“It could be worse.” It’s the statement that no-one wants to hear, particularly while sharing real troubles or just enjoying a good old-fashioned rant. Hearing “it could be worse” from another person rarely helps alleviate our own pain or strife. But when we ourselves remember that it, indeed, often could be worse, the sentiment can help us gain perspective.

Who has been able to watch the atrocities of the past year, and not thought about how precious life is, how incredibly lucky and privileged we are to not live in a country under attack – and been reminded to keep our pain in perspective? Pain does not disappear just because we know other people experience it more, but the knowledge can let us think about pain in a different way.
This tension between ordinary individual pain and the pain of genuine atrocity plays out in the tragicomic A Real Pain, which is written, directed by and stars Jesse Eisenberg, alongside Kieran Culkin, who just this week was awarded a Golden Globe for his performance.

The story of two once-close cousins who go to southeastern Poland on a guided tour of a concentration camp, as well as to visit the childhood home of their recently deceased grandmother, Eisenberg’s screenplay explores the nature of pain, grief, loss and belonging with depth, but also wit and warmth.

Eisenberg plays David, a responsible and somewhat tightly wound family man, while Culkin plays the charming, obnoxious, mercurial and confrontational Benji, a somewhat stunted manchild, who spent the years before his grandmother’s death living in her basement smoking weed.

We learn that Benji has been struggling since his grandmother’s death, and that David is concerned, but Benji isn’t revealing any vulnerability, at least not first. He bounds into the airport, hotel room and guided tour group with an exuberant energy, which startles the thoughtful but mild-mannered British tour guide, James (Will Sharpe). James guides the group through Warsaw, the medieval city of Lublin, and the Majdanek concentration camp, where an estimated 1.7 million Polish Jews were killed.

The history is profound and weighted, but A Real Pain grounds itself in the relationship between David and Benji, becoming an odd-couple road trip movie, with a lot of more thought and heart. Whether interacting with their fellow travellers (nicely played by Jennifer Grey, Kurt Egyiawan, Liza Sadovy and Daniel Oreskes), or peeling off to chat and bridge the distance that’s emerged between them, Eisenberg’s fidgety anxiety beautifully contrasts with Benji’s shameless impulsivity.

Through teasing, reminiscing, philosophising and some light weed-smuggling, train hopping misadventures, we get glimpses both of the children these characters once were, and the men they’re struggling to be.

It’s not just their personalities that are different, but the way they deal with – or appear to deal with – grief. Anxious David attends to history – both of his grandmother, who survived the Holocaust “by a thousand tiny miracles”, and the unthinkably large scale of World War II – by deferring to politeness, respect and manners. Benji, meanwhile, can throw out a statement of raw vulnerability and an offensively flippant, expletive-laden joke within the same breath.

Benji’s livewire sensitivity is an asset and a liability – he connects with people more easily and genuinely than the more reserved David, injecting energy, curiosity and genuine fun into many of his interactions. But he also forces his every emotion onto the people around him. When the tour group sit in the first-class cabin of a train, Benji cannot cope with the painful irony of their privilege compared to the Jewish people forced on trains to their death and explodes at the group.

He’s not wrong to address the inherently awkward tension of what it is to be a tourist of genocide, and indeed over the film, it is Benji who highlights many of the problematic issues with trauma tourism. But his way of grieving is not the only one – something David struggles with, feeling Benji’s more expressive personality leaves no room for his own emotions.

It’s clear that while David’s traditional life brings him joy and fulfilment, part of him resents the selfish freedom of Benji’s existence, while also recognising its emptiness. Later in the film, we learn about another reason for David’s depth of love and anger towards his cousin, and the burden of responsibility he feels for him.

Eisenberg and Culkin are fantastic, with the latter in particular bringing a naturalistic charisma to Benji, who endears and infuriates in equal measure. Indeed, Culkin – having proven his incredible acting abilities on Succession – is simply remarkable, with an onscreen presence that’s raw, organic and uniquely his own.

But Eisenberg’s work here as an actor, writer and director shouldn’t be overlooked. For a film tackling such heavy topics, his screenplay is witty and pacy. In addition, his shooting style is respectful but realistic, and his use of music delicate and thoughtful. When the tour group walk through the concentration camp, the score stops, knowing that no extra emotional cues are needed.

Trim, deft and perfectly paced, A Real Pain is not only an intelligent exploration of grief, pain and loss, but also a perfectly pitched character study of two men who love each other across their differences. It validates individual pain and suffering, while acknowledging the unimaginable weight of history, and reminds us of the power of connection. A little gem.

In cinemas now. Watch the trailer below: