For many, it is difficult to truly grasp the plight of people with noticeable differences in appearance and the emotional strength those people must maintain. The theme of coping with such a physical difference is explored in “The Little Tin Man,” Matthew Perkins’ often touching but unfortunately unbalanced directorial feature film debut.

The film centers on Herman (Aaron Beelner), a struggling actor who has dwarfism. In the beginning of the film, Herman embraces the roles that come with the stereotype of people like him. For example, he is pictured in an elf costume speaking to Santa Claus for an energy drink commercial. Many scenes in the first half evoke this marginalization and subordination that Herman feels — a difference only depicted in the film because he is much shorter than most people in the acting field.

The audience gets a quick look into Herman’s everyday interactions before the whole film takes a major turn with the sudden death of his mother. Herman learns from his mother’s lawyer that her only bequeathal to him listed in her last will and testament is a directive — he is told to take his acting career seriously and stop accepting the typecasting he is given. Though he resents it at first, Herman accepts the challenge after hearing about an audition for “The Wizard of Oz.” Initially slated to audition for the Mayor of Munchkinland, he decides to ignore the casting director’s orders and try out for the part of the Tin Man.

The first half of the film is somewhat slow and unoriginal, mainly serving to hammer home Herman’s imperfections as a dwarf and doing little to expand upon deeper frustrations and emotional nuances. The mood is intended to be one of quirky comedy, but is altogether far too serious in its delivery.

There are scenes in the first half that have potential to hold weight and be poignant, but they fall flat due to their execution. When Herman defiantly attempts to audition for the role of the Tin Man, as opposed to any of the Munchkin roles, the ostensibly heartbreaking scene is over almost as soon as it begins. The viewers do not see the casting directors, they only hear voices as Herman pleads to them in a dimly lit room. Here is a scene that could be the linchpin of the first half of the film, but it fizzles out due to the lack of room it has to breathe.

Despite the film’s shortcomings early on, Beelner is absolutely tremendous throughout. His expressive face is constantly a point of interest for the viewer. Since he knows exactly what Herman wants and understands his character’s limitations, Beelner is able to embrace Herman’s emotions to a point where he disappears into the character.

A very rough first half prevents “The Little Tin Man” from being a truly great film. But the second half, in which Herman begins to gain confidence, is wonderful. The movie quirkily and beautifully tells the story of how to overcome difference, and what it means when one does so.

A version of this article appeared in the Thursday, Oct. 2 print edition. Email Bradley Aslop at [email protected].