A Real Pain: Traveling Through People

A Real Pain begins with quiet. A stillness that allows for humor and the joy of human connection to illuminate a story built upon grief.

Within an airport brimming with the anxieties of travel, set to the tune of Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major Op. 9 No. 2, a pensive Kieran Culkin sits nestled amongst a stampede of voyagers. He stares, eyes brimming with an emotion that we know just by knowing it. A restless, relentless feeling, that’s summed up in the words that appear at his eye level: A Real Pain. An abrupt cut to a very stressed, very nervous, David (played by Jesse Eisenberg) removes us from that quiet bubble. David places call after call to “Benji” (Culkin’s character) as he makes his way to the airport, babbling a slew of reminders and directions into the phone, voicing his distrust in Benji’s ability to follow a flight itinerary. It’s in these first few minutes that Eisenberg (writer and director of the film) creates an immediate sense of the relationship between cousins Benji and David. It’s clear from the moment following their reunion, after Benji tackles David with a hug and gifts him a lukewarm yogurt, that the relationship between these two is the driving force of this story. As the pair explore the Jewish history of Poland, the unaddressed issues between them simmer cautiously under the lid of their expedition, and as they struggle to contain their own pain, it threatens to boil over.

Following the death of their Grandma Dory, cousins Benji and David travel to Poland to honor their grandmother’s memory and attempt to understand their family history. In the days leading up to their pilgrimage to their grandmother’s home, Benji and David explore Poland alongside a tour group. Led by British tour guide James (played by Will Sharpe) the group explores the Jewish history of Poland, visiting historical landmarks and learning about their roots. As Benji interacts with the rich history of this landscape, and attempts to resonate with his grandmother’s pain, we recognize his immense desire to reconnect with David. Benji attempts, time and time again, to pull David into the present moment, begging David to see the world through his eyes, rather than projecting his grief onto Benji. In fact, for the entirety of the film, we see Benji primarily from David’s perspective. The only time we are shown a glimpse of who Benji truly is, is during his time seated in the airport, where the emotion in his eyes is the only indicator of what he truly feels. 

David’s homesickness for his family, which he expresses to Benji almost immediately upon their arrival to Poland, and Benji’s desire to leap ahead into the past clash almost instantaneously. It’s clear that neither of them wants to confront whatever tensions exist between them, though Benji alludes to the distance between them on numerous occasions. They exist within their own pain, ruminating on their own experiences and refusing to fully see one another, which creates a tension between them that builds over the course of their journey. Benji’s approach to life is aggressive, and as he tackles David with hugs and memories of their past, his relentlessness takes a toll on David, who attempts to remain reserved and under-the-radar as his anxiety threatens to push him over the edge. As this tension builds, their ability to hide their frustration with one another weakens, and when they finally confront one another, they are able to understand one another, free from their own projections of perceived notions of the other’s experiences.

As they journey together, David watches as Benji’s incredible ability to bring people together ignites a connection amongst the tour group (which includes the brilliant performances by Jennifer Grey, Will Sharpe, Kurt Egyiawan, Liza Sadovy and Daniel Oreskes), and forges relationships between a group of strangers. From the TSA Agent at the airport to ex-lady-who-lunches Marcia, Benji has an innate ability to attract relationships. Benji’s charm affects everyone, but, somehow, does not lack sincerity. David anxiously observes Benji and overcompensates for his brash and unpredictable behavior with apologies and explanations. In an interview with BFI, Eisenberg described Benji as “a time-bomb”, endlessly seeking the “real,”searching for connection with anyone and everything. This rings true. Eisenberg crafts tension that seeps into our bones, and manifests as we watch David grow increasingly agitated with Benji, and Benji’s seemingly untouchable shell of confidence begins to crack.

It’s not until the group’s final dinner together, when Benji leaves David alone with the other members of the tour group for the first time, that we begin to understand the fraught history between them. In a monologue—performed with a subtle, yet striking honesty by Eisenberg— David reveals the deep and gut-wrenching source of pain that he has kept hidden, and allows the others to see Benji through his eyes for the first time. The absence of Benji is suffocating at this moment. We are stuck in a place without humor, without an anecdote about summer camp, without an endearing laugh or chuckle to break the tension. The tour group sits with David, holding him without holding him, and comforting him without pity. They sit with his pain and absorb it. The support of the tour group allows David to recognize the pain he carries and find a way to be comfortable with being uncomfortable about it. While on a rooftop on their last night in Poland, David and Benji confront their past, head on. Though agonizing, this allows them to finally see one another. As we watch them exist in their pain together, from the rooftop to their hotel, to the taxi to Grandma Dory’s home, we sense that a change has occurred. The space between them is freer, the weight of this load has lightened.

Throughout his journey with David, surrounded by people, Benji actively seeks to dig into the real, to sit with pain and observe it from a place of empathy, compassion, and a lack of scientific fact or data. This proves difficult on their journey, as the pain within history transcends anything that he can comprehend. The journey that Benji and David embark on is a physical one, grounded within their tour group and set on a path with a distinct end point. However, their true expedition occurs as they find meaning within their lack of understanding. As they approach the history that they share and recognize that they come at it from different perspectives. As their ancestral pain becomes intertwined with their present suffering, they are able see one another as they are, free from their projections, and work to dig up the hatchet that severed their roots. They are free to grow back together again.

After returning home, David and Benji embrace. David clings onto Benji, holding him tightly before returning home to his family. Benji returns to his seat within the airport, and sits, it seems, in the same spot where he waited for David at the start of the movie. Now, however, there’s a hopefulness in his eyes. A gratitude for the time he had with David. It is here that Eisenberg gives us a glimpse into who Benji is, free from the projections of others. It’s through this means of measure that we recognize the true catharsis that has occurred throughout Benji and David’s time together. When the title appears on screen, again, this time, when Benji turns to it, he smiles.

A Real Pain is authentic and honest, and the relationship between Benji and David radiates truth and pain. The dynamic between the characters feels so familiar, so familial, and this may be in part due to Culkin and Eisenberg’s performances. Their naturalistic approach to these characters, and easy banter and annoyance with one another, catapults their on-screen dynamic into something bordering reality. Another facet of the authenticity of A Real Pain lies in Jesse Eisenberg’s connection to the material. Eisenberg based the context of this film on a personal experience he had travelling to Poland, and “Grandma Dory’s house” shown on-screen is, in fact, Eisenberg’s ancestral home. Eisenberg elaborated on his “deep connection to Poland” in an interview with Annette Insdorf, saying that the idea of setting an American buddy-comedy road trip movie “against the backdrop of something that is so much more fraught than anything I could mine or excavate from their personal tensions” was incredibly appealing, and allowed the tension between the two characters, and the pain they feel, to remain grounded in something far deeper and larger than them. Eisenberg’s approach, whether that be from a directing standpoint or screenwriting perspective, is one that completely lacks fear. There’s anxiety to it, sure, but one that pushes characters together, and gives them the necessary momentum to confront agony hidden beneath the surface. It invites us to connect with it, and welcomes us with open arms. Eisenberg masterfully crafts a journey that encompasses, not only Benji and David’s desire to honor and remember the pain experienced by their grandmother, but their emotional expeditions into their grief, and the confrontation that must ensue as they come to terms with their pain.

There is never a moment in this film when human connection does not triumph over pain. A Real Pain encompasses grief as it is, as its effects live within each person who has faced it, lending humor and empathy to the journey of remembering, and the confrontations that must occur to understand one’s pain. 

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