Jesse Eisenberg delivers a story tethered to the human condition of longing for something “else” or “more” in the triumphant A Real Pain. Directed, written, and starring Eisenberg, the film perfectly balances dry humor and understated, character-driven drama. At a well-paced 90 minutes, the story never overstays its welcome. Instead, the story succeeds because, despite its brevity, it streamlines a beautifully executed narrative that needs no more or less than what it’s being given. 

A Real Pain follows David (Eisenberg) and Benji (Kieran Culkin), two cousins who could be mistaken for brothers for how closely they grew up together. However, despite being born mere weeks apart, they’re polar opposites. Despite this, they share an often exasperated fondness for one another—with David, in particular, keeping a watchful eye out for Benji. In order to honor their late grandmother, the two embark on a tour of Poland to explore their family history while paying their respects at their grandmother’s childhood home. 

There’s a simplistic, linear structure to the film that could easily be mistaken as dull. But the rapid-fire dialogue and meditations on life and losses embolden the otherwise straightforward story with unexpected vigor. Eisenberg and cinematographer Michał Dymek shoot everything from the bustling airport to the Polish countryside with grace as we move forward along with these characters. 

However, while the direction is confident and observational, especially when highlighting the magnitude of emotions Culkin’s face bears while still withholding, the writing pulls it all together. The script is simply remarkable in its conscious depiction of vulnerability that’s almost too raw to watch. Eisenberg’s script feels personal, even if it’s fictional, and it’s best seen in the relationship between Benji and David. 

Despite his constant proclamations of how much he loves his cousin, how close they are, and how integral David is in his life, Benji is quick to punch down and belittle. He tells David that no one likes to walk alone when talking about another traveler, yet leaves him in the dust to speak with her instead. He calls out his insecurities in public while telling him that he has no problem with his cousin’s shortcomings. Eisenberg captures the grind of it, shoulders hunching further and further as he either apologizes for Benji’s behavior or watches in amazement as Benji somehow pulls off being a brazen ass with little consequence. 

And that’s because as impulsive and self-righteous Benji is, so many of his tirades have just enough truth to make them justifiable. Even while so many of us would shrink away from the kind of conflict he so vigorously chases, we can’t deny that he comes from a place of honesty. It’s the critical difference between Benji and David. David believes there’s a time and place to express pain and grief. Benji unleashes it all like a tidal wave. 

It’s what makes the centerpiece moment of the film, a taut and revealing dinner, all the more poignant. While it seems like David is getting his moment to unload and overshare, as Benji might, with no repercussions, the dynamics of the group tour remain unchanged. It’s a brilliantl sequence that shoulders the weight of the tension into a precarious position. We understand why Benji draws people in. And, aided by Culkin’s tumultuous performance, we feel for him and the hurdles he’s grappling with. But it’s hard not to feel how David wilts in his presence viscerally.

There’s just such honesty when David tells others or even Benji himself about the envy he harbors. It’s a profoundly relatable phenomenon. The ability to adore someone and yet be jealous of what you perceive they have that you don’t. In my pettiest, ugliest moments, I long to be prettier. I want to be thinner and have a life that affords me more time, money, and energy to achieve a desired weight. Sometimes, I wish to be more naturally funny and intellectual. I long for all of these elements that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things because we’re all largely longing for something that would make us, in our own mind’s eye, better than the sum of our parts. It’s so frustratingly human for us to do so. 

A Real Pain captures that bruising frustration. The film is still wickedly funny, with Culkin’s wry and motormouth delivery landing some searing punches. But any longevity the film has is due to the script, which is far more revealing and prickly than trailers might suggest. Introspective yet light on its feet, it speaks to any of us who’ve ever struggled to find our footing in a dynamic. To call the relationship between Benji and David toxic would dismiss the writing. Instead, it showcases the messiness of what comes when we grow up along someone only for our paths to minutely diverge over time until what we miss isn’t what have in the present but who we had in the past. 

Aided by two dynamic central performances, A Real Pain is a vibrant character study. With cutting humor and well-paced introspection, the film allows grief room to breathe without any easy answers. Love and mourning are messy, and Eisenberg’s script honors this. 

A Real Pain is out now in theaters. 

Images courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.

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NEW YORK (OSV News) – Why not make a Christmas-themed action flick starring Dwayne Johnson as Kris Kringle’s chief bodyguard? The answer to that question is revealed in “Red One” (Amazon MGM).

The attempt to put Santa Claus (J.K. Simmons) in the middle of a lot of frenetic brawling and then wrap the whole thing up with a climactic sleigh chase leads to a hopelessly unbalanced tone in this ill-conceived holiday offering. Despite a conversion story for one of the main characters, moreover, this is far too hard-edged a production to be in any way family-friendly.

After St. Nick is kidnapped, Johnson’s Callum Drift and his team trace the breach of North Pole security that enabled the abduction to gifted but mercenary internet hacker Jack O’Malley (Chris Evans). Since cynical Jack has, since childhood, denied the very existence of the Jolly One, however, it soon becomes clear that, for all his moral shortcomings, he was acting inadvertently.

Belatedly realizing what a catastrophe he’s helped bring about, Jack agrees to help Callum and his boss, Zoe (Lucy Liu), catch the real culprit. But straight-arrow Callum has taken an instant dislike to this shady scoundrel, and only agrees to team with him under orders from Zoe. So the newly-minted odd couple take up the chase.

Clues eventually lead them to one of Santa’s long-standing adversaries, a shape-shifting witch called Gryla (Kiernan Shipka). With Santa neutralized, she plans to ruin the impending holiday by punishing every person on his naughty list. Needless to say, that means a host of potential victims around the world.

The mayhem Gryla’s nefarious plot unleashes remains thoroughly stylized throughout and the values put forward in an almost preachy way by Chris Morgan’s script are respectable from a Judeo-Christian perspective. Thus Gryla is about retribution, but Santa, who sees the inner child in even the most wayward grown-up, is about mercy and forbearance.

As for Jack, isn’t it high time he worked on being a better father to his mildly misbehaving son, Dylan (Wesley Kimmel)? The lad’s mom, Olivia (Mary Elizabeth Ellis) — to whom, we learn, Jack was never married — certainly thinks so.

All well and good. Yet, cinematically, director Jake Kasdan never finds his footing. Nor does it seem likely that he ever could have, since early scenes alternately set in Aruba and at the site of Santa’s captivity may have viewers of a certain age imagining the effect of Father Christmas wandering into an episode of “Miami Vice.”

To put it another way, Dasher and Dashiell Hammett simply do not mix.

Additionally, “Red One” is a good reminder that not every Yuletide movie is geared toward youngsters. In this case, the screenplay’s vulgar vocabulary, while certainly not excessive by Hollywood standards, does flag the proceedings as strictly off-limits for kids.

The film contains considerable bloodless violence, fleeting partial nudity, references to a character’s out-of-wedlock birth, about a dozen instances each of mild swearing and crude language, at least one rough term and a couple of crass expressions. The OSV News classification is A-III — adults.  The Motion Picture Association rating is PG-13 — parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

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Maybe the answer to “Why did Warner Brothers barely release Clint Eastwood’s ‘final film?” was that it’s just not very good.

“Juror # 2” is competently cast, acted, shot and put together. But the script is melodramatic to the point of “hackneyed,” with a couple of unintentional laughs thrown in for good measure. I caught at least one continuity error, and that is about the only thing that really held my attention the rest of the way through this eye-roller of a Clint curtain call.

Others can grade great grandpa on the curve, but about the best you can say about this “Matlock” melodrama is that it’s not “Cry Macho,” even if it’s not any better than that the worst of the “final films” that preceded it.

Nicholas Hoult stars as a recovering alcoholic and expectant father who finds himself on a Savannah murder trial jury in which he has a very important important piece of evidence about the crime which the accused is seemingly certain to have commited.

Juror number two is pretty sure he himself did it.

Seeing as how another juror turns out to be a retired cop, you have to wonder if the “real” killer will get away with it. And you ponder the competence of the prosecuting attorney, running for DA (Toni Collette) and the public defender (Chris Messina) during voir dire (jury questioning and selection).

But that’s kind of the point. Eastwood’s conjured-up a condemnation of America’s justice system, and in his most Clint touch of all, leaves the rush-to-judgement “their only suspect” cops out of the equation altogether. Yeah Clint, prosecutorial misconduct along the Georgia coast always has a local policing element. Or didn’t you hear?

Jurors bicker over a verdict with the two Black jurors (Cedric Yarbrough and Adienne C. Moore) the quickest to vote “guilty” to get out of there and go home. The others, urged on by Justin (Hoult), start teasing-out other possible solutions to the mystery, and break the judge’s strict orders to not attempt their “own investigation.”

The most tained juror of all consults his AA sponsor (Kiefer Sutherland) who conveniently turns out to be another attorney. And the advice that counselor counsels is jaw-dropping, more dramatically convenient than real world ethical.

Coincidences like that abound as our guilty juror flashes back to that fateful night and tries to head off A) sending an innocent man to prison and B) to void letting suspicion fall on him as he attempts that.

Eastwood serves up a politically correct jury — white, Black, Asian, young, old, etc. — passing judgment on a case so convoluted and a screenplay so contorted that even the aspiring DA starts doing her own investigating. Because again, the COPS are left out of this altogether.

The strangers in the jury room leap into instant “old man” and “stoner” insults, this coming after the second or third reference to “this flawed process” and “imperfect it may be” in court. The worst thing anyone calls the DA is “a politician.” That’s the depth of the messaging here.

Further complicating our suspect juror’s attack of conscience and rationalizations about the other suspect being “a bad dude” is his “problem pregnancy” wife (Zoey Deutch) who needs him by her side once he’s saved the innocent man and covered his own tracks from within the jury room.

I was willing to go along with some of this as Eastwood goes through the motions of presenting the jury selection and the trial. He can’t reinvent the genre, so he doesn’t try.

But the picture isn’t playing and there’s little suspense and even less logic you start taking note of the abrupt shifts in the not-quite-caricatured characters and the plot. You hear a juror accuse another of changing his or her tune from what he said “just the other day” on the FIRST day of deliberations.

And you take comfort in Collette, Yarbrough, Simmons, Deutch and Sutherland, the stand-outs from the cast, as you pity those who aren’t as compelling as they might have been were they working for anybody other than “One Take Clint.”

Rating: PG-13, violent images, profanity

Cast: Nicholas Hoult, Toni Collette, Chris Messina,
Cedric Yarbrough, J.K. Simmons, Leslie Bibb, Adrienne C. Moore, Kiefer Sutherland and Zoey Deutch.

Credits: Directed by Clint Eastwood, scripted by Jonathan A. Abrams. A Warner Bros. release.

Running time: 1:54