"Kinds of Kindness" review — Lanthimos’ absurd triptych of cruelty and power

“Open your eyes and look clearly at what’s going on around you. We might all be in danger.”

Who wants power? That’s a question at the heart of Yorgos Lanthimos’ queasy Kinds of Kindness, a three-part anthology about people using power to totally destroy each other’s lives. While the connective narrative sinew is loose and ambiguous — perhaps only seen through the use of Greek notary public-turned-actor Yorgos Stefanakos as an ever-mute, yet ever-present figure in each story — the thematic content certainly resonates, all through the shrouds that Lanthimos prefers to tell his tales through. There’s a certain executioner’s hood-shaped enigma that hangs heavily on Kinds of Kindness, like Lanthimos is actively working against the success of his more recent films. It’s an odd duck of a movie, even by the standard of a filmmaker as prone to absurdity and darkness as Lanthimos. After relishing in the commercial, critical, and awards success of The Favourite and Poor Things, Kinds of Kindness is a return to the peculiar, provocateur of his earlier career. Laden with black comedy, strange power dynamics, and some very macabre character beats, making it an utterly strange, but quite compelling affair, if deeply inaccessible.

The film, an uneasy triptych of modern fables, tells three stories set in New Orleans (or anywhere, really): one about a corporate manager who controls every movement of his employee’s life; the second about a police officer whose long-lost wife returns suddenly; and the final story about two cultists tracking down a woman with the power to bring back the dead. While all linked through the mysterious initials “R.M.F.” — three letters which may refer to several key characters throughout the film — the film’s component parts are disparate and distinct, each with their own brand of humour, the surreal, and the supernatural. The three segments of Kinds of Kindness each use the same base of half a dozen or so actors — Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Willem Dafoe, Margaret Qualley, Hong Chau, Joe Alwyn, and Mamoudou Athie — to fill in its multitude of parts, with each actor getting the chance to spread their wings through these weird, assorted characters.

Photo via Searchlight Pictures.

In our first segment, “The Death of R.M.F.,” Plemons takes the lead as Robert, a low-level executive who finds every moment of his life carefully planned out by his boss, Raymond (played by Willem Dafoe), from what he wears to what he reads before bed. But when Robert refuses Raymond’s latest task to intentionally get into a motor vehicle accident, Robert’s life, his relationship with his wife Sarah (played by Hong Chau), his finances, and his career, all begin to spiral out of control. Second, we receive “R.M.F. is Flying,” with Plemons and Stone taking on the roles of husband and wife duo Daniel and Liz. An ideal, yet promiscuous, couple, marine biologist Liz goes missing with some of her colleagues at sea, only to turn up a few months later, sending her police officer husband Daniel into a psychotic spiral convinced that the woman who was returned home to him is not his wife. Finally, we arrive at “R.M.F. Makes a Sandwich,” which follows Emily and Andrew (Stone and Plemmons, respectively), two cultists on the hunt for a young woman prophesied to raise the dead. They end up in the orbit of twins Ruth and Rebecca (both played by Margaret Qualley) while Emily begins to grow closer with her estranged ex-husband, Joseph (played by Joe Alwyn).

For those most familiar with Lanthimos through Poor Things and The Favourite, this film is considerably more paired back, exchanging the historical and fantastical for an urban, Anycity, U.S.A. environment. That’s not to say that Kinds of Kindness is less imaginative or bizarre than his previous work. The inclusion of the surreal and the absurd is felt even more strongly here, as the film teeters just beyond the door of reality, though never throws itself completely over the threshold. Lanthimos’ 2017 film The Killing of a Sacred Deer, the Colin Farrell-starring tale of a doctor and his decaying family, is a good parallel to the tone and style on display here. Both keep their stories within a more believable, grounded reality, with the darkness and absurdity coming from the characters and camerawork, rather than the more literal surroundings. But where Killing of a Sacred Deer uses its Euripidean influences (itself a riff on the tragedy Iphigenia in Aulis) to keep one foot in the realm of myth, Kinds of Kindness forgoes any sense of pretext. We’re left to piece the parts together ourselves, from the thematic content to the cryptic title to the identity of R.M.F. That’s assuming, however, that any of it means anything at all.

Photo via Searchlight Pictures.

The cast is utterly marvellous, with each performer bringing so much to the table. Stone, the closest thing this film has to a lead, is wonderfully self-assured and confident in her work here. While she’s not playing as obviously eccentrically as she was in Poor Things, the layers of subtlety she adds to these characters is clever and refreshing. Plemons, whose star continues to rise after recent terrific performances in Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog and Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, seems born to play in Lanthimos’ playground. Dafoe, of course, has been playing weirdos since before most of his fellow actors in this film had careers and serves perfectly as the sort of “elder statesman” of the troupe. Chau’s performances, perhaps more cautious than the rest, undercut their closed-off exteriors with some wonderful moments of humour cut in. The rest of the ensemble is delightful as well: Athie delivers three extremely measured and grounded performances here, treating the humour with utter seriousness; Qualley exudes charm so effortlessly and playfully; and while he might be the most underutilized, Alwyn’s performance in “R.M.F. Makes a Sandwich” shows that he can easily hold his own against his castmates.

Lanthimos’ signature directorial style, a singular creative oddity, is such a treat to witness. The strangely composed images and quizzical camera movements serve both as trademarks of the director and add greatly to the film’s sense of unease and discomfort. The film is, further, reminiscent of his earlier work, a more back-to-basics affair, basking in human cruelty and darkness. Now this unease and discomfort is also where Kinds of Kindness mines so much humour. Despite its often dark and disquieting subject matter and imagery, the film is profoundly funny. This is no mere sadistic slapstick, however. Instead, the comedy often falls into the realm of bewilderment, a response to deep shock rather than some clever joke or gag. For a filmmaker known for his ultra-specific tone and style, this film manages to one-up so many of Lanthimos’ previous films with its alien-like shell.

Photo via Searchlight Pictures.

Lanthimos’ incredible script, co-written with frequent collaborator Efthimis Filippou (Dogtooth, Alps, and The Lobster), makes the whole film tick at its distinct, idiosyncratic pace. Cleverly constructed and superbly refined, the film is evidently more than just a barrage of strange imagery and off-putting situations. The dialogue burns slowly and simmers quietly. So much of the specificity of Lanthimos’ world comes from the way characters talk, both in sound and how they construct sentences. Lanthimos and Filippou’s text is so careful and full of humour, if decidedly against more normal modes of speech. Narratively, for all its obfuscation, the film clicks together in a fascinating manner, as the parallels between the episodes, the characters, and their base desires begin to make themselves clear. Yet, the film still coats itself in enough nuance and total incongruent madness that it never fits together perfectly. And that’s the treat of films like Kinds of Kindness: there’s always another layer to cut into.

Nothing in Kinds of Kindness wants to come together cleanly. While yes, the film deals with unhealthy power dynamics, the lengths desperate people go to maintain them, and what happens when those dynamics crumble, it’s hard to come away with a “right” interpretation of the film. Lanthimos seems to deny any sort of inherent subtext to the proceedings, letting his off-putting, darkly humorous play out for what they are. Most of the film is never truly explained, with so many of the moments of absurdity going entirely unaddressed. Why does Raymond exert so much power over Robert? Who is Liz? How does the prophesy actually work? To these questions, we will never know. The mysteries remain mysteries and the quirks remain unsolved. Instead of solutions, we’re treated to ambiguous endings, shifting identities, foreboding dialogue, self-mutilation, cult politics, and unethical morge practices. The three tales begin to swirl together into the viewer’s imagination as the lines between the characters start to slip. Are they all truly separate people? 

Kinds of Kindness is not an easy film to digest. Despite my love of Lanthimos’ filmography, and how much I loved a lot of this film, I’m not as immediately enamoured after a single viewing as I was with, say, Poor Things, which made it quite high on my list of favourite films of 2023. As other critics have noted, it’s hard not to view Kinds of Kindness as a sort of anti-Poor Things. Where that film was colourful and fantastical, this film resorts to a more neutral setting. Where that film was much more explicit in its thematic material, this one remains obscure. While it remains challenging, for those up for something odd and bizarre will certainly delight in sinking their teeth into Lanthimos’ latest. Returning to a darker, meaner side of the director, Kinds of Kindness makes for a disturbing and oh-so funny three-hour trip, if you get used to its specific sense of black humour.

Kinds of Kindness is now playing in theatres.

Kinds of Kindness information
Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos
Written by Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthimis Filippou
Starring Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Willem Dafoe, Margaret Qualley, Hong Chau, Joe Alwyn, and Mamoudou Athie
Released June 28, 2024
164 minutes

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