Babygirl

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High-powered CEO Romy Mathis (Nicole Kidman) has an enviable reputation in an industry that is primarily dominated by men. She has reached her current position by taking risks and leaving a mark in the computer automation market, at the helm of a company that serves as an innovator and leader in their field. Her husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas) is in the performing arts, serving as director of a theater group. Together with their two daughters, they seem to be the portrait of a happy family. Or so they thought. Romy has certain fantasies and sexual desires that are left unfulfilled by her husband, a gap that is later filled by a daring intern named Samuel (Harris Dickinson) who senses, early on, his mentor's eccentric quirk of craving to be told what to do. What unfolds between them is a game of power, of giving and taking. In the end, who will emerge victorious?

I recall a symphony of scandalized backlash to the tune of, “What the fvck is Nicole Kidman doing with her career?” when Babygirl was released. The criticism grew even more when she was awarded the Volpi Cup at Venice for the same performance. To be fair, erotic thrillers like this are no stranger to Kidman’s filmography. She has been portraying such roles since the heydays of her youth in Hollywood in the 90’s. And so we wonder, why are all of these critics crying now? What is so scandalous about Kidman’s Romy being fingered on screen multiple times by someone half her age? Are women in their 50’s not supposed to be having sex anymore?

Don’t ask me. I do not make the rules. Sex is an inalienable part of being a human being. Everyone is having sex. Your teenager is probably having sex. Perhaps your grandma is boinking some random grandpa at her care home. Or another grandma, who knows! The bottomline is: sex sells. And since it does, it is a valuable commodity that has to be regulated by those who are in power, whether politically or economically. We’ve heard countless narratives, whether true to life or fictional, about individuals who go crazy or commit crimes and immoral acts because of sex. This is why sex is often employed as a plot device to depict power dynamics.

As for Babygirl, this very display of power dynamics is rather interesting. Sexual harassment and abuse are common in the workplace regardless which industry you belong to. Those who hold power can get away with it because those who don’t have the same power usually don’t have what it takes to defend themselves and, thus, just accept their being a victim. That position of power, usually the CEO’s, has always been reserved for men. In Babygirl, they switch the genders. This might be a long shot, but this particular subplot reminds you of a similar film released a few years ago: Cate Blanchett’s Tár.

The difference between Tár and Babygirl is Kidman never really got enough mileage for another Oscar best actress nomination outside of Venice. The narratives also diverge because while Lydia Tár was depicted as a legit abuser, Romy Mathis ended up being the victim despite wielding that same power, falling for her subordinate. Once again, it is an interesting view on how sex can be used as an effective equalizer. When it comes to your desires, sometimes you agree to give away the power you hold, momentarily, repeatedly, so you could fulfill those wild fantasies, regardless what position is.

And so, the final verdict, is Babygirl worth it or is this just a sexualized older woman fantasy narrative that failed to secure a slot on PornHub? It depends on how you look at it. If you focus on the sex and dismiss the film as a mere excuse to indulge the sexual fantasies of an older demographic, then it will disappoint you. If you look beyond that, though, and treat the film as a case study on power dynamics through sex as an activity as well as through gender roles and expectations, then you will enjoy the film. Viewed from that perspective, the sex scenes even fade away as a mere plot device to prove a point.