By Angela Nacor
Halina Reijn’s Babygirl is an erotic odyssey of sexual desire and autonomy, a stark contrast to its comedy-horror predecessor by the filmmaker, Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022). While the two the share thriller as a genre, Babygirl is less about slasher whodunnits and more so an attempt at exploring female identities and their unsung fantasies through the sultry affair of Romy, a submissive CEO (Nicole Kidman), and Samuel, a dominating intern (Harris Dickinson). Yet, what could have been a unique approach to the erotic genre, set distinct by a feminist reflection on power and desire, reads underwhelmingly tame instead.
It’s a shame how laughably low the stakes are for Romy and Samuel, despite the staggering imbalance of the professional power they hold. While, yes, at certain points we see Samuel reminding Romy that he could frame her needy and submissive behaviour at their most intimate as an HR violation, and there’s that risk seemingly hanging over their heads for the whole film, as Romy stands to lose the foundation of her success from the pursuit of this affair – her family, but also the hard work poured into reaching her respectable position – none of it truly matters. Much of Romy’s hedonistic journey is plagued by the incessant reminder of what she could lose, only for her to get everything she wanted at the end: she stays with her husband, Jacob (Antonio Banderas), and reaches the climax she’s desperately wished for for decades. There’s no semblance of character development at all, apart from Jacob’s newfound knowledge of his partner’s preferences, and we’re left wondering why this was necessary in the first place.
Kidman’s multi-layered performance as Romy far overpowers the screenplay. She effortlessly portrays the female experience of it all – the struggle for self-indulgence in a society where female desire holds no shape and male domination is an uncontested matter. There’s a certain grittiness and hunger that Kidman brings to the role that’s reminiscent of her past work in Eyes Wide Shut (1999) and others. We see a woman so desperate to be sexually liberated yet shackled by her shame (a product of toxic gender expectations), that despite the ethics of it all, we root for her necessary pursuit of pleasure. It’s a classic representation of the modern feminist adage of supporting women’s rights, and also importantly women’s wrongs.
On the other hand, Harris Dickinson brings a boyish charm and a certain complexity to Samuel, exceeding his performance in Triangle of Sadness (2022). Where Kidman’s charisma could have overpowered the two, Dickinson convincingly radiates an air of mystery around him. Samuel’s unafraid to assume his dominating role over Romy, yet he laughs at the ridiculousness of ordering her to get on her knees, later admitting his newness to it all. It’s moments like this that shows the authenticity of the pair as they navigate the unfamiliarity and discomfort of their changing dynamics.
And then there’s the rave scene, where not only Reijn’s direction shines, but Kidman and Dickinson’s explosive chemistry reaches its peak. The sweaty and raging crowd, disorienting flashing lights, and Yellow Claw’s ‘CRUSH’ (feat. Natte Visstick and RHYME) make for a hypnotising sequence that undeniably acts as the film’s highlight. In a dilapidated basement full of people, Romy and Samuel let go of their inhibitions and slowly free themselves from the pressure of societal expectations. A powerful boss and a lowly intern quench their thirst for gratification as mere equals with no repercussions, even if it’s for just a moment.
While the film isn’t shy of punchy needle drops with tracks like George Michael’s ‘Father Figure,’ Le Tigre’s ‘Decaptacon,’ and Sky Ferreira’s ‘Leash,’ it’d be remiss of me not to mention the provocative score of Cristobal Tapia De Veer. It’s a different dance to his usual work in The White Lotus, but there’s no doubt the mix of distorted vocals and animalistic breathing allowed the film to be as seductive as it could be.
Reijn reflects on the female fantasy with Babygirl, and while it thematically falls short of anything with substance, it’s not, however, shy from toe-curling moments and amusing exchanges that do nonetheless make for an entertaining feature.
Babygirl can be watched on video on demand now.
MELBOURNE UNIVERSITY FILM INQUIRER 