This review is part of Blitz’s continued coverage of the 71st Sydney Film Festival, 5-16 June. Read the rest of our reviews here.
The genuine gobsmacked shock I felt when exiting the theatre after Yorgos Lanthimos’ Poor Things, was something I thought I wouldn’t experience again this year. To both my horror and delight, he managed to prove me wrong through the disturbing, erotic hilariousness of his new film, Kinds of Kindness.
This triptych fable follows three stories portrayed by a stellar, short-but-sweet cast, exploring the bizarre lives of a plethora of colourful characters. Lanthimos doesn’t hold back on explicits - delving into themes of God-like devotion, hints of cannibalism, and good-old polycule. It is every bit grotesque as it is hilarious, and I advise embracing the crazy as the ultimate way to enhance your viewing.
Each story is marked by a different title and ending card, one that ends with either blaring pop music or a sweet piano serenade to contrast the disturbed events we become witness to for each hour of the film. Speaking of, the run time definitely isn’t one to take lightly. Whilst each section is an almost-perfectly constructed narrative, having to ride the flow of so many conflicts and resolutions within one three-hour sitting isn’t for the faint of heart.
The first story, ‘The Death of R.M.F’, stands out as the strongest. Ben Plemons shines as the lawfully loyal Robert, a man trapped in a controlling daily regime by his boss, Raymond, portrayed by the godly Willem Dafoe. The notion of control is played with and manipulated throughout the entire film, particularly in how Raymond uses his control over Robert to play with fate. Raymond is positioned as a deity in Robert’s life, providing him with strict play-by-play instructions for his daily routine, even interfering with Robert’s romantic life. Robert’s willingness to oblige showcases his utter flaw, his glaring need for Raymond’s validation.
The moment Robert attempts to estrange himself and regain his control, his life falls apart. It’s a miserable tale about the man’s lack of self-stability but is lifted by Dafoe’s willingness to just look ridiculous. And as with all good media, there is hardly a lack of queer undertone - from the constant mention of everyone “fucking” to a lip-lock between Robert and Raymond as a sign of affection. The sequence ends with Margaret Qualley’s Vivian serenading the two men as they embrace, closing the lid on Robert’s failed attempt at self-control. He defeats back into Raymond’s arms no matter how conditional, even if it challenges his own moral aptitude.
Via Vanity Fair
The second act, ‘R.M.F. Is Flying’, leans much further into unbearable cruelty whilst maintaining the pathetic comedy of the first act. It centres on Plemon’s Daniel, whose estranged-at-sea wife Liz (played by Emma Stone), returns home with some disturbing behaviours. Stone and Lanthimos’ partnership is now clearly set in stone, his unsettling scripts bringing out the best dark comedy material from the actress we’ve seen in years, from both this endeavour and Poor Things. Her downfall is caused entirely by her devotion to her ‘husband,’ creating an empty, tortured woman whose character is as convoluted as her rescue story. Almost a shell of a human, Liz’s existence almost relies entirely on Daniel’s direction, indicating that she isn’t who she claims to be.
Plemons is entirely unhinged as Daniel, a police officer with a fitting lust for blood consumption. He exploits Liz for his own satiation, though this misery is shrouded in a campy score and comedy relief from the supporting cast, uplifting the story’s eventual demise. Though lacking some charm in the first story, Stone’s dedication to animating Lanthimos’ insanity shines through the cloud of darkness that is the second act.
Via SFF
Thankfully, the third act ‘R.M.F Eats A Sandwich’ is the light at the end of the harrowing tunnel that is this film. Though the events aren’t much brighter, Stone shines in her best performance in the film as Emily, a woman on a search for a person with reviving powers who she can use to rise the ranks of her sex cult. It’s as crazed as it sounds, though Lanthimos still manages to sprinkle his violent, bloody flair into the ridiculousness of this story. The third act combines the driving convictions of control and devotion into a messy melting pot of human failure. Each story centres upon the character’s abnormal morality, and Emily is no exception. Her sheer drive to be recognised as an integral part of this cult ‘found family’ ruins her own familial blood ties.
Joe Alwyn plays opposite as husband Joseph, in a surprisingly minor role considering the movie’s promotion - though his performance was honestly nothing special. An especially minor role was given to Hunter Schafer as Emily’s test subject, one that was too criminally small for Schafer’s raw ability and a complete upset for me. Though this may be for the best, as Stone’s absolutely relentless performance outshines everyone else. Her and Lanthimos are a cursed match made in heaven that I look forward to being frightened by for many films to come.
Via SFF
Kinds of Kindness’s success relies on its disgustingly absurdist portrayals. The triptych never takes itself seriously despite the heavy subject and exploration of the human psyche, with Lanthimos’ outlandish whimsy filling the film with absurd charm. Take the inevitable feelings of nausea or squeamishness in your stride, as Kinds of Kindness, will be the most disgustingly fun film you’ll see all year.
Patricia is a third-year Media Arts student who voluntarily spends too much time and money customising her posters on Letterboxd. You can always find her constructing intricate playlists for her comfort characters.
