Cannes 2024: Kinds of Kindness; Oh, Canada; Scénarios | Festivals & Awards

“Kinds of Kindness” is really three movies in one—the first two around 50 minutes in length, the third a little longer. The three segments share a cast (Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Margaret Qualley, Hong Chau, Willem Dafoe, Joe Alwyn), a few motifs, and a general philosophy of life that boils down to the idea that some people “want to be abused,” as Annie Lennox sings in “Sweet Dreams,” which immediately perked up my Cannes audience as it blared over the Searchlight logo.

But exactly how much abuse—and how many kinds of sorrow—can Lanthimos deadpan his way through in 164 minutes? Suicide, rape, domestic violence, vehicular homicide, animal cruelty, a miscarriage, forced abortions, cult brainwashing, self-amputation, police brutality: In “Kinds of Kindness,” all of it just becomes stuff for Lanthimos to stage as if it’s no big deal. His elegant tableaux are expertly framed, again, by the cinematographer Robbie Ryan. (The two still have a thing for wide-angle lenses, except this time they’re shooting in widescreen, which gives the gimmick some new inflections.) Your mileage may vary, but at a certain point the casualness with which Lanthimos treats tragedy becomes far more disturbing than it is darkly funny. And in fairness, nobody said that “Kinds of Kindness” was supposed to be a comedy, although it’s difficult to imagine what else it thinks it is.

A title card announces the first chapter, “The Death of R.M.F.” Immediately, we’re introduced to a man (Yorgos Stefanakos) who has those initials embroidered on his shirt. He’s doomed! Or maybe it’s a feint? Multiple characters in the segment turn out to have the initials “R.F.,” including the protagonist, Robert (Plemons). Robert has outsourced every decision in his life to his boss, Raymond (Dafoe), who leaves him instructions on what books to read, what he ought to eat and drink, and even how often he’s allowed to have sex. (Chau plays Robert’s wife.)

Raymond insists on total obedience, no matter how bizarre his instructions or his actions. (One of the better running gags involves his habit of giving memorabilia from sports legends as gifts.) The premise has real potential that is sometimes realized, especially once Stone turns up as a woman called Rita. But the sheer cruelty of the punchline ends the segment on a sour note.

“R.M.F. Is Flying” fares better, partly because it’s more equal-opportunity in its meanspiritedness. Plemons plays a police officer, Daniel, whose wife, Liz (Stone, by far the performer most on Lanthimos’s wavelength), is suddenly located after having been thought lost at sea during a disastrous maritime research trip. How exactly did she survive? Daniel isn’t convinced it’s her. (Her feet are too big.) This time, it’s the Plemons character who makes bizarre demands for shows of loyalty, and the pair’s lives become a folie à deux.

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