Halina Reijn's film Babygirl, starring Nicole Kidman, dives deep via its central characters' complex dynamics of power and desire, provoking discussions about sexuality and shame within the modern workplace. Kidman's portrayal of Romy, the CEO of Tensile, juxtaposes her strong public persona with her private struggles, all portrayed through a chilling lens.
Set against the backdrop of Manhattan's cutthroat corporate world, Babygirl presents Romy as both empowered and ensnared by her desires. Nicole Kidman's nuanced performance is at the heart of this psychosexual drama, receiving praise for its inherent complexity. Critics like Eugene Kotlyarenko observed, "I think for me, the whole movie is kind of a fable or comedy of manners, if you will, about power and control and sex and all of these elements in the workplace, with the workplace almost as the kink.”
At first glance, Romy appears to have it all—a successful career, a handsome husband (Antonio Banderas), and two children—but beneath the surface lies discontent. A review notes, "Romy is married with two kids, ashamed to admit she watches porn and her husband has never satisfied her sexually. She gradually finds liberation through her affair with Samuel (Harris Dickinson)." This affair is catalyzed by her new intern, Samuel, portrayed by Dickinson, who embodies both youth and impulsiveness. Their relationship quickly escalates from mentor-mentee to something far more complicated, as they navigate roles within their BDSM-tinged encounters.
The film's exploration of these dynamics is marked by scenes, such as one described by Kotlyarenko where Romy consumes milk from Samuel's dish, emphasizing the subtle power tensions. Reijn wanted to present such scenes as loaded with potential meanings—where seemingly trivial actions carry the weight of desire, shame, and taboo.
Despite the tension, Babygirl also invites critiques for what some view as its relatively tame approach to eroticism. One reviewer states, "While there is nudity, it never really feels sexy," noting the film's tendency to lean more toward psychological exploration rather than outright eroticism. Similarly, the lack of explicit traditional sex scenes reinforces both the film's innovative approach and its limits, leaving some viewers yearning for more visceral engagement.
Reijn's cinematic vision pushes boundaries, particularly through its commentary on societal expectations of women. "We see these two people go to this space where it’s almost therapeutic, even though the affair is morally wrong. They are hurting other people, but they are also healing," Reijn articulated, indicating her intent to discuss difficult truths about relationships. Kidman's performance taps deeply, signifying the internal conflict within Romy as she grapples with conflicting desires.
The film invites questions surrounding gender roles within both professional and intimate settings, positioning Romy's internal battle against prevailing societal norms. Critics argue this exploration sometimes falters. One critique argues, "The film cares more for Romy’s enveloping sense of self than the depths of her immorality," indicating it sports characterizations of shallow depth. Though Kidman's performance shines, the characters surrounding her often feel one-dimensional, as if merely serving as vehicles for her development.
Physicality also plays a role; Reijn collaborates closely with actors to create authenticity. "I always want to show the shame surrounding sex: 'I want to do this, but I don't think I'm allowed.'" The film's intimacy scenes are shot with careful attention, often framing Kidman as vulnerable yet powerful, yet lacking traditional portrayals typically found within erotic dramas.
Another significant aspect is the film’s conclusion, which leaves viewers contemplating the power dynamics presented throughout. Critics have described this ending as "an afterthought," failing to satisfactorily tie together the film's intricacies and thematic explorations of desire. This ambivalence extends even to the discussion of Romy's sexual awakening; many felt her arc still operated within confines defined by men rather than exploring her agency.
Kidman’s performance has been celebrated as one of her most audacious portrayals yet, prompting discussions about ageism and sexuality, especially as she navigates this complex character. Reviews highlight her ability to depict Romy’s internal struggle authentically, embodying both strength and fragility, often trapped between her public and private lives.
Babygirl emerges as not merely another erotic thriller, but as a dialogue on contemporary female sexuality marked by introspection and vulnerability. The performances of Kidman and Dickinson anchor the film's exploration of desire, power, and shame, engaging with societal expectations by presenting multifaceted and at times conflicting notions of modern femininity. With artistic merit established through Reijn’s direction, the film’s reception hints at broader cultural conversations as it relates to female empowerment and the nuances of sexual liberation.
