Spoilers ahead!
Jesse Eisenberg’s second feature film, “A Real Pain,” follows Benji Kaplan (Kieran Culkin) and David Kaplan (Eisenberg), cousins reunited by the death of their beloved grandmother. They go to Poland with the goal of connecting with their Jewish heritage and visiting their grandmother’s childhood home, but the trip inevitably evolves into something more complex. Through humor and heartbreak, the pair embarks on an introspective journey through their newly formed grief.
The film opens with the delicate notes of Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat Major, Op. 9, No. 2,” a hilariously serene piece to accompany the chaos about to unfold. As the camera pans through a busy airport terminal, it eventually settles on Benji exuding a quiet confidence amidst the disorder. Meanwhile, a crosscut to David introduces him in a flurry of anxiety. He panics through a frantic car ride while leaving a series of increasingly desperate voice messages for his cousin, oblivious to the warm welcome that awaits him once he arrives. This dynamic — a free-spirited Benji and neurotic David — is an all-too familiar tale of opposite personalities destined to clash and complement.
The two travel alongside a Holocaust tour group led by James (Will Sharpe), a reserved yet knowledgeable guide. Alongside the cousins is an ensemble of characters — Marcia (Jennifer Grey), Eloge (Kurt Egyiawan) and older couple Mark (Daniel Oreskes) and Diane (Liza Sadovy) — each with their own backstory. Their accompaniment serves as more than mere travel buddies, and their individual stories are surprisingly layered.
The cousins’ dynamic is continuously tested throughout the trip, with moments of tension arising from their differing approaches to compromising situations. While Benji’s unfiltered honesty strikes a chord with the tour group, it drives David to embarrassment. Over time, deeper truths about their shared past surface, forcing both to confront the complexities of their relationship in unexpected ways.
The film thrives on this tonal duality, oscillating between biting humor and uncomfortably vulnerable moments. There are moments raw with introspection and emotion, only to be broken by an absurdly endearing scene in sharp contrast. These shifts don’t always land seamlessly, but they spark a conversation in finding moments of light amidst profound sorrow.
Culkin’s portrayal of Benji is the film’s linchpin — a character whose charm and volatility make him both magnetic and maddening. He provides some of the film’s most memorable moments, ones that are as cringeworthy as they are captivating. There’s a lived-in authenticity to his performance, reminiscent of his role as Roman Roy in the television series “Succession,” though here he trades sardonic cruelty for a messy but empathetic humanity.
The relationship between Benji and David drives the film’s emotional core. Their bond is both fraught and unshakable, marked by mutual jealousy — Benji envies David’s structure and stability, while David yearns for Benji’s effortless charisma. This tension comes to a head in the film’s climax, where David’s inability to fully grasp Benji’s mental struggles leads to an emotionally raw confrontation. This pivotal moment is a testament to Eisenberg’s writing, a culmination of simmering frustrations and unspoken affection.
Eisenberg’s direction is at its best when it lingers. The film’s visual palette captures Poland’s beauty with quiet reverence, offering stunning compositions of historical landmarks that serve as both physical destinations and emotional touchstones. Static shots and simple locations ground each characters’ individual struggles in a larger, more sobering historical context.
Yet, the film’s ambition occasionally outpaces its best characteristics. The tonal shifts, while thematically resonant, can feel uneven and rushed, leaving the end result as a fleeting glimpse into pain and self-discovery that never truly dives beneath the surface. Culkin’s performance is also stunted by the concise screenplay. For such a wildly unbounded character, the 90 minute runtime barely leaves room for Benji to breathe.
Still, the imperfections are part of its charm. They capture the messy, fragmented journey of grief and refuse to offer an easy resolution. The film concludes as it begins, with Chopin playing over a familiar airport backdrop. This time, however, Benji’s reflective expression hints at a shift, a newfound perspective perhaps changed by a brief adventure.
“A Real Pain” may not provide the clean catharsis some viewers may crave, but its raw, unrestrained exploration of pain feels strikingly authentic. Anchored by Culkin’s magnetic performance and Eisenberg’s bold direction, its moments of messy humanity make it a perfectly flawed, compelling watch.
Rating: 7/10