“Kafkaesque,” much like “Lynchian,” has lost virtually all meaning in today’s vernacular. While “Lynchian” can now sub in for anything a bit weird, “Kafkaesque” is often used to describe any bureaucratic nightmare, à la Brazil, or a trip to the DMV.

While not unlike his earlier work, Yorgos Lanthimos’ Kinds of Kindness comes as close as any film of the modern era to exemplifying the actual mode of Kafka, and it does so through the late Bohemian’s favorite medium: the short story.

Filmed after last year’s Oscar-winning Poor Things, and with much of its crew, Kindness is composed of a triptych of thematically linked short films: “The Death of R.M.F.,” “R.M.F. is Flying” and “R.M.F. Eats a Sandwich.” The robust cast, which includes Jesse Plemons, Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe, Margaret Qualley, Hong Chau, Mamoudou Athie and Joe Alwyn, reappear across the three shorts in a variety of roles. The only consistent presence is the titular R.M.F., played by Lanthimos’ friend and real-life notary public, Yorgos Stefanakos. When, if and how R.M.F. will insinuate himself is an open question throughout the three pieces, but his unreadable presence is what ties them together.

I hesitate to summarize too thoroughly, as discovering even the basic premises is part of the fun. Suffice it to say each film, in some way or another, explores the limits and varieties of human devotion.

Kindness marks Lanthimos’ reunion with frequent collaborator Efthimis Filippou, with whom he co-wrote each of his films prior to 2018’s The Favourite. And it shows.

While The Favourite and Poor Things are opulent, extravagant period pieces, Lanthimos’ works with Filippou have always tended toward smaller stories about smaller people. From the horror and oddity of 2009’s Dogtooth, to 2017’s modern classic The Killing of a Sacred Deer, their films together can each be summed up as an alternate universe wherein a single rule, often social, has been changed. The job of the audience is to discover what that rule is. Characters will never acknowledge the rule to be strange; they will only live with it.

Kinds of Kindness repeats this formula (if you can call it that) three times. Actors switch roles and motivations across a shifting landscape of uncomfortable possibilities. These bizarre social configurations and small absurdities not only pose hypotheticals, they also lay bare how arbitrary are our own ethics and rules of conduct.

Each circumstance feels, in its own way, like a wonderful metaphor for something. I would be hard pressed to tell you a metaphor for what, exactly – and I imagine so would Lanthimos and Filippou – but that is just what makes them all such perfect, persistent little riddles.

Each is provocative, melancholic, and wildly funny. “R.M.F. is Flying” in the span of about ten minutes made me laugh so hard I cried, and then made me about as uncomfortable as I’ve ever felt in a theater. Expect to see some people walking out of this one. The mix of levity and dread is difficult to describe; and equally difficult to ascribe to anyone but Lanthimos.

There has cropped up in recent years a new wave of European provocateur: Kristoffer Borgli with Dream Scenario (2023) or Ruben Östlund with Triangle of Sadness (2022) fit the mold. Frankly, I often find this brand of social satire smug, underdeveloped and cloying. Like Lars von Trier defanged. Lanthimos rides this line – but for my money, gets it right every time. He is too articulate, and his craft too advanced, to fall into such a shallow trap. He can be acerbic, even edgy, but it is all produced with humanity, and with the most immaculate taste.

In contrast to his prior two features, the production design of Kinds of Kindness is a stark, simple affair. Still, from first shot to last, Lanthimos reminds with ease that he is a master of aesthetics no matter the material. If anything, it’s refreshing to revisit his eye, his sense for color and detail, in a less lavish setting. Lanthimos has teamed again with cinematographer Robbie Ryan to great effect. Shot in and around New Orleans, the film is a hard-edged rainbow, full of stylish homes, cheap motels, sparkling oceans, ridiculous cars and beards of hanging moss.

A minimal, operatic score by Jerskin Fendrix underpins Kindness’ tonal shifts from macabre to absurd and back again, and steadily reminds that it’s all of a piece. The soundtrack, too, is razor-sharp and thematically intelligent. The title card under Eurythmics seemed a good omen, and that proved true all the way through Emma Stone’s final dance to Cobrah’s “Brand New Bitch,” which no one who sees this will be forgetting anytime soon.

Lanthimos has an alternative eye for casting, and one need only look to R.M.F. for evidence. Other unknowns include a police chief played by Lawrence Johnson (no other credits), whose fewer than five lines stand out as comic highlights of the film. A dour, straightforward psychiatrist is played by one Nathan Mulligan, an art department PA by the look of his IMDB, with an incongruous vocal fry and deadpan delivery that make two unremarkable scenes feel memorable. That wisdom in casting shines through the entire supporting group, from Qualley on. Hunter Schafer even brightens the proceedings with a small cameo. Each and all do wonders with the material.

Many of Lanthimos’ characters, especially those written with Filippou, don’t make an effort to speak as real people would. It’s closer to Shakespeare, or Don DeLillo, in the sense that they are operating in a totally different syntactic mode. While this supports the world being crafted, it can be a tightrope for those tasked with selling the lines.

Plemons, the de facto lead in the first two shorts and a major player in the third, is an incredibly grounding presence. It’s a standout role for him, and he’s taken home Best Actor at Cannes for his efforts. He is a chameleon, but brings to each piece a common gravity which carries us through. Everyone involved pulls their weight, but it’s hard to imagine the film working without him.

Dafoe, though it would be difficult to find a dull moment over his 40-plus year career, is in the midst of a kind of personal renaissance, dancing between memorable roles for Lanthimos, Robert Eggers, Sean Baker, Abel Ferrara, Paul Schrader, Wes Anderson, et al., not to mention the superhero fare. Throw this on the pile. He makes short work of an incredibly odd role in the first piece, and in the third has the funniest haircut you will ever see him wear.

Stone, for her part, continues to prove she’s the best of her generation. She will make you laugh and cry and puke. I hope her partnership with Lanthimos continues for many years. They clearly thrive alongside each other.

Kinds of Kindness isn’t neat. Its puzzles are not solvable. It is unsatisfying. And that’s the point. Like Kafka’s stories, a small rule of the universe will change, and force us to reevaluate every relationship in our lives. Sometimes it brings laughter, sometimes it will suck the air out of you.

More established directors should look to the anthology as a viable form. Small statements can be just as effective as grand ones. Though I look forward to Lanthimos’ next epic, Kinds of Kindness is a refreshing return to his roots which eminently shows he has lost none of his bite. Though it will undoubtedly have a narrower appeal than Poor Things or The Favourite, it’s another great success from one of the few really important directors working today.