Film Review: Kinds of Kindness

I generally do not like plot-driven films, a kind of film where “spoiler” information would ruin the film, and you are bored if you watch it twice. But this isn’t true for all plot-driven films. For instance, I love Hitchcock films. Even though I know their plots, I don’t get bored no matter how many times I watch them. But for the most part, in my mind, plot-driven films fall in the category of entertainment, as opposed to art.

The key difference is that entertainment is a one-way street; the entertainers (directors in the case of films) have specific emotions they want you to feel. Their intentions are often reflected in the way they frame the shots, light the scenes, and, most obviously, in the soundtrack. For sitcoms on TV, the laugh tracks make this even more obvious. Horror films are the most obvious example of entertainment, although this is not to say they can never be considered art.

On the other hand, art is a two-way street; you have to actively process what you are experiencing and make it your own. In essence, the author (director) disappears because they, too, do not consciously intend what they are expressing. They tap into their unconscious, so they also have to process their own work as viewers, which is why there is no right or wrong way to view it. You can think of art as asking questions, rather than trying to convince the audience of your answers.

Kinds of Kindness is a piece of entertainment. It is well executed and acted with polished photography and style. I would not categorize it as a horror film; I would call it “creep film.” Yorgos Lanthimos seems fond of and is good at expressing a sense of creepiness. I don’t particularly care for creepiness, so I didn’t enjoy this film.

Looking through other viewers’ reviews on Letterboxd, I see they either loved or hated it, which is common for entertainment. Because it’s a one-way street, you can only react in the way the director intended. If that particular emotion is not your thing, you are not going to enjoy it. This is particularly pronounced in popular music.

I’d imagine that the real challenge of making creep films is the risk of people thinking you are a creep. Once the director is world-famous, like Lanthimos, it’s hard for us to imagine the risks they took on when they were starting out. Imagine writing and directing a creepy, pervy film yourself for the first time. Many people will likely feel you are indeed a creep and stay away from you. If you fail to be successful, you’ll end your life with everyone thinking you were a creep. It takes courage to produce a creep film, more so than a horror film. In this sense, I respect Lanthimos, but that alone does not elevate his work as a piece of art. It’s a well-executed piece of entertainment that appeals to those who enjoy the feeling of creepiness.