Film Review - Kinds of Kindness
Images courtesy of 20th Century Studios.
Kinds of Kindness, Yorgos Lanthimos’ immediate follow up to the Oscar-winning Poor Things, is a three-course meal where each dish is more disgusting than the last, resulting in a dinner where you’re not entirely sure if you’re supposed to laugh or cry (aka my family Christmas). This 165 minute anthology film is a return to Lanthimos’ roots of surreal, dark satire, reminiscent of his earlier works like The Lobster and Dogtooth, exploring the many strange facets of human connection through the lens of a nightmare comedy.
The first segment, The Death of R.M.F., introduces us to Robert Fletcher (Jesse Plemons), a corporate drone whose life is micromanaged by his boss, Raymond (Willem Dafoe). Imagine your worst boss multiplied by ten, and you might get close to Raymond. He dictates everything from Robert’s diet to his sex life, showering him with inane gifts as rewards for his obedience in the same way one might give a dog a treat. It’s a darkly humorous take on corporate control, reminiscent of a much more downtrodden American Psycho.
The second segment, R.M.F. is Flying, shifts gears to grieving cop Daniel (also played by Plemons) whose wife Liz (Emma Stone) mysteriously reappears after being lost at sea, only she doesn't seem to be quite the same person he remembers. The first 15 minutes features perhaps one of the funniest comedic reveals I've seen maybe ever, but unfortunately the pacing and tonal balance of this segment drags the rest of the film down. There's one scene in particular that alludes to domestic abuse, and not in the weird, surreal way that Lanthimos usually paints these serious topics. The veil is briefly lifted and we get a scene that feels far too real, yet also quite sick in context of the rest of Flying, taking me briefly right out of the film. The segment is a twisted exploration of power dynamics in marriage, with Lanthimos reveling in every uncomfortable moment.
The final segment, titled R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich, is perhaps the most bizarre. Emily and her professional partner Andrew (Stone and Plemons yet again) are on a quest to find a faith healer with the power to resurrect the dead, under the guidance of cult leaders Aka and Omi (Hong Chau and Willem Dafoe). The cult has a particularly weird attitude towards bodily fluids, which culminates in yet another uncomfortable scene that does err on the side of being too dark, and I'll take this opportunity to warn anyone who finds sexual and/or domestic violence triggering to just skip the film entirely.
Full credit to Searchlight for letting Lanthimos follow up his most mainstream film with one so perversely anti-audience, but for those unfamiliar with his works prior to the last decade, I'd urge you to do your due diligence - IMDb’s “Parents Guide” feature works wonders to provide some more specific warnings for films of all kinds. Each segment feels like a fever dream, with surreal imagery wrapping around narratives that are all seriously peculiar. Despite the more conventional cinematography compared to something like Poor Things and its many lens adapters, this is Yorgos at his most unrestrained.
What ties these segments together is its director/co-writer’s willingness to go all-out on tone. He balances the hysterical and the terrifying with a deft hand, creating a film that intertwines dark comedy and psychological terror, if not always smoothly. The anthology format allows him to explore different facets of control and consent, whether in the workplace, in marriage, or in religion. Likewise, the performances are stellar across the board. Jesse Plemons gets to be the star of the show for a vast majority of the runtime, bringing a desperate, cloying vulnerability to his roles, while Willem Dafoe is chillingly effective as the various authority figures, with ⅔ of the shorts making great use of his potential as a sex god/cult leader. Emma Stone, meanwhile, showcases her range and proves herself as Lanthimos' muse yet again, moving from aloof to desperate to outright zany with seemingly little effort.
The film certainly isn’t all peaches and gravy. At nearly three hours, it can feel like a bit of a chore, especially when certain segments start to drag out in an attempt to further complicate their central mystery. The thematic connections between the stories aren’t always super clear while you're viewing them, and you might find yourself wondering what the point of it all is as the credits roll. But maybe that is the point. Why is it that we drive cars fast and recklessly? What is the difference between the marriage we choose and a chopped off thumb? And who even is R.M.F.? Lanthimos isn’t interested in giving you easy answers; he wants you to sit with the discomfort and draw your own conclusions.
Kinds of Kindness is a film that, while not without its immature and edgy side that seems cultivated purely to provoke, leaves you thinking long after the credits roll. It’s challenging, unsettling, and yet somehow manages to be uniquely rewarding, provided you have the stomach for Lanthimos’ brand of pitch black satire. If not, well, consider this your warning: this is not for the faint of heart.
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Kinds of Kindness is screening in cinemas now. For tickets and more info, click here.