Shock Review: ‘Kinds of Kindness’ – Desperate Filmmaker’s Attempt to Regain Coolness Tests Fan Loyalty!

What seems to unsettle the eminent director Yorgos Lanthimos? It appears to be mainstream recognition. The audacious director’s recent films, “Poor Things” and “The Favourite,” caught even the most ardent Lanthimos enthusiasts (myself included) off guard by accumulating 21 Academy Award nominations and securing two actress victories for protagonists Emma Stone and Olivia Colman. This firmly places him among the most influential female directors since George Cukor. Yet, no rebellious artist feels at ease being accepted by the masses, especially when their body of work often satirizes group conformity.

Lanthimos’s “Kinds of Kindness” seems to be his attempt to break free from conventional expectations. He has abandoned the period piece attire and lavish cinematography for a series of modern vignettes about the dread of seeking acceptance. Filmed in the unassuming corners of Louisiana, these three cynical narratives featuring a controlling life coach, a distrustful husband, and a strict sex cult are depicted by a group of gifted actors who continuously torment each other. Jesse Plemons, Willem Dafoe, and Stone are the main characters, with Hong Chau, Joe Alwyn, Mamoudou Athie, and Margaret Qualley providing robust support.

These subtle and somewhat monotonous allegories are being praised as a brutal return to Lanthimos’s original style. This is a diplomatic way of saying that Lanthimos and his co-writer Efthymis Filippou are merely reiterating previous themes: love equates to control, acceptance is conditional, and independence is elusive. “Dogtooth” and “The Lobster,” Lanthimos’s breakthrough masterpieces, explored these same concepts but did so in a creepier, funnier, and quicker manner. “Kinds of Kindness” clocks in at almost three hours and only reaffirms our willingness to give Lanthimos the benefit of the doubt. We yearn for the perverse pleasures, but what we get feels more like vulgar verses delivered slowly by a tedious person with halitosis.

Each section of the film is named after a minor character (portrayed by Yorgos Stefanakos) whose role in the narratives gradually diminishes. By the final short, the connection between the title — “R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich” — and the plot is so random that Stefanakos’ meal takes place during the closing credits. This type of joke underscores the central question of Lanthimos’ filmography: Why are we compelled to follow artificial structures? All his films depict individuals coerced into compliance. (Only Bella Baxter in “Poor Things” manages to break free because her mind hasn’t learned to conform.) The real question Lanthimos poses is why aren’t we suspicious of the people who establish these rules? He’s instructing the audience to recognize hypocrisy. In this case, it’s the impressively lean Dafoe insisting Plemons gain weight, nagging him that, “Skinny men are the most ridiculous thing there is.”

The worlds that Lanthimos creates operate like a clear watch where all the mechanisms are visible. The intrigue arises from observing how each component of the machine forces the others to conform. His characters express their thoughts without regret. The frank dialogue works best with actors who can be read like mood rings, like Colin Farrell with his expressive eyebrows or Stone, who, when she gazes into the camera, seems to contain the secrets of the universe in her eyes.

It’s hardly surprising that Lanthimos frequently collaborates with his preferred actors. “Kinds of Kindness” is his second work with Dafoe and Alwyn and his third with Stone. Qualley, buzzing with mischief, fits seamlessly into the ensemble. During a tense dinner scene, there’s a wonderfully wicked shot of her anxiety as the conversation is steered towards a home video she’d rather not watch. The ensuing lewd footage evokes both sympathy and laughter.

However, “Kindness” focuses more on Plemons, and the type of enigmatic acting he excels at doesn’t quite mesh with the Yorgosland aesthetic. Plemons shines when the audience is left guessing about his character’s true intentions. Is he harmless or destructive? Naive or cunning? His ambiguity keeps us on our toes, whether he’s a renegade soldier in “Civil War” or an awkward divorcee in “Game Night.” Here, two of his three characters — both victims and perpetrators — make decisions that should be impactful. But viewed through Plemons’ opaque performance, they instead appear predictable and inevitable, like the punchline to a joke you’ve already heard. Still, credit is due to the hairstyling team for his three distinctive hairstyles: a bland sweep, a bold buzz cut, and a monk-like shave.

The film obsesses over the physical body, fussing over weight, measurements, and bodily fluids to emphasize our mortal existence. Characters constantly find reasons to visit a hospital (but never a psychiatrist, as that would undermine the narrative). In general, the style is strict, gloomy, and institutional with a color scheme resembling murky bathwater. Cinematographer Robbie Ryan often crops people just above the nose or focuses on their feet, only getting close for extreme closeups of flossing or French kissing. This playful framing results in several humorous visuals, like when Dafoe, in a clever scene where he dominates Plemons’ every stuttered line, suddenly stands up to reveal he’s wearing, of all things, a pair of girlish knee socks.

The music, composed by Jerskin Fendrix, is equally minimalistic. Sometimes, the piano hammers one note repeatedly like an alarm; during dramatic climaxes, it sounds as if a cat has jumped on the keys. The burst of Eurythmics in the opening seems intended primarily to convince us that we’re having a good time. Similarly, Stone’s solo dance scene feels like a nervous gesture inserted to make the movie trend on TikTok.

I’ve watched “Kinds of Kindness” twice. Both times, I reached the end having spent hours contemplating my own limits. I certainly felt challenged, not by these sketches of a society manipulated so cruelly, but by my loyalty to a director I’ve long considered a genius. Like a needy partner, Lanthimos appears to be testing his audience to see if they’ll stick around without the accolades. I suspect he’s acutely aware of this film’s flaws. If you want to disappoint him, declare it a masterpiece.