Film Review — Babygirl
Halina Reijn’s erotic drama features one of Nicole Kidman’s strongest performances
Nicole Kidman gives a characteristically fearless performance in Babygirl, a provocative erotic drama from writer-director Halina Reijn. Given Kidman’s track record of controversial starring roles — Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Dogville (2003), and Birth (2004), for instance — her casting in a film designed to jab raw nerves is hardly surprising. But she is convincing and brilliant throughout. I’ve always been a huge fan of hers, and this arguably constitutes her most committed role yet, for reasons I’ll come to in a moment.
Kidman plays Romy Mathis, CEO of a robotics firm making labour-saving products of various kinds. She’s wealthy, successful, and married to kindly, sensitive theatre director Jacob (Anthony Banderas). We’re introduced to the pair as they have sex, with Romy’s face in apparent heights of orgasm. Yet, in the next scene, Romy sneaks away from the marital bed to watch porn and masturbate. Evidently, she isn’t getting what she craves from her husband.
At work, Romy crosses paths with Samuel (Harris Dickinson), one of her young interns, whom she previously saw calming an out-of-control dog in the street. Sparks fly, including potentially career-ending sexually inappropriate remarks and a stolen kiss. Romy is concerned she is taking advantage, being older, but Samuel comments that he is the one with the power and that she craves submission. They continue to meet up for reckless sexual encounters, in which Samuel plays the dominant role.
Complications ensue, as they so often do, some of them darkly amusing. Is blackmail on Samuel’s agenda? Will he prove to be a bunny-boiling nutter, as per Fatal Attraction (1987)? Or is he more emotionally vulnerable than he at first appears? What about Romy’s career and marriage? Will there be serious repercussions?
Erotic tales of yesteryear are a clear influence — from 9 ½ Weeks (1986) to Secretary (2002) and even the dreaded Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) — yet Babygirl deftly wrong-foots the audience, often confounding expectations. It’s a non-judgemental work that refuses to “kink shame”, if you’ll forgive my use of a rather clichéd expression (even though the BDSM elements here are mild). Nor does it frown on pornography, and it has what some will consider progressive ideas about the nature of female desire. At one point, a certain character who insists the idea that women want to be dominated is a misogynist delusion, is berated for having outdated ideas concerning sexual fantasies and consent.
This is very much the view inherent in a film that also features another character who suggests female sexual misdeeds in the workplace should be swept under the carpet, in the interests of continuing positive discrimination in favour of more women in top jobs. Of course, what audiences make of these ideas will wildly vary. Some will agree or find it a turn-on, and others will disagree, finding it disturbing and uncomfortable. Others still may simply snigger, despite the attempt to approach these subjects seriously, or point out that the film rather falls flat dramatically in it’s final act.
What’s undeniable is the superb acting. Although Kidman dominates (pun intended), Banderas is terrific in his supporting role, and Harris Dickinson is endlessly intriguing and enigmatic. It’s also worth giving a shout to Sophie Wilde and Esther McGregor, as Romy’s promotion-chasing assistant and her rebellious teenage daughter, respectively. Both have interesting character arcs of their own.
This is also brilliantly directed, which brings me back to my earlier point about why this might be Kidman’s most committed role to date. By “committed”, I don’t mean loads of nudity, given what that euphemism can often imply when cited by critics. Yes, there is occasional nudity, but Kidman has been a lot more naked in other films. In this case, I refer to the potentially unforgiving use of close-ups. Reijn holds her camera on Kidman’s face during sexual encounters that need to come off as both feigned and genuine, depending on the scene. One moment involving an initial encounter in a grubby hotel room with Samuel is a particularly visceral masterclass, in that Romy has to appear both conflicted about her predicament and in sexual ecstasy. There are also scenes involving Botox treatment and similar that require a level of rawness that invites merciless scrutiny. The slightest false note would have shattered the illusion. Yet Kidman pulls it off. It’s an awards-worthy performance, and I fully expect an Oscar nomination to follow.
Despite being widely admired, I wasn’t a fan of Reijn’s previous outing, horror film Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022), due to my loathing of every single character in it. Here, by contrast, the characters are fascinating and compelling, regardless of what we might think concerning the morality of their actions. Some will be outraged by Babygirl. Others will find it as exhilarating as the strobing nightclub scene, in which Romy and Samuel dance amid a sweaty, heaving crowd. Viewer mileage will vary, but this is a fine, albeit flawed piece of raw-nerve jabbing cinema.
(Originally published at Medium.)
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