Babygirl, A24’s take on the 90s erotic thriller definitely did not get the love it deserved during a hectic awards season. Writer/director/producer Halina Reijn and megastar Nicole Kidman crafted a fascinating film that made a perfect foil to the themes of body image and ageism present in Oscar-winning masterpiece, The Substance. Despite nabbing a Golden Globe nomination for Kidman and some major film festival award wins, Babygirl did not translate to whatever warped metric the Oscar voters were using. Still, its impact will speak volumes. From viral scenes—see: Harris Dickinson’s “Father Figure” dance—to plunging Nicole Kidman back into the sexually-charged depths of her past films Eyes Wide Shut and To Die For, Babygirl leaves a milky residue behind. Reijn, who previously impressed with horror/comedy semi-slasher Bodies Bodies Bodies, tells a vital story of sexual repression and power dynamics. Her specifically female-driven point of view approaches a taboo topic through fresh eyes. As satisfying as a random cookie, Babygirl‘s horny tale about reclaiming desire may unlock a new kink.
Romy (Kidman) appears to have it all. On the surface, she has a sexy husband (Antonio Banderas, The Skin I Live In, Interview with the Vampire), a thriving career as a tech company CEO, and a strong relationship with her lesbian daughter (a riveting Esther-Rose McGregor, The Room Next Door, Obi-Wan Kenobi). However, Romy is trapped by societal expectations and crippling vanilla sex. By all accounts, on the surface it would be impossible to tell that Romy screams for help on the inside. She longs for someone to break her free from her complacency. Enter: Samuel (Dickinson, Beach Rats, Triangle of Sadness), a much younger intern who Romy first meets on the streets of New York City when he swoops to her rescue. In Samuel, Romy not only finds another soul willing to match her energy, but a very real threat to her carefully curated image.
Dickinson and Kidman are playful with one another, making Reijn’s words leap off the page. Their vibe comes across as improvisational and authentic—despite the age gap, the duo are entirely believable as a pairing. Each sequence brings them closer together, toying with the idea that Romy’s actions may be exposed. From their initial meeting, the erotic tension only grows greater before they must act on it. Romy drinks a glass of milk Samuel secretly orders for her; later, Samuel walks by and whispers, “good girl.” Reijn finds every avenue to explore this compelling relationship. As Romy’s marriage stagnates at home, she spends more time with Samuel and his mysterious world. A montage set to “Never Tear Us Apart” finds these characters exploring their bodies over and over again. The image of Nicole Kidman and Harris Dickinson letting loose in the center of a thriving NYC rave already feels timeless.
For a rewatch, I had less minor squabbles with Babygirl than I did the first time around. While I craved the erotic thriller element to be fully embraced, the director’s commentary helped to clarify her intent in not wanting to make the conflict so one-sided. Halina Reijn comes across incredibly humble in her feature-length commentary, mostly assessing the themes of the movie and its deeply personal nature. She pointed out several tidbits that were not initially obvious, such as the bookends of a faked orgasm and a real one for Romy as she reclaims her desire and sheds her shame, the mirrored relationship between Romy and her daughter, and an observation about how Samuel does not quite know how to be a man yet. Her anecdotes about Kidman’s sheer force—and her sway in helping behind the scenes, such as securing music rights—underline just how honored she was to be working with the legendary actress.
Apart from the commentary, additional special features include two featurettes and eight minutes of deleted scenes. Insights from the cast make for great appetizers to Reijn’s deep dive on the film. Reijn equates watching Kidman act to a “spiritual experience,” while Dickinson and nearly everyone else have the nicest things to say about both women. Reijn also points out the importance of the score, including the breath of actors, wolf growls, and bizarre noises utilized by Emmy-winning White Lotus composer, Cristobal Tapia de Veer. A second featurette discusses the fashion of Babygirl, which makes for a surprisingly interesting watch. Nicole talks about her experience filming the rave, and dancing for “hours and hours” with Harris. The deleted scenes contain nothing substantial, and are maybe the most disappointing element of the disc—there are a handful of additional exchanges between Romy and Samuel, but not much else to write home about.
Despite a flood of older woman/younger man movies in recent years, Babygirl emerges as one of the best next to a recent personal favorite, The Idea of You. By revisiting this title a few months removed from my first watch, I found even more to love. The director’s commentary provides fascinating in-depth analysis that I had not expected. This title was an obvious passion project, and seemed therapeutic for Reijn. Despite a refusal to embrace the tropes of a standard erotic thriller, the dynamic between Dickinson and Kidman ripples through every frame. The nuanced portrayal of desire, guilt, and power found within Babygirl—coupled with a mesmerizing turn from Nicole Kidman—results in a hauntingly realistic drama for (almost) any age.
Want a cookie? Babygirl is now available on Blu-ray and 4K from A24 Films.
