Jesse Eisenberg directs and stars in “A Real Pain,” a poignant and deeply Jewish exploration of grief wrapped in equal parts humor and heartache. The film follows two estranged cousins, David (Jesse Eisenberg) and Benji (Kieran Culkin), on a reflective journey through Eastern Europe after the death of their grandmother, blending sharp comedy with emotional depth as they navigate their shared history and personal differences.
Having recently lost the matriarch of their immigrant family, the two embark on a tour through Poland, intending to connect with their ancestry and obtain a sense of closure after visiting the house their grandmother grew up in.
As the two cousins travel across Poland, smoking joints on rooftops and dodging conductors on trains they don’t have tickets for, the obstacles in their path turn more abstract than physical.
Through visits to significant Jewish historical landmarks, and one particularly stirring concentration camp segment, the two grapple with what moving on from sorrow may look like while recognizing how the two have drifted apart in their adulthood.
Jesse Eisenberg, known for playing high-strung chatterboxes, doesn’t stray too far from his borderline-twitchy routine. As David, he is a quiet and patient nebbish with a job in advertising as exciting as he is in conversation—that is to say, not very.
Keiran Culkin continues his propensity for brash, unapologetic characters with Benji, David’s cousin, a chaotic drifter dressed in baggy hoodies and shorts, who can’t help but blurt out his feelings, whether earnest or abrasive.
While Eisenberg delivers his signature neurotic charm, Culkin ultimately steals the show. With a magnetic, high-energy performance, Culkin contrasts Eisenberg’s restrained composure and meek disposition with honest emotional depth, giving Eisenberg’s one-note persona something to play off of, creating an achingly human experience between the two.
The film wastes no time displaying their differences, opening with David anxiously leaving voicemails for Benji in frequent succession on his way to the airport. Benji, who has been nonchalantly wandering the airport for the past couple of hours, meets David as he arrives at the airport doors.
Initially, the interactions between David and Benji leave one wincing, a sensation not unlike drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. However, their contrasting edges erode throughout the film, smoothing as the two reconcile the feelings they have incubated up until this trip to their cultural homeland.
Despite beginning and ending with David, make no mistake—this is the Benji show. Culken flaunts and dances through every scene, effortlessly captivating. Of this, the film is self-aware, more inclined to offer Benji’s philosophy to life over David’s. His tendency to forge families from strangers, in this case with the other members of their ragtag tour group, suggests one might miss people worth connecting with if one is hesitant to talk to people.
At first, Benji may only seem like what Eisenberg thinks a free spirit is like, as Benji blurts out his philosophies surrounding first-class train cars and talking too much at cemeteries. In these instances, Eisenberg’s script lacks a certain subtly, but Culkin shines in his no-shits-given line delivery, as well as in his scenes with David. Benji’s endearing, almost superhuman emotional awareness becomes justified through the narrative, as he is increasingly burdened by the blessing and the curse of feeling for others more than himself.
And while David seems to thrive in politeness and formality, Benji prefers to push these notions aside, impatient to get to know people. During the opening act, one may wonder whether their vastly different demeanors will lead them to clash. However, most of their conflict comes from the time they haven’t spent together in the past, rather than their experiences in the film.
This pleasant subversion, as well as the chemistry emanating between Eisneberg and Culkin, allows an audience to relax even in the film’s most emotional moments, as the love these two cousins have for one another eclipses any other feeling they have. The script does a good job of portraying equal, dueling admiration, as David’s envy of Benji’s alluring personality and Benji’s respect for David’s family-oriented life surface.
It is this strong support that affirms the different ways these two men treat trauma, as Benji finds comfort in the shared pain of others while David stubbornly conforms to bottling up his feelings.
In this juxtaposition of how to handle and process hurt, David and Benji question the best way to acknowledge, and maybe even move on, from deep loss.
While the ending may come off as insubstantial, there is such a thing as a calculated, unresolved conclusion. Eisenberg finds the right moment to leave the audience with their thoughts. As the cousins say what they need to hear from one another, it leaves an audience fulfilled just enough to let these characters go on with their lives, with a hint of curiosity as to whether their lives may take a turn for the better.
This bittersweet story of loss and connection won’t leave you without a laugh or a lingering warmth, as the script knows when to hold back and when to let the audience go. In playing to his strengths, and highlighting those of his actors, Jesse Eisenberg thoughtfully continues his directorial filmography with wit and sincerity.
