Movie Review: Babygirl

By John Corrado

Writer-director Halina Reijn’s Babygirl is a compelling modern twist on the erotic thriller, that centres around a woman with power who gets turned on by giving it up, as she embarks on an inappropriate workplace relationship with a male intern.

These fascinating power dynamics are portrayed by Nicole Kidman and Harris Dickinson, with a seductive push and pull between them. Kidman is in top form here, while Dickinson delivers a magnetic turn, with their simmering, volatile chemistry keeping us glued to the screen. It’s an intense film; sultry but sick, intoxicating yet disturbing.

It’s also a major step up for Reijn from her previous feature Bodies Bodies Bodies, which also touched on themes of power and class, but felt half-formed and basically amounted to a sick joke. The payoff and commentary in Babygirl is much, much stronger.

Kidman plays Romy Mathis, the high-powered CEO of a tech company that is involved with automating shipping facilities. Romy proverbially has it all, including two daughters (Esther McGregor and Vaughan Reilly) with her husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas). The two of them outwardly have a happy marriage. But the spark has gone out in one key area, and she is no longer sexually satisfied by him.

Romy finds that spark when she meets Samuel (Dickinson), who is brought in as part of her company’s internship program, and requests her as his mentor. The two first meet outside the building when he calms down a lunging dog, and she instantly notices how he commands control over the canine. Their workplace flirtation (“would you like to be told what to do?,” he coyly asks her during a meeting) gives way to a carnal affair.

This isn’t entirely a May-December romance nor is it fully a #MeToo drama, though it skirts the lines of both. Reijn’s screenplay gives us a lot to chew on in terms of who holds the balance of power at any given moment, as it tackles themes of female desire and shame, including the internalized shame that Romy feels around being a “powerful woman” who wants to take the submissive role in a sexual relationship. The natural provocations of Reijn’s film extend to several sexually explicit scenes.

Samuel starts manipulating Romy in subtle ways, but she also holds a position of power over him, that she is consensually letting him take away. She’s his boss, yes, but he could get her fired if he reports her to HR for sleeping with an intern. The danger is her kink. Reijn’s goal isn’t to shame her characters for their more base desires, but rather to explore what makes them tick, and she excels at dissecting this fascinating subversion of gender roles (including between Romy and other women at the company).

Kidman does fascinating work here that is, in its own way, pretty fearless in a career of risky roles (not just due to the nudity). Banderas fleshes out the bland husband role; he isn’t presented as a bad guy, but simply out of tune with his wife’s desires (or uncomfortable to perform them). Samuel is more of an enigma to the audience, but this is intentional; there is an innocence to him but also something darker, and we are drawn into Romy’s web of trying to figure out where that line ends. Dickinson portrays him as a compelling if potentially dangerous presence, commanding the screen and our attention.

In many ways, Babygirl is fashioned as a throwback to erotic thrillers of the 1990s (the presence of Kidman and Christmas trees, not to mention the New York setting, naturally calls to mind Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut). But it’s shot through a modern lens, and carries a feminine perspective. Reijn’s film casts a unique if unsettling spell, aided by several scene-setting needle drops; “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS hits hard here. Equally engaging are the conversations that you will have about it afterwards.

Film Rating: ★★★½ (out of 4)