ing me when you get this.” Frantically leaving phone message after phone message, David Kaplan (Jesse Eisenberg) is certain that his cousin Benji (Kieran Culkin) won’t manage to meet him on time at the airport. They’re scheduled to fly to Poland together to join a tourist group for a week, where they’ll see historical Jewish sites, as well as the house and area their grandmother lived. And David, who hasn’t seen Benji in some time, clearly believes that a certain irresponsibility and disregard for social decorums will permeate their journey; Benji is quite likely to be a real pain.

As the first of many surprises, Benji has actually been at the airport for hours by the time David arrives. But, of course, Benji is a bit of an odd duck – he saved a moderately warm yogurt for his pal, speaks enthusiastically about having marijuana waiting for them in Poland, and for some inexplicable reason isn’t able to play music on his phone. He’s also loud, unafraid to curse in front of strangers, and interruptive; attitude shifts and subject changes are curiously abrupt. “You never evaluated your own feet?”

David is strait-laced, busy, distant, traditional, and a family man, while his traveling companion is erratic, jobless, outgoing, prone to emotional outbursts, and single. It’s a clashing, contrasting combination that proves to be thoroughly cinematic. It’s also routinely funny, even if many of the comedic moments dwell on situations of societal awkwardness; the humor of many sequences is somewhat realistic, relying not on over-the-top physical comedy as much as the laughable discomfort of two drastically unlike people sharing intimate spaces and meaningful places (with a hint of an ultra-modern “Being There”). “No one wants to be alone, Dave.”

Interestingly, as outrageous and sporadic as many of Benji’s ideas and influences are, David is continually shocked that others join in and that he reluctantly but eventually follows suit, too; Benji’s unorthodox, capricious personality is strangely infectious and, strangely, transformative. At some times, the pair highlight conformity versus antiestablishment; at others, inclusion versus exclusion. It’s a bizarre duality, as if one person has separated into two distinct sides – not good and evil, but conscientious and devil-may-care. Fascinatingly, Benji also vacillates between tremendously annoying, seemingly triggered by random events, and disruptive or inconsiderate to everyone in the Holocaust tour group, to insightful, sensitive, and pragmatic. Problematically, however, Benji is so frank and pushy and rude that he oftentimes grows exhausting; he’s not a standard foil or villain, but he’s definitely the film’s major source of conflict. “She’s got this deep sadness behind her eyes.”

“A Real Pain” isn’t concerned with telling a unique or engaging story (though footage of concentration camp components is undoubtedly potent); rather, it’s an in-depth character study, providing modest entertainment in both its examination of disparate personalities and with its wry commentary on how eccentric people can impact the conventional. It’s a small picture, even if its subjects and themes are large, mostly content with little interactions as opposed to indelible confrontations. While Eisenberg (who also writes and directs) can’t seem to avoid playing himself (or his typical screen persona), Culkin is exceptional, demonstrating an impressive range and remarkable genuineness. His is a flawed, tormented role, but it’s refreshingly believable and intermittently poetic – even if the narrative tends to ignore that Benji isn’t just a cool, personable, candid fellow who speaks his mind when no one else has the courageous brazenness, but instead likely has one or more significant mental disorders. And that notion diverges pointedly from the gentle piano music and hallowed locations that pepper the film.

– Mike Massie