Everything is a matter of perspective – what some may find uncomfortable may be far easier for others to handle, and when it comes to some of life’s most challenging inevitabilities, we all tend to deal with them differently. Pain is something we all experience in some way or another, whether it is physical or emotional, and part of developing into a functioning individual is learning to handle the uncomfortable but very necessary aspects of life. Humour has proven to be very effective since it acts as a buffer between the harsh nature of reality and our well-being – but even with this in mind, it can still be a daunting process, especially when confronted with subjects embedded deeply in our collective past. In his incredible second directorial outing, Jesse Eisenberg uses this exact subject to start a series of poignant conversations into the nature of trauma and the path towards healing, and how each one of us is on a different journey, even when connected by an existing, long-lasting pain that we share. A Real Pain follows David and Benji, a pair of cousins who take a trip to Poland as part of an overdue pilgrimage to the land of their ancestors, honouring the request of their now-deceased grandmother, who insisted that they take the time to visit the country of her birth, particularly the town where she lived until she was forced to flee during the Holocaust. Over a week, Benji and David take part in various touristic activities, but their initially pleasant reunion gradually becomes almost unbearable after they both begin to speak about the past, which unearths deep-seated tensions that forced the formerly inseparable cousins apart in the first place. After the subtle but wonderfully endearing When You Finish Saving the World, it was clear that Eisenberg was on his way to a fruitful directorial career, and while it seems quite simple on the surface, A Real Pain is an astonishing work, and firmly establishes him as an essential voice in contemporary cinema, with his handling of both subject and execution being remarkable, and allowing us into a story that feels both intimidating and extremely compelling.

A Real Pain joins a strong canon of films based around people voyaging to the sites of their familial or cultural history, using it as an opportunity to connect with their past and gain some sense of understanding of the challenges faced by their ancestors, which is a worthwhile endeavour for those who can do it, albeit still quite uncomfortable in some cases, as we see for the protagonists in this film. One of the recurring themes within this category of emotionally charged cultural dramas is the concept of healing, which Eisenberg uses as the central theme subject around which this wonderful story revolves. The film starts and ends with cousins reuniting after some time, and in both cases orbits around the idea of using this trip as a way to honour those who came before them, and work through their interpersonal issues, since there is clearly some tension that needs to be resolved, and which seemingly can only be done effectively through removing the distractions of everyday life and setting out on a vaguely metaphysical journey through an entirely foreign country. This acts as a shield from the hustle and bustle of their routine and places them in a position where the only way forward is to have these difficult discussions. Healing is a subject that artists from every medium have often examined, since there is something poetic about using art as a balm for the uncomfortable truths of life, both past and present. For the protagonists of this film, are handling many different existential quandaries, and while the initial journey is somewhat awkward, as they gradually begin to settle into this momentary shift in routine, they start to pay attention to the smallest of gestures, which provide invaluable guidance as they set forward on this journey of self-discovery and healing, a process that takes time and evokes many uncomfortable conversations, but which are nonetheless vitally important in helping us understand these characters and everything that they ultimately represent.

Directly related to the subject of healing is the idea of generational trauma, essentially the epicentre of this film, which is elegantly examined by Eisenberg as he cobbles together some truly challenging themes. Hypothetically, a film like A Real Pain didn’t need to be based around descendants of a Holocaust survivor as they return to their ancestral homeland – the themes that drive the film could be set within just about any geographical and cultural milieux without shifting too much of its meaning. Yet, there is something quite poignant about looking at these themes through the eyes of a generation separated from a harrowing moment in the past by several decades, but forced to reckon with the harsh reality of what their ancestors had to endure, which can add immense weight to the human soul and cause much anguish and despair. The Holocaust was a moment in the past where the extent of the suffering and despair cannot ever be condensed into coherent, linear words – many have attempted this daunting endeavour, and several truly meaningful contributions have been made. However, in much the same way as healing is an ongoing process, examining the past and understanding the experiences of those who resided within it can never be complete. Not only is there still so much we don’t know and understand (especially in a genocide in which over eleven million people lost their lives, where each one had their own story), but their memory lingers and has to be honoured. A Real Pain is a film about not only addressing the uncomfortable nature of the past and working through the feeling of being burdened by generational trauma but also the continuous, interminable act of ensuring that those who came before us are never forgotten. It’s an extremely difficult subject matter, and Eisenberg’s sophisticated, heartfelt approach is incredibly compelling, especially in unearthing the more haunting observations that form part of a continuous stream of works designed to both provide as much knowledge of the past as possible and ensure that it is never erased or reconfigured to reflect anything other than the actual truth, a process in which we should all participate in some form.

In addition to writing and directing the film, Eisenberg also plays one of the two central roles (and considering he didn’t have a part in his previous directorial outing, it’s fascinating to see him working under his direction as an actor), and delivers what is possibly his best performance to date. Ever since his breakthrough over a decade ago, the industry has not quite known what to do with Eisenberg – he’s gifted, but he also didn’t fit into any of the preconceived notions of what an actor should be. He’s too interesting to be a one-dimensional bundle of neuroses, and he’s too compelling to be a supporting player since he can hold our attention with even the most paltry of material, of which his career is littered with many examples. Yet, he has found a niche playing these intelligent but conflicted young men seeking out ways to navigate a hostile world that they don’t quite understand but are insistent on conquering. However, A Real Pain is designed to be a story of companionship, so Eisenberg could only be as good as the person acting across from him – and the choice to cast Kieran Culkin was an act of ingenuity. A supremely gifted actor who, much like his co-star, has managed to oscillate between comedy and drama with equal effectiveness, Culkin has proven himself to be an extraordinary performer. This film contains some of his best work, even when it seems to be spurred on by some of the same quirks that have persisted in a lot of his previous performances. The chemistry between the leads is impeccable, and they play off each other in a manner that makes their portrayal of cousins feel quite genuine. The film is about their journey, and they’re the primary focus, but the supporting cast (which includes the likes of Will Sharpe, Jennifer Grey and Kurt Egyiawan) do make valuable contributions, bringing an additional layer of warmth and humanity to a film that had the primary motive of being a heartfelt exploration of the past, as seen through the eyes of those who now carry the burden of their shared history, and have to ensure those lost to the past are always in our perpetual memory.

On the surface, A Real Pain seems fairly traditional as far as this kind of narrative tends to go – a simple premise that hints at deeper ideas that are gradually uncovered as the film progresses. Yet, it’s this precise sense of unfurnished honesty that makes the film incredibly effective and undeniably moving, not only in the story it tells but also in the manner in which these ideas are investigated. Choosing to position this story as a comedy was a bold choice in itself, and one that may seem inappropriate from a distance but makes much more sense when we see just how precisely and meaningfully the director approached these ideas. Eisenberg doesn’t view humour as a means to invalidate or soften the blow of the harsh subject matter, but rather as an effective tool to provoke thought and show a different side of a topic that is very rarely viewed through anything other than the most bleak and haunting of perspectives, which is entirely understandable but also proved to be a good opportunity to do something quite different. There is an abundance of affection found throughout this film and genuine attention to detail – Eisenberg refuses to view Poland and its people as an austere, monochromatic nation defined by its trauma, but rather a vibrant, beautiful country that is aware of its past but has used it as a means to encourage resilience and strength, with the film being a steadfast ode to not the victims and survivors of the Holocaust, but also those who are alive today and who use their personal history as a motivation to prevent such suffering from happening again. The themes are undeniably intense, but unnecessarily heavy-handed commentary was mercifully avoided – the emotions that drive the film are brutal and raw, but Eisenberg resists the temptation to allow this film to devolve into a cavalcade of misery and instead walks a very narrow tightrope between comedy and melancholy. As a result, the moments of levity are wonderfully moving, and those which are more downbeat feel poignant and resonant, as well as having a sense of authenticity that makes it clear that they come from a place of genuine empathy. It doesn’t avoid the difficult discussions but rather finds ways to conduct them where there are many layers present, rather than a singularly overwrought view of the past.

A Real Pain is an incredible film for numerous reasons – the writing and direction are impeccable (and kudos have to go to Eisenberg for being one of the first American filmmakers to portray Poland as a beautiful, vivacious nation rather than just a bleak urban landscape void of any joy, one of the tackiest qualities of a lot of similarly-themed films), and the performances are astonishing, capturing a kind of earnest humanity that is missing in a lot of contemporary films, even those that attempt to be more moving. More than anything else, this film is a poetic exploration of how the past and present interweave, and the role each individual plays in the process – time is not linear, and history is not something that can be condensed into a mere list of facts. Instead, the film flourishes into a truly compassionate character study about loss and healing, both the process of grieving those who have departed, and working through difficult relationships with those who remain. There is an abundance of haunting moments found throughout this film, and Eisenberg does not shy away from addressing these matters directly, instead choosing to prioritize the more meaningful aspects of the story. A moment of discomfort and pain is worth it if there is something beneath the surface, and we find that A Real Pain works best if we look at it as a dynamic exploration of both the legacy of the Holocaust nearly ninety years since it happened, and a poignant glimpse into a family that is trying desperately to reconcile their complex feelings with those of the people they claim to love, but have never truly been able to understand. Crafted with tenderness and never afraid to make use of humour as a means to both entertain and highlight some of the underlying themes, Eisenberg’s work here is impeccable, and leads to A Real Pain becoming one of the year’s most beautiful and heartwarmingly honest works, and a truly exceptional film.