Title: A Real Pain

Director: Jesse Eisenberg

Cast: Jesse Eisenberg, Kieran Culkin, Will Sharpe, Jennifer Grey, Kurt Egyiawan

Where: In theatres near you

Rating: 3.5 Stars

With this film, director Jesse Eisenberg masterfully navigates the treacherous terrain of historical trauma and familial dysfunction, balancing sardonic humour with piercing solemnity. His directorial effort, an intimate tragicomedy, sees Eisenberg grapple with the enormity of inherited pain while delivering a story that is both tender and darkly funny. The result is a film as uncomfortably awkward as it is disarmingly poignant.

The narrative unfolds as cousins David (Eisenberg), a tightly-wound digital ad salesman, and Benji (Kieran Culkin), a carefree stoner with a penchant for unfiltered candour, embark on a journey to Poland. The trip, ostensibly to explore their grandmother's Holocaust history, becomes a vehicle for exploring their own fractured relationship. Eisenberg and Culkin bring a palpable chemistry to their roles, their dynamic oscillating between caustic humour and gut-wrenching vulnerability.

Culkin is the film’s chaotic heartbeat. His portrayal of Benji, a charming and infuriating man, is mesmerizing. Whether sparring verbally with David or confronting the gravity of the Holocaust, Culkin’s performance exudes a raw authenticity. His moments of self-reflection—such as grappling with the ethics of luxury travel juxtaposed with the horrors faced by their ancestors—lend the film its emotional heft. Eisenberg, ever the neurotic foil, plays David with a restrained vulnerability that underscores the cousins’ shared but differently expressed grief.

The supporting cast is equally compelling. Will Sharpe, as a well-meaning but stiff British tour guide, captures the awkward balancing act of honouring tragedy while maintaining a manageable atmosphere. Jennifer Grey’s Marcia, a divorcee seeking meaning, adds warmth and a surprising rapport with Benji. Kurt Egyiawan, as a Rwandan genocide survivor turned Jew-by-choice, delivers a quietly powerful performance, embodying resilience and empathy in the face of shared histories of trauma.

Eisenberg’s script, laced with mordant wit, deftly explores “epic pain vs. modern pain,” juxtaposing the cataclysmic weight of genocide with the characters’ struggles. Yet, the film’s strength lies in its refusal to offer easy resolutions. Instead, it captures the messy, often uncomfortable interplay between grief, guilt, and the desire for connection.

Michal Dymek's cinematography seamlessly transitions from Warsaw's polished cityscapes to rural Poland's pastoral tranquility, mirroring the cousins’ emotional journey. The understated score, featuring Chopin’s compositions, further enriches the narrative, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia.

Despite its many triumphs, A Real Pain demands patience. Its tonal shifts—from laugh-out-loud moments to sobering silence—might alienate viewers seeking conventional storytelling. The film’s introspective pacing and Benji’s abrasive antics can sometimes feel indulgent, but these flaws are part of its charm, reflecting the imperfect humanity it seeks to portray.

With this film, Eisenberg proves himself a filmmaker of remarkable emotional acuity. By marrying wit with solemnity, he crafts a narrative that resonates deeply without resorting to melodrama. The film is a potent reminder that reckoning with the past is neither linear nor painless, but always profoundly human.