Hearing how the Academy Award-nominated Kieran Culkin prepared and performed for A Real Pain brings anarchy to mind. A politely dishevelled former child actor who plays a man who exudes positivity. No doubt there is a darker function to his character. But it comes through when A Real Pain finds the focus between its two leading men, the morality and emotional derailment. Jesse Eisenberg directs, stars and writes this feature with great care, and both men are better for it. Brutal, multi-layered pains which develop into neuroses and little flickers of resentment. Only the sharpest performers can bring out the subtleties of that – and it shows throughout A Real Pain. Nervousness and a carefree nature make for an obvious contrast, but it is the conviction of those portraying these characters which makes A Real Pain such a unique power.
Culkin may rightly be the focus of A Real Pain but the characters interspersed throughout, the different walks of life and the maintenance of faith as a functional cornerstone of life, are well-balanced. Cultural assimilation is the point of A Real Pain, and how comfortable we feel in what our beliefs are, and what our observations of the world around us add. Comfort in our own skin is the most important, liberating choice we can make for ourselves and yet this does not exorcise the painful past, the present troubles or the future doubts. A Real Pain makes this clear. Internal torment does not dissipate because a day goes well. It remains and every character is a strong representation of this, not just Culkin and Eisenberg, who are both fantastic. There is a layer of entitlement to Benji Kaplan (Culkin) which blurs the line between expectant and entertaining.
This is a necessity and it works well. Eisenberg is the ballast as David Kaplan and, in the face of an emotionally volatile performance, will be overshadowed by a fine piece of work from Culkin. But spare a moment for the excellent stock of characters, like Will Sharpe as James the tour guide or Kurt Egyiawan as Eloge. These are brief but well-fleshed characters whose immediate thoughts and circumstances are not changed by Benji, but are certainly affected. Irrespective of the story, the sense of purpose and finding yourself after tragedy, is a quality eye for direction from Eisenberg. He captures the sense of grandeur, of a city healing but also expanding and has a crucial, welcome understanding of lighting in a dreadfully, rapidly evolving modern movie scene.
A final emotional outpouring is what A Real Pain needs and Eisenberg lands it with a sense of grace, and pairing that with the emotive quality Culkin adds, it makes for a tremendous pairing. They work wonders together, but Eisenberg as a triple-header of writer, director and performer, nails it. Nothing monumental or unique and intensely moving, but there is clear skill and uniqueness to his craft, to his static camera observing the room, intaking the surroundings of everyday life. These are the moments which matter – those slow zooms and awkward jitters, the establishment of a living, breathing world which is indifferent to an individual, is what A Real Pain brings most of all. It is seen in the lines of Benji and David’s face, two souls pulling at one another and trying to find some fresh connection to solve their troubles.
