This article contains spoilers.
In November of 2024, the Oscar award-winning movie “A Real Pain” was released. Starring Kieran Culkin and Jesse Eisenberg, the film follows two cousins as they travel to Poland in remembrance of their grandmother, who survived a concentration camp during World War II and recently passed away.
Culkin’s character, Benji, does not have much going on compared to his successful cousin, David, played by Eisenberg. After the death of Dory, their grandmother, Benji struggles to hold on to her memory while coming to terms with what has happened. This film mainly explores the grieving process, highlighting that it is not fixed or exact for everyone.
Benji isn’t afraid to speak his mind, often having outbursts throughout the film that reflect how deeply he feels the situations around him. The title is a double entendre for Benji’s character; he is both “a real pain” due to the trouble he causes for David and is also experiencing “a real pain” because of the loss of his grandmother.
Through their tour of Poland, the focus switches between the worldwide tragedy that millions grieved, the Holocaust, and the personal tragedy David and Benji are going through. It prompts the viewers to reflect on the different types of grief one can feel and how we learn to confront it when faced with loss.
This film poses many questions: How should someone grieve? Is the process linear, or do we constantly battle the emotions of grief? And when will we ever truly learn to be okay with what happens?
A week after I watched “A Real Pain,” my childhood dog, Scout, passed away unexpectedly. I have been fortunate enough in life not to have gone through the process of losing someone close to me for twenty years. So, when I found myself alone in my apartment in Boston on Sunday, Mar. 9, I was lost.
As someone who considers themself a know-it-all, I had no idea how to grieve. I had just said goodbye to the dog that I had grown up with my whole life over FaceTime, and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. For the first few hours, I just stared at the TV; I put on the show “Heartstopper” to distract myself, but I found my thoughts wandering back to what had happened during the ads.
The next morning, I decided it was the responsible thing to go to class to distract myself, but I started to tear up on the way to each one. I typically walked from class to class listening to music, but for the rest of the week, I listened only to the noise of the bustling campus. I would catch glimpses of conversations between friends walking each other to class and it let me place my mind in a world different from my own.
As each day went by, I struggled to figure out how to live knowing that I would never again go home during a break from school and see my dog. It felt good when my roommates made me laugh, but I immediately was overcome with guilt for being able to laugh when my family and I were so upset. I wasn’t sure if I should allow myself to sit in bed and fully feel my sadness, or if it was better for me to jump into my weekly assignments and be productive.
Again and again, I found myself reflecting on “A Real Pain” and contemplating what the grieving process really was.
In the film, David’s grief is more compartmentalized and quieter. He is not only grieving the death of his grandmother; it is also revealed that Benji attempted to take his own life a few months after the loss, adding another layer to David’s grief. Even though he is experiencing two separate tragedies, he keeps his true emotions beneath the surface, hidden from everyone.
On the other hand, Benji’s outbursts throughout the movie show that he has yet to accept what has happened in his life. One thing that stuck with me was how Benji repeatedly found himself frustrated that his fellow tour group members could tuck away their emotions for a more private time, while his own emotions were so intense that they often rose to the surface in public.
I think when you’re feeling pain so much stronger than anything you have ever felt, it’s hard to accept that others around you seem okay. After losing my dog, I found myself getting slightly angry that everyone else wouldn’t wallow in sadness with me and could be fine.
Two weeks after my dog’s death, I was still in denial, wanting more concrete answers on what had yet to unfold in the grieving process. I knew I would never truly learn what I wanted about what was right or wrong for me to feel during this time.
I knew that, probably, for the next few weeks, I would have days where I felt okay, only to find myself staring at a picture of my dog as a puppy and sobbing. It has been really difficult for me not to have all the answers I want about what grief truly is.
Maybe the grieving process is uniquely tailored to each person, and there is no correct way to grieve. David and Benji have such different personalities and grieving processes, but that doesn’t make either approach right or wrong. Maybe the process never really ends, and you just learn to accept the situation more and more until it becomes easier.
When I called my sister minutes after we said goodbye to my dog, I told her, “I now know why people build memorials, because I never want to forget him, and I just want to do everything I can to remember him.” She let out a laugh and then we shed some tears together, but I think the most important part of learning to accept grief is remembering.
Just as David and Benji travel to Poland to honor their grandmother, we will never heal if we try to forget or hide our grief. Remembering and becoming acquainted with our sadness is how we move toward acceptance, and through acceptance, we may find peace with ourselves and our situations.