Kajillionaire is not a crowd-pleaser in the traditional sense. It is too weird, too slow, and too sad for that. But for those who click with its frequency, it is a masterpiece. It is a film that argues that the greatest heist of all isn’t stealing money—it’s stealing back your own capacity to feel.
★★★★½ (4.5/5) Where to watch: Available for rent on most major VOD platforms (as of original release; check current streaming availability). Kajillionaire 2020
If you come expecting the slick, high-stakes cons of Ocean’s 8 , you will be delightfully disoriented. The “crimes” of the Dynes family are painfully mundane: cheating a dry cleaner out of $12, returning expired products to a grocery store for store credit, or, in their most ambitious scheme, stealing postage from a shipping center. The true drama isn’t the heist—it’s the emotional repression. The film introduces us to Theresa (Debra Winger) and Robert (Richard Jenkins), two middle-aged grifters who have turned parenting into a long-term scam. They have raised their 26-year-old daughter, Old Dolio (Evan Rachel Wood), not as a child, but as a third accomplice. Old Dolio has never been hugged, has never heard the words “I love you,” and sleeps on a yoga mat on the floor of their leaky, debt-ridden office space. She is a ghost in a bowl cut, wearing baggy men’s clothes and speaking in a flat, robotic monotone. Kajillionaire is not a crowd-pleaser in the traditional
In the landscape of modern independent cinema, few voices are as distinctively off-kilter and deeply human as Miranda July’s. With her fourth feature film, Kajillionaire (2020), July delivers a heist movie where the loot isn’t money, but genuine human connection. It’s a film about a family of small-time grifters living on the fringes of Los Angeles, and it is as bizarre, heartbreaking, and unexpectedly beautiful as anything July has ever created. It is a film that argues that the
Richard Jenkins, known for his everyman warmth, is terrifyingly effective here as Robert. He speaks in a gentle, almost loving whisper while systematically robbing his daughter of her identity. He has named her “Old Dolio” to make her more memorable to the police (a fake name is harder to remember, he explains), and he treats her share of the loot as a business expense. Winger’s Theresa is a master of passive aggression, pouting when the con doesn’t go her way. Together, they form a closed loop of transactional cruelty. The film’s axis shifts with the arrival of Melanie (Gina Rodriguez), a cheerful, impulsive stranger who accidentally gets roped into the family’s biggest scheme. Melanie is everything the Dynes are not: she is tactile, spontaneous, and emotionally literate. When she sees Old Dolio flinch at the possibility of a hug, she doesn’t recoil—she pushes gently forward.