EXPLORING THE SPECTRUM IN FILM - A REAL PAIN
I was recently thinking about how rarely I see neurodivergence portrayed subtly in film. Too often, if a character is autistic, for example, it becomes their defining trait rather than an aspect of their identity that exists in the background. They’re frequently boxed into stereotypes—awkward or excessively nerdy. But where are the cool, funny, complex characters who navigate life with neurodivergence without it being their sole narrative? I want representation that feels authentic!!
When I booked to see A Real Pain, I really didn’t know what to expect. I have never jelled with Eisenberg particularly (probably due in to his insanely accurate portrayal of Mark Zuckerberg which gave me a forever ick, by no real fault of his own).
Since watching Succession, I’ve been excited to see anything with ✨Kieran Culkin✨ in it. He has such a unique presence—magnetic, chaotic, and absorbing—making him the perfect casting choice for Jesse Eisenberg's directorial debut.
For context, the film follows mismatched cousins David (Jesse Eisenberg) and Benji (Kieran Culkin) on a journey through Poland to honour their late grandmother, a Holocaust survivor. As they explore their family history, old tensions resurface, adding complexity to their trip. There’s something inherently funny about grief, and A Real Pain captures that delicate balance beautifully.
The film has received mixed reviews, but to me, it was fucking brilliant. I expected Kieran to be hilarious and raw, but what I didn’t anticipate was the film’s casual yet powerful representation of neurodiversity.
David is rigid, routine-driven, and openly admits to having OCD. He struggles with change and often follows in Benji’s unpredictable wake. Benji, in contrast, exudes unfiltered charisma, chaos, and intensity—clear traits of ADHD, possibly bipolar disorder or autism. Together, they’re a perfect storm, constantly irritating yet complementing each other.
Benji was incredibly relatable and loveable to me—soaring highs followed by crashing lows. He’s the kind of person who appears sociable, confident, and happy, yet beneath the surface, the constant effort of masking is exhausting—shifting between personas, reading social cues, and suppressing impulses just to fit in. In the film, he lives in his mum’s basement with no real structure or routine, his charm undeniable but his sense of purpose unclear. The illusion of ‘wasted talent’ looms over him—a feeling deeply familiar to anyone with ADHD. The frustration of knowing you could achieve so much but struggling to start anything is an everyday reality.
It’s like having all the tools but being constantly tripped by an invisible wire. You know what to do, but execution feels impossible.
The film captured that struggle in a way I’ve rarely seen.
David, on the other hand, has the ‘perfect life’—a beautiful wife, child, a great job, and a well-kept flat in New York. Yet, he lacks confidence and struggles to connect with others. He almost resents Benji for his effortless ability to light up a room, to form instant connections. Benji is unpredictable but, at times, the best person in the world. In one scene, after an erratic outburst at dinner, the group turns to find him playing the piano for the whole restaurant—a skill no one even knew he had. A perfect depiction of hyperfixation and the ability to switch and adapt in ways even those closest to you might not expect.
One of my favourite lines from the film is: “You light up a room and then you shit on everything inside of it.” That, to me, is neurodivergence in a nutshell—the ability to connect deeply, to be electric and engaging, yet when overwhelmed, to unintentionally sabotage the very thing you’ve built.
Being naturally open and sensitive also means you are vulnerable to relational injuries from a young age, which Benji alludes to in his relationship with his late Grandma. When your natural tendency is to be open and loving, it is easy to feel these all rejections and let them fester and grow within you. Me and Benji have this in common.
We live in a world that still struggles to accept people for who they truly are sometimes. I've learned that it's not our job to conform to what others think we should be. Instead, we should embrace our "too muchness"—our quirks, our passions, our uniqueness. However, I do acknowledge it isn't always as simple as this in the working world. People on the spectrum often find it difficult to find their feet in professional settings or to fit into that structured environment, which is reflected in Benjis life.
I could seriously go on forever, but at its core, A Real Pain is about two friends longing for traits the other has.
I often find myself envying friends who are hyper-organised, structured, and effortlessly successful. But I also know that, at times, they probably wish they could move through social spaces with ease, forming connections the way I do. The film brilliantly captures that push and pull.
Profoundly sad yet laugh-out-loud funny, A Real Pain resonated with me in a way few films do. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s one of my favourite films to date. Kieran deserves his flowers <3
