that Edward had previously longed to be like had now hung himself in his apartment.

In the wake of this discovery, Edward looks down from his apartment window, as the absurd visual of an ice cream truck trying to drive around an ambulance comes into view (in what’s easily the funniest scene in this black comedy). Edward reflects on what he’s seen - a man that had seemed to be happy, fulfilled, and had the chance to live a “normal” life felt compelled to end his own life. The muse for Edward’s longing for a more “normal” life was, in actuality, one of a silent suffering. This very suffering is one we often blind ourselves from when we create single story narratives where we choose to believe that people that live a more “normal” life compared to our own are happier and less prone to sorrow and meaninglessness. Edward never knew the man that is now dead - he just assumed that he was happy based on his able-bodied condition and appearance of happiness. This foreshadows the direction that A Different Man takes throughout its runtime.

As Edward’s use of the experimental drug continues, more and more of his facial deformity’s skin comes off. In one scene that evokes some body horror imagery with the amount of flesh getting peeled off accompanied by some gore, Edward looks at his new face - one that is now free emblematic of the very normalcy that he had pined for earlier in the film’s first act. Edward has now gotten exactly what he’s wanted, and now he goes out to test just how different this normalcy will feel.

Indeed, we immediately see a difference in the way that Edward gets treated by strangers. We see Edward in a bar both before and after his condition changes. After Edward has removed his physical disability, he is treated far more favorably and sociably by the bar’s tenants. Edward gets roped into conversations with strangers, gets to cheer with sports fans, and ultimately gets to enjoy a night where he feels like he belongs with a community of people. The following morning, he returns to his apartment where the doctor leading the experiment reaches out to Edward, not recognizing Edward for his drastically different appearance. When asked, Edward tells the doctor that Edward is, in fact, dead - a victim of suicide. Edward then chooses to identify himself as Guy. Ingrid overhears this revelation as the film’s first act concludes.

This is where A Different Man completely lays out its thesis - in the face of living life with a disability, we convince ourselves that life would be better if we weren’t held back by our physical or mental handicaps. But as A Different Man quickly illustrates with the man in the apartment hanging himself, this narrative is often an incorrect one. In actuality, finding fulfillment in life is a complex journey that involves an ever-shifting entanglement of factors. The means through which we find happiness are layered and can’t be simplified to whether we’re “normal” or not. Edward’s otherization has only held him back as much as he has allowed it to.

Now that he has effectively killed his old self and has become a new, able-bodied person, the rest of A Different Man is devoted to exploring the consequences of Edward abandoning his more genuine self. The result is a film that smartly assesses individuality and being authentic to one’s self, and what happens when we abandon that for the sake of appearing more “normal”. While the film’s thesis is one that’s fascinating and thoughtful, it unfortunately stumbles with a direction that adds unnecessary layers and details to an otherwise well-constructed story.

The second act begins with Edward, now fully embracing the identity of Guy, being the face of a real estate firm. He reunites with Ingrid, who is now putting together a play that is recreating the story of her short-lived relationship with Edward. Guy tries out for the part of Edward after walking in on open auditions. In a scene that’s difficult to suspend my disbelief for, Guy ends up getting the part of Edward despite horrendously reading the lines given to him for the audition. He wins this part over a disabled person that could more authentically represent the disabled character of Edward.

There are remnants of a broader commentary on the ethics of depicting disabled characters with able-bodied actors throughout A Different Man. However, this aspect of the film’s commentary always feels more like a side-tangent rather than a thought fully explored in the film.

After working with each other on the play, Guy begins an intimate relationship with Ingrid - something that he feels he was prevented from having as Edward due to his disability. Although, Guy’s understanding of their relationship, including Ingrid’s true feelings for Edward, comes into question when Ingrid seemingly doesn’t care about the typewriter that Edward gave Ingrid earlier in the film. In a smart use of dramatic irony, we see her lie about where she got the typewriter and that Guy can take it from her if he wants. This casual dismissal puts Ingrid’s character into question - as it becomes increasingly unclear if Ingrid was ever interested in Edward as a person or is merely using his existence to write a character in a play.

Throughout this act of the film, we see a stark difference in the way that Guy presents himself compared to when he was Edward. The awkward but genuine personality of Edward has now been replaced by someone that lacks any kind of individuality. Guy is a bland , and increasingly resentful man that seems defensive over anything that’s critical of Edward as a character in the play. Guy has lost his individuality in the pursuit of being considered “normal”. He’s gotten the relationship with a woman that he pined for earlier in the film. He’s gotten to become a more socially “normal” individual. But like with the man who hung himself earlier in the film, it’s clear that normalcy hasn’t given Guy any sense of happiness or fulfillment.

Adding upon this is the inclusion of Oswald, played by Adam Pearson. Oswald is another man with neurofibromatosis but is as much of an opposite as Edward/Guy as possible. He’s sociable, kind to others, and embraces his individuality as much as possible. He walks in on the play’s rehearsals one day and commends Guy for his performance. Guy and Oswald reunite later, where it becomes clear just how much charisma Oswald has. He naturally charms other characters and indeed the film’s audience. He partakes in karaoke, reconnects with people in the bar, and even turns down replacing Guy’s part in the Edward play just so Guy can still be part of the production. By all means, Oswald is a lovable character because he doesn’t shy away from embracing what makes him Oswald.

This only creates a deeper resentment within Guy. He went through such effort to suppress his older self - he was ashamed to live life with a disability that made him appear so different to others. But now, Oswald’s presence implies that it never needed to be that way for Edward/Guy. If Edward had simply led his life with a kind soul that embraced his individuality instead of wallowing in despair for not being like other people that he didn’t even know, maybe he could have had the things he always wanted without having to effectively kill his old self. In time, Oswald attains everything that Edward/Guy has wanted - a healthy relationship with Ingrid, a successful acting role, and a sense of belonging with a community of people. This only accelerates Guy’s resentment for Oswald as he transforms into a fully detestable, cynical character.

A Different Man is a film ultimately concerned with our relationship with individuality and the comparisons we make with others. Edward/Guy is a man that views his own disability with shame and as something that needs to be eliminated in order for him to live an impactful life. Oswald, on the other hand, is a character that is beloved by his peers and leads life with a curious, kind soul in spite of his disability. He hasn’t let any single story narrative negatively affect the way he treats himself and interacts with other people. A Different Man highlights the burden of comparison to others through the lens of disability. When we decide to walk and begin noticing, we can either choose to make what we notice a negative comparison towards ourselves, or we can simply become part of what we notice. We can either suppress and change ourselves for the sake of fitting in, or we can embrace what makes us unique and achieve success in spite of any possible obstacles.

The film’s exploration of this dichotomy is thoughtful, but it unfortunately brings with it some bloat. The film’s third act, in particular, seems to struggle with deciding on where it wants its characters to end up. There are some confusing narrative choices in relation to how Guy’s relationship with Ingrid and Oswald proceeds that don’t feel narratively cohesive, particularly with regard to his confusing cohabitation with them after a particular event occurs in the film’s final half hour. Ultimately, A Different Man’s third act feels confused and lacks the direction of the rest of the film, making for an ending that feels meandering and unfulfilling.

Despite being a black comedy, A Different Man decides not to provide too many laughs as it instead focuses on telling a thoughtful story about disability, individuality, and the narratives that we can put ourselves into. While the film fumbles its ending and loses some of its thought-provoking through line as it approaches the finish line, A Different Man is still a film very much worth seeing for its insightful exploration of two characters on the opposite sides of embracing their individuality and perspectives on how their disability affects their lives. For a film that invokes the experience of noticing, there’s a lot worth looking at in spite of its impairments.

Final Grade: B-

Thank you very much for reading! What are your thoughts on A Different Man? As always, join the conversation and let me know what you think in the comments, on Twitter/X @DerekExMachina, or on Bluesky.