Couch Critic // ‘A Real Pain’ is ‘Fleabag’ for Men

In my endeavor to watch every Oscar-nominated film of 2025 before the ceremony in March, I recently viewed Jesse Eisenberg’s “A Real Pain,” which stars Eisenberg alongside Kieran Culkin and nabbed a nomination for Best Screenplay and Supporting Actor for Culkin. It dismays me that this film, which I’d venture to say is my favorite film of this year, fell short of a Best Picture nomination. While “A Real Pain” is no historical epic and follows a comparatively simple narrative, it’s the exact kind of movie I love. The character writing is nothing short of sublime, and all the “deep” themes are there — family, grief and suicide.  

As any great film should, “A Real Pain” replayed in my head long after the credits rolled, and the more I reflected on it, the more I began to wonder if part of the reason I loved this film so much is because, well, I’d already seen it. In a way, “A Real Pain” already exists — it’s called “Fleabag,” and it came out nine years ago. 

While I don’t intend to suggest that one project is superior to the other or that one renders the other obsolete, I can’t help but draw comparisons between the two. And I’ve come to believe that both are right to coexist, with “A Real Pain” speaking to men and Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s “Fleabag” resonating with women. 

While I’m being slightly fastidious, I do have a point. Both works take massive swings into themes of vulnerability, guilt and human imperfections. With each project starring a pair of men and a pair of women, respectively, and also being created and written by a man and a woman, it doesn’t take a psychologist to recognize that these identities shaped the final products we see before us. 

On a genre level, both projects are comedy-dramas that function as character studies. They explore the envy we have for the exteriors of others while tacitly demonstrating the complexity beneath the surface. 

Claire from “Fleabag” and David from “A Real Pain” represent the seemingly impressive side of the character dynamics. Both are outwardly accomplished — married, successful and polished — though they’re also somewhat socially rigid. This becomes especially clear when contrasted with their counterparts, Fleabag and Benji. 

Fleabag and Benji are the screw-ups in this dynamic. Both are grappling with the death of someone extremely important to them and are visibly falling apart. They are self-destructive — Fleabag gets involved in unhealthy relationships and Benji attempts to overdose. Despite their more extrinsic flaws, their irreverence is unquestionably charming to everyone around them, striking unspeakably envious pain in their more accomplished counterparts. 

The insecurities brewing in Claire and David come to fruition in single, focused and emotional scenes. 

For “Fleabag,” this scene is gorgeously complicated and perhaps my favorite moment in the series. While standing in her expansive office with its floor-to-ceiling windows, Claire confesses to her sister that she has knowingly stayed with her husband despite his assault of Fleabag. When asked why, Claire responds, “Because you’ll always be fine. You’ll always be interesting, with your quirky cafe and your dead best friend. You just make me feel like I’ve failed.” This moment is drenched with irony and betrayal — it is Claire’s emotional undoing and demonstrates her perceived inadequacy that will always be overshadowed by Fleabag’s messy but extremely compelling existence. 

“A Real Pain”’s emotional climax comes to a head in a more somber and possibly less complex moment. In one of the film’s final sequences, David and Benji sit on a rooftop, combative about how the other has changed for the worse. David accuses Benji of being reckless with his life and taking his privilege for granted — when Benji talks, people listen, and when Benji comes into a room, people notice. David yearns, “I would love to know what that feels like, just once.” It is a concise and effective way of saying the ever-present “the grass is always greener on the other side.” 

These are deeply human moments about the envy of not just what others have, but the way they live authentically, albeit more painful, experiences. 

While both are excellent, I’d argue the envy portrayed in them is gendered as well. Claire is envious of Fleabag’s personality, while David is envious of how people treat Benji. Fleabag’s personality, while unrefined, is magnetic, and it’s a stark contrast to Claire’s ostensibly perfect life. This envy highlights the pressure many women face to do it all. Achieve success, maintain emotional composure, be funny, be vulnerable, be intelligent — I mean, you’ve heard America Ferrera’s “Barbie” monologue.  

David’s envy of Benji, on the other hand, reads more traditionally masculine in its nature.  Benji’s charm is linked to how people react to him — how he commands a room, how he’s noticed and heard. David’s envy is rooted in the social power Benji wields from simply existing in a space — it’s more about presence than personality or emotional expression. In fact, Benji’s intense emotional susceptibility is seen as his greatest mistake, whereas for Fleabag and Claire, it’s alluring.

While similar in more ways than one — both plots unfold in the wake of a significant death, both have bittersweet, almost inconclusive endings and both star their writers — I’d like to acknowledge that the projects still stand strong on their own. “A Real Pain” makes some poignant commentary on generational trauma and critiques tourism in light of historical tragedies while “Fleabag” explores religion, domestic abuse and romance. 

Although noticeably similar, there is plenty to glean from viewing both works, and I highly recommend both projects if you’re looking for up-close-and-personal viewings of the flawed and unruly human condition.