For some families, the Holocaust is a story that's been passed down through generations - often with a heavy heart. But for writer and filmmaker Kieran Culkin's family, it's become a source of comedic inspiration.
Kieran's grandmother Gisela was known for her sharp tongue and ability to make those around her laugh at their own misfortunes. She once served her son-in-law - Kieran's father - a rotten meatloaf for every meal until he finally ate it. This story has been retold by Kieran, and in recent years, this type of family comedy has become the dominant approach to tell serious Jewish history.
This shift is attributed to the growing distance between third-generation survivors and their lived experiences. As a result, they're finding new ways to process these stories - often using humour to soften the blow.
Jesse Eisenberg's directorial debut "A Real Pain" explores this tension perfectly. The film takes a grief tourism tragicomedy approach, with its protagonist Benji persuading his cousin David to pose for photos as Polish fighters in front of the Monument to the Heroes of Warsaw statue. While David is uncomfortable, Benji's antics bring levity to an otherwise sombre experience.
In another "grief tourism" film, "Treasure," Ruth travels to Poland with her Auschwitz-survivor father Edek to see where his family used to live. Their bickering undercuts many of the film's more solemn moments. When Ruth finally buys back her murdered grandmother's tea set from the Poles who took over Edek's apartment, he responds by saying she has no idea how much it means to him - only that she now has a teapot.
These stories are not meant to belittle the tragedy of the Holocaust but rather find a balance between solemnity and levity. They allow access to narratives and create space for human foibles, even in our darkest stories.
For writer Kieran Culkin's family, humour became an essential part of processing their history - allowing them to find closure and share their story with future generations.
Kieran's grandmother Gisela was known for her sharp tongue and ability to make those around her laugh at their own misfortunes. She once served her son-in-law - Kieran's father - a rotten meatloaf for every meal until he finally ate it. This story has been retold by Kieran, and in recent years, this type of family comedy has become the dominant approach to tell serious Jewish history.
This shift is attributed to the growing distance between third-generation survivors and their lived experiences. As a result, they're finding new ways to process these stories - often using humour to soften the blow.
Jesse Eisenberg's directorial debut "A Real Pain" explores this tension perfectly. The film takes a grief tourism tragicomedy approach, with its protagonist Benji persuading his cousin David to pose for photos as Polish fighters in front of the Monument to the Heroes of Warsaw statue. While David is uncomfortable, Benji's antics bring levity to an otherwise sombre experience.
In another "grief tourism" film, "Treasure," Ruth travels to Poland with her Auschwitz-survivor father Edek to see where his family used to live. Their bickering undercuts many of the film's more solemn moments. When Ruth finally buys back her murdered grandmother's tea set from the Poles who took over Edek's apartment, he responds by saying she has no idea how much it means to him - only that she now has a teapot.
These stories are not meant to belittle the tragedy of the Holocaust but rather find a balance between solemnity and levity. They allow access to narratives and create space for human foibles, even in our darkest stories.
For writer Kieran Culkin's family, humour became an essential part of processing their history - allowing them to find closure and share their story with future generations.
. She had this one joke about her husband's sister-in-law, it was so funny... anyway, I guess it's good that people are trying to find ways to make the past more relatable and not just so serious all the time. But sometimes I feel like we're losing some of the gravity of what actually happened... my friend's cousin went to Auschwitz and it changed him forever, you know? It's like, yeah, let's have a good laugh every now and then, but don't forget where we came from 
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i love how kieran's fam is using humor to make the holo experience more accessible & not just super serious all the time 
like yeah, it's not about makin fun of the tragedy but rather showin its complexities thru laughter & tears 
Like my grandma always says, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade"... or in this case, when life gives you a genocide, find something to laugh about 
. I mean, if it works for Kieran Culkin's fam, then I'm all for it, right? 
- John Lennon
. It just goes to show that everyone's got a different way of dealing with tough stuff, and that's what makes life so interesting.
. Don't get me wrong, it's awesome that Kieran's family is finding a way to cope, but I worry that we're losing some of the gravity and respect for those who went through unimaginable trauma 
. Grief tourism films can be a delicate balance between levity and solemnity, and it's not always easy to get it right 
. But let's not forget the complexity of history – we need to find a way to acknowledge both the pain and the beauty in our stories 
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. Anyway, I think this approach is genius and I'm here for it! 
But at the same time, I think it's kinda problematic when people use humor to trivialize the tragedy. I mean, can't we just acknowledge the pain and suffering that went down 
? Don't get me wrong, I love a good laugh too, but I don't want my funny bone to come at the expense of someone else's trauma 
. Still, I think it's cool that Kieran Culkin's family is using humor to process their history in their own way 
... dont get me wrong, i love a good comedy, but can't we just have a serious movie about the holocaust without makin it into a joke? 
... on one hand, I get it, we need to keep the stories of the Holocaust alive, but at the same time, can't we just, like, take a break from laughing for once? 
. It feels like we're losing the gravity of it all in our attempts to find levity 