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One of the most interesting and diverse filmmakers of our time, Steven Soderbergh has always had a distinct style, yet also a willingness to adapt that style to each individual project. With several wheelhouses, which include tongue-in-cheek heists (Ocean’s Eleven, Logan Lucky), straight-forward character dramas (Erin Brockovich, Magic Mike), or stylish action (Haywire, Out of Sight), among the occasional deviation, the director’s consistency lies in the way he infuses each of his films with the same level of kinesis.
With Kimi, Soderbergh displays his penchant for insidious suspense as he tells the story of an agoraphobic woman named Angela (Zoë Kravitz), a blue-haired tech specialist whose job is to analyze miscommunications between users and their Alexa-like A.I. machines called KIMI. One day, amidst clearing up KIMI’s befuddlement over a request for the song “Me” by Taylor Swift and a young boy insulting the device just for fun, Angela notices a strange call in particular. Upon further analysis, she deduces that a woman is being assaulted.
Our heroine uses her limited connections to access the woman’s other files, which eventually reveal that she had been sexually assaulted and murdered…at the hands of the mastermind behind KIMI.
The film is set during the COVID-19 pandemic, and so Angela’s progress towards conquering her introversion and paranoia has had a massive obstacle thrown in its way with the constant lockdowns. Now the world around her has accommodated her need for isolation more than ever, and she finds it almost effortless to maintain her preferred lifestyle. Desperate to seek justice for someone that she relates to, Angela must scrape together courage and set out into the real world for the first time in a couple years.
Taking the overused Rear Window concept and placing it in a more appropriate modern-day, tech-centric setting, Kimi might be Soderbergh’s tightest thriller yet, utilizing an equally economic script by David Koepp – an example of direction and writing complementing one another perfectly. Reminiscent of films like Premium Rush (also written by Koepp) and Unstoppable, the persistently competent narrative finds unique ways to set all its pieces into motion, and without plot or character development stepping on one another’s toes.
Soderbergh isn’t just a great director because of how astutely he maximizes the potential of the scripts he’s given, but in how authentically he maintains momentum, even during his film’s most uneventful moments, all the way to the end. He always gives at least the illusion of energy through crafty staging and camerawork.
And yet, the film does become more about how the pieces are set up than how they unfold. Rather than a “North Star” approach, working towards a big finale, Soderbergh is more concerned with creating a smooth arc. And while there may be a thirst for some sort of surprise or twist along the way (we can predict most of the last half of the movie), there’s an integrity in play that keeps the audience trusting the man behind the camera and wanting to see what he does next.
That’s not to say there’s an overexploitation of formulaic beats. Soderbergh toys with tropes, at times steering things in a different direction entirely – such as when Angela gets captured by bad guys in a van, but then escapes seconds later – but in other moments turning characters into genre stereotypes, such as with Rita Wilson’s blatantly disingenuous antagonist role. Soderbergh also refreshingly doesn’t exploit Angela’s mental illness as a way for the villains to gaslight her. Her issues serve as a direct obstacle and as underscoring for the main themes more than they do a lifeblood for even more cliches.
Kravitz takes a totally believable turn as the skittish Angela. Imbuing the role with exactitude and nuance, and a full understanding of the character, the actress gives her most memorable performance yet. I say “yet” because her work here may get overshadowed when she dons the latex suit as Catwoman in the upcoming DC movie The Batman. 2022 promises to be quite the year for the actress.
Posing the question about where to compromise efficiency and convenience for privacy, Kimi acknowledges that the balance will indeed be different for each person, and that as long as we leave our windows open, we’re saying we’re okay with others peeking inside. Though Angela can accomplish nearly everything from the comfort of her own apartment (short of getting a root canal), it’s her desperation to help bring justice for another person that inclines her to overcome her fears.
As Soderbergh executes a totally satisfying, albeit straight-forward tension-builder, his real objective with Kimi is to show the value of human connection. Most importantly, it’s the real-life, usually anonymous people along the way helping Angela achieve her goal. Whether it’s a crowd of protesters aiding her in escaping kidnappers, or her similarly agoraphobic neighbor across the street who notices that she’s in trouble. Her good deed is being paid forward and learning that humans are ultimately pretty great.