'Kinds of Kindness' review: 'Poor Things' team reunites for three weird, wickedly funny tales
Even if you used one of those magnificent telescopes that can observe objects millions of miles away, you still might not be able to detect even a hint of kindness in “Kinds of Kindness,” a pitch-black anthology of aggressively weird and wickedly funny stories from the wonderfully warped minds of director Yorgos Lanthimos and Lanthimos’ co-writer and frequent collaborator, Efthimis Filippou. This is the kind of film that will send some viewers to the exits by the halfway point, while others surely will hail the bold genius of Lanthimos’ absurdist flourishes.
My reaction falls somewhere in between. There are moments of pure pop entertainment thrills, e.g., the perfect use of the classic “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” by Eurythmics (Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you...) and that already famous (from the trailers and promos) scene in which Emma Stone, her hair the same color as her rust-colored pantsuit, dances as if she’s been struck with a David Lynch Taser against the backdrop of a purple Dodge Challenger and someone in a wheelchair who appears to be unconscious. (When we find out the context of this scene, it’s just ... perfect. Bizarre and depraved, but great.)
Other segments, including a nauseating exploration of cannibalism that feels contrived and attention-getting, had me counting the moments until the next scene. On the whole, “Kinds of Kindness” is a mixed bag of tricks and treats.
Even with a running time of 2 hours and 44 minutes, “Kinds of Kindness” never stalls out or feels bloated, as we’re actually getting three short-ish films, each featuring a deeply talented ensemble that includes Lanthimos returnees Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe, Margaret Qualley and Joe Alwyn, as well as Jesse Plemons, Hong Chau and Mamoudou Athie, with each playing different characters in the three films. (The stories are not connected, though a character known as “R.M.F.” has a cameo in each tale, and certain themes and the New Orleans-area setting are constants throughout.)
As was the case with “The Killing of a Sacred Deer,” “The Favourite” and “Poor Things,” Lanthimos is clearly fascinated with (and perhaps a bit repulsed by) themes of control and manipulation, and the lengths to which people will go to either exert their domination, or to please those who are pulling the strings.
In the first segment, titled “The Death of R.M.F.,” Plemons is Robert, a middle management type whose entire life is controlled by his boss (Dafoe), from what he’ll have for breakfast to when he’ll have sex with his wife Sarah (Chau). When Robert follows the instructions to the letter, he is amply rewarded, often in the form of a piece of valuable sports memorabilia. When Robert balks at repeating a task that could result in harm to himself or another human being, not to mention a criminal indictment, things go sideways fast. “The Death of R.M.F.” plays like a smarter and faster take on the themes explored in “Don’t Worry Darling.”
The middle section, titled, “R.M.F. Is Flying,” is the least effective and most gratuitously grotesque of the triptych. It starts with an intriguing premise out of the Rod Serling playbook, with Plemons playing a police officer named Daniel whose researcher wife Liz (Stone) goes missing on a desert island. When Liz returns, something seems off; her shoes don’t fit, for one thing. Daniel becomes convinced this isn’t his wife, it’s ... something else. After some shock-for-shock-value scenes, including a couple of forays into cannibalism, “R.M.F. Is Flying” ends on an incomplete and unsatisfying note.
“Kinds of Kindness” finishes strong with “R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich,” where we finally get to see Stone’s Emily driving like a maniac in that purple Dodge Challenger and doing that bat-bleep crazy dance. Emily and Andrew (Plemons) are members of a bizarre sex cult run by Dafoe’s Omi and Chau’s Aka, who have tasked them with finding a young woman (Qualley) who has the powers to raise the dead. “R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich” ends in hilariously dark fashion — we ALMOST feel guilty for laughing — and then, spoiler alert, that R.M.F. fellow actually eats a sandwich, which sounds mundane but is kind of brilliant when you see it in context. Good on you, R.M.F.