The Man Who Discarded His Face: The invisible inferiority is scarier than the visible 'disability'.

Hello, I'm Sunao Abe.

When I watched the teaser trailer, I had an impression like, 'Is this a dark comedy version of The Elephant Man?'

While this film is not in black and white, the grainy texture unique to 16mm film blurs the era while giving universality to the theme of discrimination against people with disabilities.

By the way, Mike Marino, who handled the special makeup, said that The Elephant Man was the first movie he ever watched in his life. Well, even if that weren't the case, I feel once again the kind of influence that movie has—the kind you just can't avoid.

And what surprised me was that Adam Pearson, who plays Oswald, appeared with his real face, not special makeup.

Another thing that struck me was that the pamphlet used the term 'person with a disability' rather than just 'disability'.

It was explained that this terminology is based on the perspective that a 'disability' is not an individual problem but something created by society... Honestly, I didn't even know there was such a distinction.

I see, I really don't know anything about these things... I reflected on that slightly, and then just enjoyed the film as a film.

[Synopsis]

Edward (Sebastian Stan), an aspiring actor, has a face that is severely deformed due to a medical condition.

Living in a New York apartment, he begins to have modest interactions with his neighbor, Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), a playwright.

As they share casual exchanges, the two gradually become closer. Edward secretly harbors feelings for Ingrid, but he could never express them.

Meanwhile, Edward undergoes experimental treatment with a new drug and gains a remarkably handsome face.

Going by the new name 'Guy' and starting an aggressive life as a different person, he is confronted by Oswald (Adam Pearson), a man who looks exactly like his former 'face'...

[Review]

It poses philosophical questions but provides no answers. Or rather, it'refuses to let you find them.'

It is quite a convoluted film.

However, it is precisely in this 'convoluted nature' that the film's interest, pleasure, and catharsis are overflowing.

The first hour or so depicts Edward, who has lumpy tumors on his face, living quietly while bearing the subtle hardships of being a person with a disability.

It is surprisingly ordinary—though that might be the wrong word—and he is not subjected to the kind of harsh discrimination seen in, for example, The Elephant Man.

Regarding discriminatory attitudes, this film first presents a certain 'definition' in the form of a 'corporate training video' (which Edward appears in as an actor).

The gist is as follows.

'It is instinctive to react to the grotesque, so it cannot be helped. However, that can be resolved through 'habituation.' As a next step, aiming for 'harmony' is how a businessman should be.'Something like that.

However, apart from such convenient common sense, the downtown New York where Edward lives is quite rough, and the subways, streets, and apartments are filled with people who are 'grotesque' in their own way. Yet, one doesn't really feel any overt discriminatory consciousness or malice there.

Then, Ingrid appears.

She recoils for a moment when she sees Edward's face, but to borrow an expression from the film, this is an 'instinctive reflex reaction,' not malice.

Rather, she treats Edward more neutrally than ordinary people. Regardless of social norms or common sense, she feels a normal affection for him. There isn't even a nuance of pity in the way she interacts with him, which is very refreshing to watch.

Edward himself is passive and shy, but considering the painful experiences he has had in his life so far, one also finds it'conveniently'understandable.

And things get really convoluted after Oswald appears.

When he shows up at the theater rehearsal space, and when Guy (formerly Edward) meets him again while drinking with friends at a bar while still reeling from that first impact.

In both scenes, within just a fleeting moment,'Wait, what was that?'a quiet, shaking shock runs through the air.

His speech, flowing naturally from a light greeting, is clear, considerate, and witty.I don't know what it is, but he leaves behind a positive atmosphereand quickly departs.

His lack of pretension is so stylish and cool that it almost feels pretentious in itself.

At that moment, I felt a sense of exhilaration, as if a fresh breeze had blown into the catharsis one gets from movies.

People often talk about 'self-esteem,' but Oswald doesn't need such a thing. If I were to apply that word to him, it would be 'self-affirmation'power.''

Whether he has 'esteem' or not, he possesses an overwhelming 'power' to affirm himself.

Once you reach that point, handicaps and complexes no longer matter.

Meanwhile, Edward, who has restarted his life as the long-desired handsome 'Guy', finds thathis fundamental inferiority is becoming more bloated than it was before he discarded his old faceand he becomes entangled in it.

His enthusiasm for the play modeled after his former self, thinking 'this is the role I should play,' eventually flips into deception and perversion, and all the 'good parts' of the life he was supposed to have are taken away by Oswald.

Moreover, since Oswald is a good person through and through, it's even more troublesome.

Because Oswald doesn't have a single micron of ambition or malice to take anything away from others.

That is the 'beauty of the convolution' in this film.

Edward was supposed to have gained 'possibilities' by changing his face. Yet, for some reason, he becomes increasingly restricted.

On the other hand, no matter what pressure, malice, or entanglements swirl in society, Oswaldremains unmoved, and with that same face, he smiles brightly.

Conclusion.

What hinders life is not a handicap, but inferiority. Deep reflection!