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Sicko Yorgos Is Back
Yorgos Lanthimos’ Kinds of Kindness delights and luxuriates in absurdity and abasement. He’s fully back in his sandbox.
It’s not so much that last year’s (mostly wonderful) Oscar-winning hit Poor Things didn’t concern itself with such matters, but there, Lanthimos, working with writer Tony McNamara and adapting Alasdair Gray’s novel, found some quaint semblance of hope amid the surreal ruins. In Poor Things, a tale of exploitation and ruination became, in its final act, one of existential awakening, of empowerment and solidarity — and we could subtly sense the director losing interest, glossing over plot points and sincere emotions in a rush to get to his closing images. The only other figure I can compare him to from the past is Luis Buñuel, who made surrealist movies about crazy priests and sliced eyeballs and torture fetishes and people eating shit only to wind up a part of the international jet-set, getting drinks named after him in chichi hotel bars.
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