Nicole Kidman Lets Her Freak Flag Fly in ‘Babygirl’
While it seems like the nation’s youth have decided that sex scenes are no longer appropriate in movies, at least some older folks from faraway lands are trying to keep things clear for Americans. Specifically, the new film Baby girla comedy thriller about sex and power by Dutch director Halina Reijn and main actor Nicole KidmanThe film, which premiered at the Venice Film Festival on Friday, tries its best to have a frank and entertaining conversation about complex desire, both visually and in content.
Kidman, long the industry’s boldest A-lister, plays Romy, the founder and CEO of a robotics company who lives a lavish life in a Manhattan high-rise and a glamorous country mansion. She’s rich, she’s married to a guy who looks like Antonio Banderas (because he’s played by Antonio Banderas), she has two smart kids, and her business is booming. Romy seems to have everything she needs—except one important thing.
That’s sex, of course, especially the kind of sub/dom play that Romy loves to watch in porn. Reijn’s dichotomy is stark but effective: here’s a woman who runs the show at work and at home, but wants to be bossed around in bed. The seeming contradiction frustrates and alienates Romy; she may outwardly coddle those around her, but she’s disconnected, distracted, repressed.
And then, suddenly, there’s a handsome, charming intern named Samuel, played with a strange swagger. Harris Dickinson. The attraction is immediate and is quickly acted upon by Samuel, who immediately sniffs out exactly what Romy is looking for. Dickinson, in a charming performance, cleverly offsets Samuel’s unlikely charm with faint hints that he might also be a bit of a psychopath – which, in fact, might be part of the appeal.
Reijn and Kidman delight in Romy’s first surrender to these desires, to a potentially dangerous young man who could destroy her life in a second. She’s confused and agitated, excited by the stakes of it all. The film is both sly and insane as it chronicles the couple’s descent into sexual exploration, at one point turning the traditional romantic comedy montage into something much more carnal.
One might think that, like 50 shades of greyRomy and Samuel are heading towards a genuine romance. But then Samuel says or does something disturbing, or Reijn chills the mood. We’re not supposed to be swept up in the way Anastasia and Christian are; nor is it entirely clear how much we’re supposed to be turned on. Kidman and Dickinson are both very handsome men, and an illicit fling is always fun. More often than not, though, the sex scenes in Baby girl more clinical than flammable. There is a detachment to them; intentionally or not, Reijn creates the feeling that we are viewing the test subject through a two-way mirror.
That doesn’t necessarily make the proceedings any less interesting. But perhaps one craves a little more heat from a film that’s willing to tackle intimate matters. There could certainly be more disregard for taboo, titillating or not. While we see Romy crawling around the floor and licking milk from a saucer, Baby girl It’s surprisingly light-hearted. It’s not a light-hearted film by any means, but there’s a restraint that prevents Romy’s adventures from becoming truly over the top.
Like Romy at the beginning of the movie, Baby girl also lacks a climax. Instead, Romy’s journey toward sexual fulfillment—or at least toward it—progresses in a gentle manner. What she goes through is certainly important, but it doesn’t feel earth-shattering from the audience’s perspective.
Perhaps this is the clever lesson of the film, a reminder that sex isn’t always such a big deal. Needs don’t have to be treated with such caution and care. Baby girl It probably doesn’t necessarily encourage viewers to cheat on their spouses—but it might entice people, especially women, to try voicing their desires out loud to their partners, to affirm the value of their own satisfaction.
The film’s feminist politics are complex. Reijn mocks the boss stereotype while also reveling in it; there’s a half-hearted argument that while Romy is behaving badly as a CEO, she’s just doing what so many men in similar positions have done. Challenged by Romy’s inappropriate behavior is her assistant, Esme (Sophie Wilde), who represents the voice of reason for Gen Z—or scolding, depending on how you look at it. But Esme has needs of her own, and is willing to do whatever it takes to meet them.
So the moral is vague, intentionally so. Those looking for some kind of principled parable or treatise will need to look elsewhere. What To be There is a power in seeing Kidman venture down a new path, throwing her self-consciousness out the window (or perhaps just putting it aside for a while) to help realise Reijn’s singular vision. One struggles to think of another actor of her stature who would do such a thing today. Ultimately, it may be Nicole Kidman who, among many other achievements, has saved sex in cinema.
