When Adam Pearson was young, he rubbed elbows with celebrities. “I was at Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital, one of the best pediatric institutes in the world,” he recalls of the London facility, “and they often had famous people come in to meet the kids. I met Boyzone, a big Irish boy band in the ’90s. The other one was Princess Diana.” The British actor was 5 when he was diagnosed with neurofibromatosis Type 1, a condition that resulted in the growth of large tumors across his face. Those tumors would often cause passersby to gawk cruelly, which made Pearson feel an unlikely kinship with the notable figures who stopped by the hospital. “I was like, ‘Oh, these people get the same staring and pointing I do, but people seem to like them.’ I wasn’t resentful, it was just an observation I made as a 12-year-old: ‘Oh, OK, that’s fascinating.’”
Decades later, Pearson, who turns 40 in January, is on a Zoom call from London alongside his co-star Sebastian Stan, beaming in from New York, to discuss their thought-provoking, satirical film “A Different Man,” which is all about appearance and perception. Writer-director Aaron Schimberg introduces us to Edward (Stan), a struggling actor with neurofibromatosis who believes he’ll be happier once he undergoes an experimental procedure that removes his tumors, revealing the sexy man underneath. Later walking around New York with a new identity — that of the slick real estate agent Guy — he discovers that the aspiring playwright he pined for, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), has written a drama about his former self, who will be portrayed by Oswald (Pearson), a happy, charming man with neurofibromatosis. Guy looks on in horror as his old life is played with such flair by Oswald, who steals Ingrid away as well. Maybe it wasn’t his condition that had held him back — maybe it was just him.
Oscar-nominated makeup artist Mike Marino used groundbreaking prosthetics in collaboration with the actor Sebastian Stan for A24’s “A Different Man.”
Stan, 42, found two-time Oscar-nominated makeup artist Mike Marino to craft the realistic mask for Edward. But there was something even more important for Stan to get right. “I wanted to talk to Adam about how he was feeling about myself playing this part and having someone step into these shoes without neurofibromatosis,” he says. “Just really trying to be mindful and understand how I need to approach this so I can be of service to the character but also to somebody who actually has this condition.”
It was during those initial conversations that Pearson, who previously appeared in “Under the Skin” and starred in Schimberg’s 2018 drama “Chained for Life,” gave Stan, best known as the Winter Soldier in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the insight that living with neurofibromatosis was not dissimilar to being famous. “They both come with certain levels of invasiveness,” Pearson explains. “You almost become public property. The public feels that you owe them something. So while Sebastian might not know the staring, the name-calling, the camera phones in a way I do, he certainly knows what it’s like to have people think [they] deserve to have a selfie with him.”
The absolute honesty between the two actors was crucial for a film that is candid about the stigmas around disfigurement. Schimberg, who became friends with Pearson during “Chained for Life,” also drew from his own experience with a cleft palate. “Aaron is such an incredible writer — he’s set up these things that rope you in as a viewer to judge Edward because of his appearance,” Stan says. “We project these stereotypical thoughts: ‘He’s lonely, somebody’s taken pity on him.’”
But with Oswald, “We haven’t made the connection yet that someone like Adam could actually be OK with themselves — and not only that, incredibly confident and accepting of themselves as they are.”
Sebastian Stan plays a facially deformed actor who emerges from a miracle cure to realize he’s lost something deeper, in a movie co-starring Renate Reinsve.
Indeed, “A Different Man” toys with our expectations, depicting Oswald as the life of the party, while the conventionally handsome Guy is riddled with insecurity. Unsurprisingly, Stan and Pearson have noticed that viewers sometimes don’t know what to make of Schimberg’s acerbic sense of humor.
“I’m always looking around to see what’s landing and what isn’t landing, because I’ve never had an audience react the same way,” Pearson says, amused. “Everyone finds different things either funny or uncomfortable.”
“The film asks very important questions in terms of disability and disfigurement,” adds Stan, “but we can also offer people permission to experience the film as they might. It is funny. Aaron Schimberg has said, ‘If you think this is a comedy, that’s fine — if you think this is a tragedy, that’s fine too. It’s both.’”
Much has been made of Stan’s recent so-called risk-taking performances, including in the Donald Trump biopic “The Apprentice.” (He won Berlin’s lead actor trophy for “A Different Man.”) “One of the reasons I’ve lately gravitated more toward what I’d call ‘transformational’ roles is because they do make it easier to lose yourself and to stay in it for the entire time,” suggests Stan, who lived in Romania and Vienna as a child. “I wanted to be an actor because it saved my life. I grew up in a very weird, chaotic time. I was always searching for identity — I came to this country when I was 12, and it was a shocking experience. Acting was a way of release and communication — it was a language, in a way, and it allowed me to understand myself.”
Pearson understands that sentiment. “There’s something inherently terrifying about putting yourself out there,” he says. “When I first got into TV when I was 25, one of my friends gave me what we now lovingly call ‘the talk of doom.’ He was like, ‘You are going to go on TV, and people watch TV — if they don’t like you, they will tell you on whatever platforms you are on. Do you think you can handle that?’”
He could, and his work in “A Different Man” has only raised his profile. Now he’s the one who’s a celebrity, although he acknowledges those old anxieties remain.
“Even now, my friends are like, ‘Aren’t you just a little bit scared that people are going to [not like you]?’ I’m like, ‘Yeah, I’m always scared,”’ Pearson says. “Option A is, ‘Don’t do it,’ and then Option B is, ‘Do it scared.’ And I’d rather do it scared than not do it at all.”
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