June Butler examines the triptych tale of control, Kinds of Kindness.
Director Yorgos Lanthimos has followed up his Oscar-winning Poor Things with a pithy comment on reality, the myth of freedom, and perceived autonomy in Kinds of Kindness. His range and form have evolved into a maturation of auteurism, an inner mechanism of control that certainly knows how to tell a story. Joining him are a few stalwarts—Emma Stone and Willem Dafoe take centre stage in an absurdly sumptuous romp that is as exhilarating as it is ridiculous. Margaret Qualley also appears, although much like her role in Poor Things (Dir. Yorgos Lanthimos, 2023), she is outshone by the outstanding Stone. But Qualley is a rising star and one to watch. The beauty of Kinds of Kindness is that this film is clever enough to have an absence of ego, prompting audiences to view it as either viscerally disconnected, or arguing the case for a sharp-eyed observation on the gullibility of humans.
The story is divided into three components, all centred around a single individual known only by his initials R.M.F.. By not giving R.M.F. either a first or last name, he serves as a linking device between each chronicle. He’s connective yet disembodied rather than sentient, human player. R.M.F. is played by Yorgos Stefanakos, a friend of Lanthimos’s. The first sub-plot is The Death of R.M.F.. Jesse Plemons is introduced as Robert Fletcher, a meekly subservient employee and de-facto servant to the dictatorial Raymond (Dafoe). From time to time, he is also Raymond’s lover. Robert lives in an architecturally stunning modern home where almost every type of luxury is catered to, and seemingly useless items are considered to have huge value. There is one hilarious scene where a smashed John McEnroe tennis racquet is placed in a glass display case and viewed with silent awe by guests to the house. Raymond tells Robert to kill R.M.F., maintaining it is R.M.F.’s wish to end his life. Robert snubs the suggestion and is cast out of Raymond’s inner circle. Robert reveals to his wife Sarah (Hong Chau), that Raymond exercised absolute control over their marriage, including whether to have children and when they had sex. Sarah promptly dissolves the union and moves out of their shared home. Destitute, and without any income, Robert has some difficult decisions to make. The question remains whether he will comply with Raymond’s request to murder R.M.F. or find the force to start from scratch.
The second vignette takes a rather more sinister tone. Titled R.M.F. is Flying, Plemons is reintroduced as Daniel, a police officer, mourning the death of his marine biologist wife Liz (Stone), who disappeared at sea. When Liz is miraculously rescued—by R.M.F. no less—Daniel starts to notice strange details leading him to descend into paranoia. He maintains that the person who was saved is not his wife. As time elapses, Daniel begins to make demands of Liz that become more deranged with each passing day.
The third plot (R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich) is roughly in the same vein as the first, except the playfulness now overshadowed by a relentless, creeping sense of doom.
The core premise of Kinds of Kindness follows the concept that life and the manner in which we live it is completely and utterly subjective. That life is accorded to the whims of another and based on tenuous interchangeability. In all the stories, characters are either cajoled or coerced into obeisance by—in some cases—the most absurd set of rubrics. The dictators seem to have autonomy over others and the recipients of their rules have little to no choice but to follow commands.
All three plots subscribe to Stanley Milgram’s 1963 experiment on obedience, when directions come from a figure in authority, even when those demands run contrary to conscience. By 1974, Milgram had moved into the realm of personal responsibility. He posited if you commit a crime when following directives, does it make you guilty of that felony or simply an accomplice and therefore less accountable? Robert Fletcher struggles with his principles when asked to kill R.M.F., a person he does not know and has never met. As person in power, Raymond commands him to do something that goes against his moral compass. Robert snubs the suggestion and is immediately cast out of his social set. In plot two, R.M.F. is Flying, close adherence to demands comes to a point where a key character’s very existence is under threat. Sketch three, R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich, shows Stone’s character Emily being abused, assaulted, and yet earnestly attempting to remain within the confines of the group of people who are ill-treating her.
Critically, Kinds of Kindness is about dehumanisation – the psychological manipulation that was used to send millions of Jews to death camps during World War II, is being put in place in Lanthimos film, following its diabolical trajectory to the very bitter and very final end.
Adam Curtis in his wonderful 2016 documentary HyperNormalisation, discusses the subjugation of the complex ‘real world’ and reducing it to a simple, one-dimensional domain in which fakery reigns supreme. He maintains that algorithms within social media keep us focussed on things we like and offer up more of the same. Which in turn, makes us think that life revolves around us, because what we see in those funny/thought-provoking reels, are feeds of images supporting that identical view. There is no dissension, no opposing opinion. Thus, the symposium of discussion in the film is groupthink, crowd behaviour, a mythologised locus of control and how free we really think we are. Which, according to Lanthimos, is not at all.
Hans Christian Andersen’s cautionary tale, The Emperor’s New Clothes is about bearing witness to a magical way of thinking. When the spell is broken and people question what they are being led to believe, the emperor is pronounced truly naked. With Kinds of Kindness, the question to be asked is who will speak out first and give the grand deception a name.
Kinds of Kindness is available to stream online now.
1 Comment
Pingback: Irish Films To Look Out For in 2024 – Film Ireland Magazine