A Real Pain

Ah, A Real Pain – the 2025 cinematic brainchild of Jesse Eisenberg, who clearly thought, “Hey, what if we combined familial trauma, Holocaust tourism, and a buddy comedy into one movie?” Spoiler: the results are as awkward as you’d expect, but somehow, that’s part of its weird charm. Starring Eisenberg himself as Daniel, the self-pitying intellectual type we all love to roll our eyes at, and Kieran Culkin as Benji, the brash cousin whose every action screams, “I dare you to take me seriously,” the film is a chaotic blend of grief, humor, and painfully earnest introspection.

The Plot: Because Every Dysfunctional Duo Needs a Tragic Road Trip

The story kicks off with Daniel and Benji reuniting after their grandmother’s death. Naturally, instead of dealing with their grief like normal humans (read: awkward hugs and avoiding eye contact), they decide to hop on a plane to Poland. Why? To connect with their Jewish heritage, of course! And by “connect,” I mean stumbling their way into a Holocaust-themed tour group that’s equal parts sobering and absurd. Because nothing says “family bonding” like a guided walk through historical atrocities, right?

What follows is a messy odyssey of self-discovery that doubles as a cringe-inducing comedy of errors. Daniel, forever stuck in his own neurotic head, spends much of the movie projecting his insecurities onto everyone around him. Benji, on the other hand, barrels through life like a human wrecking ball, providing the kind of chaotic energy that makes you both laugh and wince.

Themes: Grief, Heritage, and a Side of Awkward Comedy

Here’s the thing: A Real Pain wants to say something profound about grief and the weight of historical trauma. Does it succeed? Kind of. There are genuinely moving moments where Daniel and Benji confront the messy realities of loss and identity. But let’s be real: for every heartfelt scene, there’s a moment where you’re cringing at their tone-deaf antics. Case in point: their interactions with fellow tourists, which range from darkly hilarious to downright uncomfortable.

The film’s attempts to balance humor and tragedy sometimes feel like watching someone juggle chainsaws. When it works, it’s brilliant. When it doesn’t, you’re left wondering if Eisenberg should have reined things in a bit. Still, you can’t deny the audacity of trying to inject levity into a story steeped in intergenerational trauma. It’s like watching someone tell a knock-knock joke at a funeral – inappropriate, but oddly compelling.

Performances: A Neurotic Odd Couple

Let’s talk about the performances, because if nothing else, Eisenberg and Culkin know how to play off each other. Eisenberg’s Daniel is exactly what you’d expect: a socially awkward intellectual with a perpetual look of existential dread. If you’ve seen him in The Social Network or The Squid and the Whale, you know the drill. Culkin’s Benji, meanwhile, is a masterclass in lovable recklessness. He’s brash, unapologetic, and just unhinged enough to keep things interesting.

Their dynamic is the beating heart of the film, with each character’s flaws playing off the other’s. Daniel’s overthinking meets its match in Benji’s devil-may-care attitude, resulting in a partnership that’s equal parts hilarious and infuriating. Sure, their constant bickering can get grating, but isn’t that the point? They’re not supposed to be likable so much as relatable, in that “Oh God, I see myself in these disasters” kind of way.

Direction and Style: Eisenberg Gets Artsy

Eisenberg’s directorial style is… well, let’s call it “auteur lite.” He’s clearly aiming for something profound, and to his credit, there are moments where he nails it. The cinematography captures Poland’s stark beauty with a mix of reverence and melancholy, while the screenplay delivers a few gut-punch lines that stick with you. But for every artistic flourish, there’s an equally heavy-handed metaphor that makes you groan. Subtlety isn’t exactly the film’s strong suit.

Then there’s the soundtrack, which oscillates between haunting traditional melodies and overly sentimental compositions that practically scream, “Feel something!” It’s effective, sure, but a bit on the nose. Much like the rest of the film, it’s trying just a little too hard to be profound.

The Good, the Bad, and the Cringe

So, what works? For starters, the humor. When A Real Pain leans into its absurdity, it’s genuinely funny. Benji’s antics provide much-needed levity, and the film’s darker comedic moments are surprisingly sharp. There’s a scene involving an ill-timed joke during a tour that’s so awkwardly hilarious, you can’t help but laugh through the discomfort.

On the flip side, the film’s earnestness can veer into melodrama. Some of the more emotional scenes feel contrived, as if Eisenberg is trying to wring tears from the audience instead of letting the story speak for itself. And let’s not forget the pacing, which drags in places. At nearly two hours, the film could have benefited from a tighter edit.

Final Verdict: A Hot Mess Worth Watching

Is A Real Pain a perfect film? Absolutely not. It’s messy, uneven, and occasionally too clever for its own good. But it’s also funny, heartfelt, and unafraid to tackle big questions about grief and identity. Eisenberg and Culkin’s performances elevate the material, and the film’s willingness to embrace its flaws makes it oddly endearing.

So, should you watch it? If you’re in the mood for a darkly comedic exploration of grief that doesn’t shy away from its own awkwardness, then yes. Just be prepared to roll your eyes and cringe a little along the way. Because, much like life itself, A Real Pain is a beautiful mess.