Venice 2024 (Competition): Babygirl (by Halina Reijn) | Review
Babygirl, which premiered at the 81st Venice Film Festival, finds Nicole Kidman besotted with a younger man only a few months after the release of a similarly themed, albeit much more PG, Netflix film Family Affair.
Babygirl opens with sighs of passion—let’s call them that—between spouses Romy and Jacob, played by Nicole Kidman and Antonio Banderas, respectively. In the very next scene, we find ourselves in a Don Jon (2013) situation as Romy rushes off to another room post-coitus to look at porn and find the pleasure she was missing.
Romy, in addition to being a caring mother and wife, is a successful career woman. She is the CEO of a warehouse automation company, the success of which allows her husband to pursue his passion for off-Broadway theatre and her daughters to freely explore their personalities and sexuality. Romy, though, seems to feel as automated in her life as one of her systems.
Enter Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a mysterious young intern who excites Romy when he tames a raging dog on the street. Could he have what it takes to take control of Romy, which seems to be her big turn-on? She is eager to find out. Thus, we find ourselves in one of the weirdest, kindest illicit sexual relationships to be seen on film. But to what end?
Neither Samuel nor Romy falls in love with one another, so jealousy is never the issue. Secondly, when they engage in what is supposed to be lascivious role play, it plays out as an outtake rather than a scene from an erotic thriller. Kidman often covers her eyes in disbelief at what she’s about to do, and Dickinson delivers his lines with a self-effacing laugh. Is this the result of director Halina Reijn’s feminine touch? Is this the answer to pleas for more female-centered roles and the female gaze? Is this what #MeToo was about? Accountability does seem to be a major point.
In one of her half-hearted attempts to end the affair, Romy does it because she “has power over” the younger intern. “I think I have power over you,” he answers back. If he tells, Romy’s life will be over in a heartbeat, and that makes him confident that he’s in charge. This brings into question why Romy is so keen to give in to a person she barely knows. Could it be that being in charge of the economic, social, and emotional well-being of everyone in her family is a strain that only an affair can alleviate? That feels like lazy storytelling that we would boo if the roles were reversed.
On the other hand, the whole Samuel business seems to be set up against her by a dissatisfied assistant. “I firmly believed women in power would behave differently,” she says dryly before listing points in which she wants to see Romy improve: more positions for women at the top of the company, better leadership, to each what they deserve… Wishful thinking like that. Romy’s sin is that once she got the privilege of money and status, she behaved like a man. Bad girl!
Babygirl cannot seem to decide if it is a film about the celebration of female pleasure in all its nasty forms or if it’s a film about female responsibility to each individual woman as well as society as a whole—one seemingly incompatible with the other. With a bit more courage, this could have been Kidman’s ferocious farewell to many a steamy character that she has embodied in the past, especially amidst statements that such roles don’t interest her anymore. For all its sexy frills, Babygirl fails to satisfy, but it’s a stimulating ride just the same.
Explore our exclusive coverage of the 81st Venice International Film Festival here.
