MOVIE REVIEW – Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos, whose last grotesque horror tale Poor Things garnered several Oscar nominations, brings us three distinct stories featuring much of the same cast. While Kinds of Kindness may not be as ambitious as his previous film, it’s just as twisted and grotesque — evoking surreal visions reminiscent of Bunuel, Jean-Luc Godard, or Alain Resnais, spiced up occasionally with a hint of Cronenberg-like body horror.

After the relatively “normal” The Favourite and Poor Things, Lanthimos returns to his provocateur roots. He leans back into the surreal style of his earlier works, like The Lobster, Dogtooth, or The Killing of a Sacred Deer. In his latest film, Lanthimos reunites with Efthimis Filippou, the co-writer of his previous movies, to explore the many faces of control: how we resist it but often come back to it, and how it frequently restricts our ability to lead fulfilling lives.

Three-in-One

Kinds of Kindness overflows with ideas, almost as if Lanthimos and Filippou tried to cram three separate films into a single three-hour anthology. However, what binds these stories together thematically remains open to debate. The one undeniable connection between them is Lanthimos’ mastery of tone, creating yet another film that alternates between hysterical and terrifying, even when it puts up walls against easy interpretation. The anthology format brings to mind the theory that when you try to make two (or, in this case, three) movies at once, you end up with none that are truly coherent. Yet, the boldness of the project ultimately wins out, supported by a cast that once again gives their best for a director who knows how to work with ensembles.

The first of the three stories within the film, even playful in its title, is The Death of R.M.F. It doesn’t take long to realize that several characters’ names fit the monogram, prompting us to guess who it might refer to, even as a character is introduced with those initials emblazoned on his chest. It could be him, but Lanthimos enjoys keeping us on our toes, so it’s no coincidence that our protagonist is named Robert Fletcher (Jesse Plemons), a corporate lackey who follows every order from his boss, Raymond (Willem Dafoe). In line with Lanthimos’ previous projects, he takes a relatable concept and pushes it to theatrical extremes. Think your boss is controlling? Raymond dictates every minute of Robert’s day, from when he eats to when he makes love to his wife, Sarah (Hong Chau). Even his order to drug his wife to induce a miscarriage — to remain childless for productivity’s sake — seems extreme until Raymond’s latest directive: to murder a man with the initials R.M.F., which finally pushes Robert over the edge.

The Mourning Cop… or Not?

The middle chapter, R.M.F. is Flying, continues this theme, though it becomes arguably a bit muddled. Plemons returns in a different role as Daniel, a man who appears to be in mourning after his wife (Emma Stone) is presumed lost at sea following a helicopter accident. His obsession with her disappearance impacts his police work and friendships. Yet, when she suddenly returns, Daniel isn’t pleased and quickly convinces himself that this woman standing at his door isn’t his missing wife. Daniel pushes her further to prove her identity and loyalty, leading to increasingly extreme and unsettling behavior.

Finally, there’s the rich R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich, which brings together the theme of destroyed autonomy: the controlling boss in the first segment, the imposter in the second, and now a cult aiming to reverse death in the final act. Emily (Stone) and Andrew (Plemons) work for a cult led by the mysterious Omi (Dafoe) and his partner Aka (Chau), seeking a woman capable of resurrecting the dead. When Emily encounters a person she dreamed of, Rebecca (Margaret Qualley), she becomes obsessed with proving she’s the one. But even as she’s drawn back to the home she left behind, including a daughter and a horribly abusive husband (Joe Alwyn), Lanthimos uses the cult’s inherent obsession with control as a playground for his unique brand of unsettling weirdness.

Three Stories Too Far Apart

While Kinds of Kindness is rich with symbols and avant-garde techniques, making it a perfect subject for academic essays and coffeehouse debates, it feels like less thought has gone into how these pieces fit together compared to some of his best films. Plemons, who delivers not one but possibly two or three of the year’s best performances, goes a long way in holding the film together. Still, one wonders if there was a version of this film made before Lanthimos became a master and Oscar nominee that might have been tighter, more refined by having a little less creative freedom. He deserves to be free from control, but perhaps that’s not always the best thing.

After his recent Oscar wins, Lanthimos will likely return to more prestigious filmmaking, and Kinds of Kindness may end up being seen as a mere detour in what is sure to be a long career filled with acclaimed projects. Even if it becomes just a footnote, it’s a reminder that Lanthimos, utterly unbothered by desperation, is confident enough in his voice to explore whatever fascinates him, whether or not anyone else is along for the ride.

-Gergely Herpai “BadSector”-