I’ve said for years that Nicole Kidman is one of our last weirdos—she’s fearless in her roles and the stories she selects and embraces subject matter that may be considered taboo. With each performance, Kidman continues cementing herself as one of the greats, and her work in Halina Reijn’s seductively melancholic sophomore feature Babygirl is no different.

In theory, Romy (Kidman) should be content. She’s a mighty CEO at a successful company with a functional family. Yet, something is missing. Reijn throws the audience right into the steamy deep end and opens on seemingly hot and heavy sex between Romy and her husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas). Romy excuses herself to another room where she puts on porn and finishes the job in what we can deduce has become a routine for her.

Reijn expertly presents the many pieces that comprise Babygirl in that brief cold open. This is a movie about desire and pleasure with little time to dwell on the stigma that attaches itself to darker, kinkier impulses. While Reijn embraces the eroticism that comes with desire, she goes much deeper than that; Babygirl is also a film about connection and communication. 

Enter Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a younger intern who offsets Romy’s day-to-day with his brash and confident energy. He’s unafraid to question Romy and approaches her as if they are equals. As they interact more, Romy realizes Samuel reads her like an open book and almost understands her impulses more clearly than she does.

Romy and Samuel’s intimate moments leap off the screen thanks to Kidman’s go-for-broke performance. She fearlessly throws herself into these scenarios and wears Romy’s vulnerability like a second skin. We can see the inner turmoil emerging from self-discovery amidst a forbidden affair clear as day. Kidman oscillates between pleasure and shame sometimes in the same breath. 

Her performance is only elevated by Dickinson’s ever-increasing star power. He infuses each scene with quiet charisma allowing the audience to fold with each “good girl” he utters. His eyes flicker with a silent knowing as he peels back every layer Kidman has buried Romy beneath. While this experience is an awakening for Romy, it’s an exhilarating game for Samuel. Dickinson’s ability to believably turn on a dime from coy and suave to a suffocating, ticking time bomb makes Samuel equally watchable and captivating as Romy without taking away from her journey.

While both are incredible individually, the magic happens when they’re alone together. Romy and Samuel’s dynamic is complicated and confusing but Kidman and Dickinson create palpable electricity that pulls the audience along for the ride regardless of complications. It feels like watching an intricate dance as they push and pull with each other. It’s mercurial but meticulous. Each grapples in real time with how much or how little they want to take and give away from the other.

Babygirl’s secret weapon, however, is Banderas. Amid the erotic exploration, his work as Jacob infuses the film with a melancholic ache. Jacob’s arc runs in the opposite direction of Romy’s liberation and self-discovery as he steadily learns that he doesn’t understand his wife as deeply as he thought. Even with just silent glances, his love for his wife pulses through every scene together only adding to the devastation. Their disconnect isn’t due to a lack of love or effort, but Reijn dives into the murky waters headfirst and shows that isn’t always enough. Sometimes all the love in the world cannot make up for a lack of connection.

The first time we see Romy and Jacob together, she is fully in command of the situation. Jacob, utterly infatuated with his wife, leaves pleased and thinking Romy feels similarly. He has no clue that she continuously fakes it. When Romy is alone, the porn she consumes is quite different than what we just witnessed; she craves an entirely different fantasy. Yet, she is unable to fully give in to the fantasy and (as we see repeatedly) unable to articulate that to her spouse. 

Reijn paints Babygirl with complicated, intricate shades. The ideas of desire, pleasure, and connection merge into dynamic, thrilling moments that sing. Reijn molds a powerful, independent woman craving a more submissive role when it comes to intimacy. The very thing that pleasures Romy also stirs up some shame; however, Reijn dismisses the notion that these needs are shameful or anti-feminist. In tackling connection, she steers away from a typical route and presents the audience with a couple that is madly in love with each other but can’t quite fulfill one-half of the partnership’s needs. 

Unfortunately, some of her bold strokes regarding power dynamics end up overpowered and fade to the background. We’re presented with interesting ideas regarding the power dynamics, especially in the third act when Romy’s assistant Esme (Sophia Wilde) activates a bit more as a character. However, it feels like Reijn explores the dynamics in circles and never fleshes them out to a fulfilling culmination. Despite her intricate web getting tangled, Reijn pushes through with sizzling confidence. Everything feels purposeful, intentional, and confident.

On a technical level, Babygirl wants the audience to indulge in the fantasy as much as Romy. Jasper Wolf’s hazy cinematography allows you to melt into the story and get swept away in the torrid affair. Meanwhile, Cristóbal Tapia de Veer delivers an atmospheric, Oscar-worthy score. What starts as an elegant, orchestral feast straight out of a fantasy soon descends into a pulsing, breathy sonic landscape tinged with a sense of foreboding. He teeters back and forth masterfully, crafting subtle uncertainty surrounding our leads’ trist. 

With Babygirl, it’s important to have expectations properly set. Much of the film’s marketing has crafted the image of an erotic thriller of yesteryear. While it embraces eroticism, Babygirl desires to be and is much more. Reijn plays with awakenings, rebirths, suppression, and melancholic revelations to deliver audiences something so nuanced and singular. 

Similar to her 2022 debut feature Bodies Bodies Bodies, Babygirl dismantles facades and unearths authenticity. Both films require a closer look and, depending on the viewer, multiple looks. Despite similar thematic throughlines, Reijn crafts something that feels like a hard pivot away from Bodies that stands on its own. It’s exhilarating to watch someone so confident in their vision only two films in. 

Babygirl has flaws, but it’s a bold ride that solidifies Reijn as a talent to be reckoned with owning her power and vision. And, thanks to some of the best performances of Kidman, Dickinson, and Banderas’ careers, Babygirl digs beneath your skin and will undoubtedly linger all holiday season long.

Review Courtesy of Adam Patla

Image Courtesy of A24 via Rotten Tomatoes