Sebastian Stan on How ‘The Apprentice’ and ‘A Different Man’ Tackle Comfort, Curiosity, and Confronting Our Fears

It’s an embarrassment of riches to have two transformative, awards-worthy roles in one career. But what does it mean when you have two in the same season?

Sebastian Stan finds himself this year in rarified company, including the likes of Kate Winslet, Sigourney Weaver, and Jamie Foxx, with two acclaimed lead performances in The Apprentice and A Different Man. Both films have been received warmly so far: Stan just received Best Actor nominations for both films at the Golden Globes, winning for A Different Man, while The Apprentice landed on the BAFTAs longlist in six categories, including Best Film. The industry reception is remarkable, given both films’ uphill climb with their production and distribution. A Different Man was shot in 24 days in New York at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and was delayed because of last year’s Hollywood strikes. Meanwhile, the Apprentice struggled to secure U.S. distribution after its buzzy Cannes premiere due to legal threats from Donald Trump and general hesitancy about how it tackled his early days. With all the hurdles, it would stand to reason that there is some vindication in seeing the fruits of labor pay off.

“It’s surreal,” Stan told me about winning the Golden Globe and his films’ positive overall reception. “You never really know the outcomes of any film when you go and make it. You’re always just hoping it’s going to turn out well. When you get into this wild time, that is the fall, when you’ve got so many films coming out and major studios contending, you just don’t know if your movie will even cut through. So, getting to the Globes, you can’t help but feel grateful because this is the win. It’s an amazing moment getting both of them seen.”

The Apprentice and A Different Man aren’t just linked by their complex but rewarding awards season journeys. Stan found key similarities between the 45th president of the United States and Edward Lemuel, a fledgling actor with neurofibromatosis who undergoes an experimental treatment to reverse his condition, only to find himself playing a fictionalized version of himself in an off-Broadway play. 

Stan explained, “[Donald and Edward] are two different forms of narcissism, of extreme narcissism. When I think of narcissism, I think of denying and suppressing who we really are and inventing another person. When the distance between your true self and this other invented version grows because you’re suppressing and lying about yourself, you have to create a bigger and bigger lie. It starts to have consequences that affect you and everyone around you. I always saw both films as a denial of reality and a loss of humanity.”

In The Apprentice, Stan plays a younger version of Trump, reared by infamous lawyer Roy Cohn (played by Golden Globe and SAG nominee Jeremy Strong) to become one of the dominant cultural forces of 1970s and 1980s New York. The film, directed by Ali Abbassi, showcases Trump at his most timid and insecure, a far cry from the bloviating tabloid fixture who would upend domestic and global politics thirty years later. Under Cohn’s tutelage, Trump would evolve into an overwhelming force that no one, not Cohn, his wife Ivana (Maria Bakalova), or the financial and political realities of the 80s, could contain, let alone control.

Stan describes the story of Donald Trump as an abandonment of empathy and morals in pursuit of transactional goals and the proliferation of the lie at the center of one’s narcissism. But what is Trump’s lie? “What I see in Trump is a very broken, pained, paranoid, insecure little boy,” Stan answered. “And I don’t say that to simply go, ‘He’s human, and you should feel bad for him.’ I say that to highlight the flaws that might get in the way of this person having power or moral authority. I don’t know if that’s a person I would necessarily trust.”

When it came to playing Trump, Stan drew inspiration from multiple sources, including scores of footage that helped him understand the mannerisms and visual markers that have shaped people’s perception of Trump as a businessman and a politician. He also drew inspiration from his childhood, split between Eastern Europe and the United States. He was born in Constanța, Romania, in 1982, back when the country was a socialist state, part of the Eastern Bloc. Following the Revolutions of 1989, when most communist and socialist governments fell to a wave of liberal democracy, he and his mother, Georgeta Orlovschi, moved to Vienna, where she worked as a pianist. They moved to New York when he was 12 to pursue the American Dream.

For Stan, playing Trump allowed him to unpack what pursuing the American Dream meant. “When I came to America, my mom said to me, ‘We’re here now, and I’ve sacrificed my life, and you’ve got to make something of yourself because you have this opportunity that so many kids are not going to have.’ I hear that, and it drives me, but I also feel this burden of responsibility and pressure of ‘What if I fail?’ I find with many people…you see them accumulating more things, and it’s never enough. There’s always something else. To me, The Apprentice is part of this ideology and the American Dream. When is it enough, and what does it do to a person? I think my journey through Vienna and coming here and trying to understand what it means to be an American influenced me 100% with that part and probably what drove me to do it.”

The key challenge of playing Donald Trump, of course, is playing a man who has subsumed every section of culture, especially in the last decade. He has been caricatured, parodied, and defied countless times, not to mention the nonfictional portrayals of him that are a constant presence on cable news, broadcast networks, and social media platforms. It should be an insurmountable task, but Stan succeeds in bringing this titanic figure back to Earth, teasing out subtle nuances and traits that break through the overwhelming idea of Trump and focusing on the man himself, warts and all. 

“I really wanted to try and find out who this person was,” Stan said. “Going back in time and looking at some of the early footage, I saw a vulnerability and insecurity there that I didn’t know existed, that seemed buried deep underneath this bravado. I wanted to know more about that and how he became what he became. What scared me the most was, knowing that he’s so well known and in our faces everywhere, that it would be near-impossible to get anyone to even spend two hours trying to figure out who this guy was.”

Knowing that his performance would be measured against caricatures and impressions, Stan lasered in on elevating the earliest elements of the Trump persona. “What helped was that, in his earlier years, he was less,” Stan explained. “There was a lot less of what you see now, these things that have built over time. His voice didn’t sound like it does now; his mannerisms weren’t as specific. The challenge and the fear was knowing that if I did a little too much too soon, I would lose everybody, and I would just be thrown in there as another kind of impression.”

Stan’s embrace of Trump’s vulnerability and insecurity is most acutely realized in one of the film’s standout scenes: Trump grieving the loss of his brother, Fred Jr., in his bathroom. In a prior interview with Maria Bakalova, she revealed that the scene was shorter on the page. However, Abbassi kept the camera on them and let Stan and Bakalova continue in the bedroom, improvising the rest of the scene. 

“In the script, the moment was him alone in the bathroom and breaking down, and then Maria walks in and finds him, and he quickly cleans himself up and says, ‘Nothing happened.’,” Stan explained. “We shot it a couple of times, and there was this take where, in the moment, I froze, and that was the truth of the scene. She walked in, and I knew we were not shooting the scene we were supposed to. But we stayed in it and explored what happened and, fortunately, Abbassi kept rolling, and it carried us into the bedroom, and we got in bed, and she put her hand on my hand, and [all that emotion] started to happen in the moment.”

Stan continued, “That was an experience that’s so reflective of my process. You can go home at night and do all this preparation and envision things going a certain way, but nine times out of ten, they don’t go that way. You surrender to the director, the other actors, and the moment. The beauty of acting and what I love about it is that, if you stay open, there’s a way it can go where you didn’t see it that ends up being closer to the truth, and want it always to be as close to the truth as possible.”

Seeking the truth is equally central to A Different Man, which premiered at Sundance last January and has steadily built acclaim throughout the year, including the Silver Bear for Stan for Best Leading Performance at the Berlin Film Festival. The first half sees Stan as Edward, wearing prosthetic makeup designed by Mike Marino to approximate neurofibromatosis. As Edward, Stan assumes a physicality that appears to be in constant apology for taking up space in the world and making others around him uncomfortable. The psychological block behind that physicality keeps him isolated, even as he forms a friendship with Ingrid (Renate Reinsve), his next-door neighbor and budding playwright. While Edward is cured of the neurofibromatosis and assumes the identity of Guy, Stan retains subtle, detailed whispers of that ungainly, apologetic physicality, cluing audiences into what Edward hasn’t gained from his transformation: self-esteem and self-acceptance.

“Our muscles hold memory,” Stan explained. “There are certain things, like trauma, that will always be there. Edward changes his physical appearance, but he’s never confronted any of the things about himself that he feels most in pain about on an internal level.” Stan accessed the emotions to conceive and convey that pain by wearing the prosthetic makeup out in New York City during breaks in shooting. “When I was walking around, I noticed that everything in me was so self-conscious. I felt people walk by me, and some would look, some would ignore me, but everything in my body was telling me to go into myself and just get through the street and to my destination as quickly as possible. So, as a result, I was walking a certain way, and I felt powerlessness, and I realized that was not going away for Edward. When he’s not conscious of it, he’s falling back right back into who he was because there was no growth there for him. I think, as Guy, he ends up going down this path that he thinks will supply him with all these things that he’s watched other people have for years, but it’s actually made his life quite boring.”

A Different Man confronts that dissonance head-on with the arrival of Adam Pearson’s Oswald. Oswald similarly has neurofibromatosis but lacks Edward’s (now Guy’s) self-hatred. He has a dazzling personality that is more than enough to capture everyone’s attention, including Ingrid (Edward’s lover and director). One day, they go to a karaoke bar, and after casually flirting with a server, Oswald gets on stage to perform. Edward watches in a potent mixture of shock, fascination, and rank devastation as the audience is enraptured, not by Oswald’s condition but by his warmth and confidence. Stan doesn’t say a word but conveys a lifetime of crippling heartbreak and self-disgust that sets Edward on the path of self-destruction that defines the gonzo final act. It is one of the year’s most affecting scenes. 

Recalling the karaoke scene, Stan shared insight into Edward’s headspace in that gripping moment. “I think it’s the first time that Edward is confronted with this reality and denial of self in a very real way. I think he’s fascinated, curious, and looking for validation. He’s hoping that other people will judge Osward the way he’s judging Oswald in that moment because, by judging Oswald, it helps keep his lie alive. I think it’s fear and fascination and that he’s no longer able to run from what he’s been denying, which is that, ‘Oh, this could’ve been me. I could’ve owned myself, and I would’ve been fine.’ He’s dealing with that, and from that point on, it starts to grow until the end of the movie.”

Stan’s partnership with Pearson was key to realizing Edward’s journey. “I felt that whatever I was going to do was always going to be, or would have to be in lockstep with Adam. I was really in service to him and Aaron.” The two quickly got on the same page about what they hoped to accomplish with the film, with Pearson as a “lighthouse” to understand what it’s like living with a disability. “There was a lot of conversation around how he grew up, his childhood, his experiences, even what he encounters daily online. [There’s been such a] loss of humanity, sensitivity, and empathy online, how we attack other people and do it anonymously. The fact that Adam can go out there every day and outwit these people and has had to do that for so much of his life is inspiring and brave. I wanted to understand how someone gets to that.”

Edward and Donald Trump are the latest additions to a collection of roles that Stan has curated in his career that explore the darkness that resides in people, ranging from TJ Hammond in the TV series Political Animals to Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. According to Stan, it’s been by design. “I think I’ve been curious about gravitating to things that feel complex or I don’t understand right away. I think sometimes, when we have discomfort with certain films, that can translate into ignoring something altogether. And one of those things, to me, is that we are not perfect people. We’re all susceptible to going in very different ways. We all walk around with some version of an angel and devil on each shoulder. Every day is a decision we make to go out in the world and either hurt somebody or help somebody.”

Stan continued, “I think what I’m supposed to do as an actor is keep exploring humanity and how diverse it is. So I love when there are roles that feel closer to the truth that it’s not always just black and white, or a good guy and a bad guy. It’s complex. What’s interesting to me is just how big that scope is in terms of being a human.”

In that vein, The Apprentice and A Different Man collectively serve as the thesis statement of Stan’s career thus far, shining a bright light on the messy complexities of man, told through wildly opposite but uniquely linked perspectives. What ultimately links them is what audiences are willing and unwilling to confront about their interactions with the world around them, whether political ideology or social stigmas. Stan hopes that people watching either or both films come to understand their limitations, whatever they are, and embrace curiosity and empathy.

“I still feel like there is a discomfort around these subject matters that I think confront us on a level that we’re afraid to go to,” Stan said. “I think that sometimes people are curious but are afraid of being curious, and, as a result, they’d rather look the other way and not confront anything. I was lucky enough to be in two complicated films that are confronting people in certain ways. Some people got it, and others are not ready for that yet, but I’d rather be on that side than on the safe side. I hope that, with these two films, people don’t turn the other way.”

A Different Man and The Apprentice are both available VOD on Amazon and other platforms.