Where David Cronenberg’s body horrors of the 1980s and 1990s, such as Videodrome, The Fly, and Crash, were fascinating because of the fusion of technology and the human form, a new wave of genre films is anxiously asking: how much can we tweak and tinker before our bodies start to bite back? Like Theseus’s ship, how much can we swap out before nothing of our true self remains? Cosmetic surgery is booming in the 2020s, promoted via social media and normalised across every age group, so it is no wonder that a new generation of filmmakers have bodily modification on the brain. This month alone, we have been treated to Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, an impressively gross parable about ageing and sexism, and now we have Aaron Schimberg’s A Different Man, both funnier and thornier in its reflexive layers of insight around identity, authorship, and entertainment.