Dir. Aaron Schimberg
“All unhappiness in life comes from not accepting what it is”
Tensely funny and overwhelming; a true plunge into insecurity and self-identity in the face of jealousy and vanity. The film begins with Edward (Sebastian Stan), who appears lonely and outcast. As an aspiring actor who is unable to get any real roles, he is financially supported using his facial deformity (known as neurofibromatosis) in HR-related resource videos about inclusiveness in the workplace. His entire identity has been structured around his physical appearance, as is his created mantra of “staying out of the way.”
After meeting a beautiful and accepting playwright named Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), who moves in across the hall, he begins to form a bond with a woman, in what seems like, the first time in his life. As she begins to accept him, his insecurities and anxieties push back, and his stunting of the relationship leads to complete spiraling. This leads to the discovery of a groundbreaking facial procedure that would allow Edward to change his appearance. By the end of the shockingly visceral science-fiction/body horror sequence of transformation, Edward tries nothing more than to hide his shame and secret, never attempting to self-actualize as he intended. Instead, he is influenced by an immediate acceptance of surprisingly elated Mets bros and a dream-like sexual encounter in a bathroom stall to enjoy his new life. He hides his real identity, completely changes his personality, and lies to everyone to move on.
An unspecified amount of time later, Guy is a real estate mogul of some kind with an upgraded apartment and social life. The mask of his former face, which was given to him by his doctors following the procedure, is seen hidden, but peering out, above his bed. It isn’t until rediscovering Ingrid, and her follow-through in a way on the promise to “right him apart, apart his façade begins to unravel. He becomes desperate to return to his previous life (as both Edward and as an actor) and reconnect with Ingrid. He begins working in the theater, sleeping with Ingrid, finally feeling able to live behind the mask. After integrating back into this community, multiple characters discuss the ethical nature of performance with prosthetics, a true actor with the same condition as the character of Edward, appears in the film out of thin air right as Guy’s new dream life has begun. Oswald, mirroring almost as Edward’s Tyler Durden, is devilishly charismatic and immediately accepted and respected by everyone in Guy’s life. Guy’s lifeless stare as he (relatively quickly) watches the man he always wanted to take the life he briefly had is both heartbreaking and hilarious. Piece by piece, Oswald chips away at Guy’s life by integrating himself into their theatrical production, and soon, his relationship with Ingrid. His simmering anger and jealousy are played to no audience until the pot boils over. He is equally as isolated as before his procedure. Edward was never ignored, if not ogled, and this film correctly flips an empathetic man seeking escape to a structure of vanity collapsing in on itself.
Self-acceptance is the only path forward to self-identity. “Let’s be honest with ourselves,” Oswald relays to a spiraling Guy as his part in the play, and his life, are being taken away from him. Is his life objectively better looking like Sebastian Stan? Sure, but the character of Guy is lost, desperate, and self-destructive. It’s the ultimate punchline of this hall of mirrors. We don’t get to rehearse our insecurities in a play written about ourselves (or get to be interviewed by famous actors on how to play them in a phenomenal final cameo). When you get off the stage, you need to remember that you are still you. As said in the film, the play isn’t about Oswald, it’s about Edward.
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