Alter Ego

Alex is unremarkable by design, a quiet man in a quiet life, until the new neighbours arrive and the husband turns out to be his exact double, with one galling exception: he has hair. From there the film settles into a slow itch of paranoia, as Alex measures himself against a version of himself who is more charismatic, more brilliant, more accomplished, more everything. The comedy and the dread come from the same source, which is exactly what makes the premise sting.

Built for viewers who enjoy doppelganger stories and unease played close to the bone, where the real threat is a man's own sense of insufficiency. The pace is controlled across a hundred minutes, favouring observation and mounting obsession over incident. Expect discomfort, dry humour, and a mirror held at an unkind angle. If you like psychological character studies that let a small humiliation swell into a full crisis, this one gets nicely under the skin.