Babygirl (2024)
Bland, blah, and boring, Babygirl has very little going for it.
I swear I’m not a negative person.
I don’t like to say a movie is bad. I don’t enjoy leaving a theater disappointed, bored, or angry.
But it seems to be the theme this year.
Which is weird—because I’ve seen some new favorites this year! Monkey Man, Conclave, and Wicked all had me buzzing. Yet more and more of my reviews have been written out of frustration rather than joy.
And now Babygirl is keeping the streak alive.
The thing is, I wanted to like Babygirl. I didn’t expect it to make any personal “Top 10” lists, but I went in with the hope of being pleasantly surprised. At the very least, I thought I’d leave feeling like I wasn’t the intended audience—something that’s happened before, and I’m okay with that!
Take Moonlight. As a white, asexual, femme-presenting person, I’m not Moonlight’s target demographic. But I can still see its value and artistry. It’s a story designed to shake its intended audience to their core, and even if it doesn’t resonate with me in the same way, I can appreciate the craft and impact.
I thought Babygirl would be in that vein—a movie that, while not for me, could still showcase mastery of the art. With Nicole Kidman and Antonio Banderas in the cast, how could it not be at least decent? While not exactly a family feature, the latest from writer/director Halina Reijn showed promise as a holiday “get away from the parents for a bit” flick. After all, I adored Bodies, Bodies, Bodies, which Reijn also directed.
Instead, I sat in the theater bored. The most interesting part of the movie was watching boomers who hadn’t read the synopsis walk out after the third sex scene.
They look so happy but very much aren’t…just like this movie looks so good—and very much isn’t.
Let’s Start With the Good
Yes, there was good here! The acting was solid. Nicole Kidman and Antonio Banderas brought their usual gravitas to their roles. Even Harris Dickinson, whose performance was awkward and stilted, felt more like a victim of poor direction than poor talent. The costuming was stellar, especially for Kidman, with her wardrobe evolving alongside her character’s unraveling. Editing? Fine. Cinematography and sound design? Also fine.
And surprisingly, the sex scenes worked. I expected to be uncomfortable—I’m not the biggest fan of explicit sex in movies—but Babygirl handled it well. The scenes weren’t titillating or exploitative; they felt raw and intimate, like we were seeing something private rather than erotic. Even the opening scene, where Kidman fakes an orgasm, was clearly meant to feel performative. It set the stage for the themes of dishonesty and repression that followed.
Frankly, it would’ve been easy for the filmmakers to lean on the sex as the movie’s main draw. Judging by the trailers and teasers, that was definitely part of the marketing strategy. So, credit where it’s due: Babygirl didn’t take the lazy route with its portrayal of kink and BDSM dynamics.
Unfortunately, it did take the lazy route with just about everything else.
At least the costumes understood the assignment.
A Story Without a Direction
Here’s the gist: Nicole Kidman plays Romy, a wildly successful CEO who’s unhappy in her marriage and life. Enter Samuel, a younger, mysterious intern who throws her world into chaos. Will she give in to her urges, or will she cling to her carefully crafted life of “normalcy”?
On paper, this story could’ve gone in several interesting directions:
A feminist (or anti-feminist!) commentary on women in power. Romy, a female CEO, is married to a man in a more traditionally feminine role as a Broadway director. The movie could’ve explored the contradictions and pressures of being a powerful woman navigating dominance and submission.
A twisted thriller. Samuel could’ve been a mastermind playing Romy all along—or maybe not even an intern at all! What if he rose to power by exploiting her desires, turning the tables on the usual “powerful CEO exploits young intern” trope?
A cautionary tale. Romy could’ve been a “babygirl” in the literal sense—a silly woman who throws away everything for a good roll in the hay.
Any of these could’ve worked. But instead of picking a lane, Babygirl tries to do all of them—and ends up doing none of them well. Romy is written to be strong and weak, confident and crumbling. Samuel is mysterious and boring, mature and childish. It’s not nuanced; it’s just indecisive.
This lack of focus doesn’t just hurt the story—it drags the whole movie down. The themes are muddled, the characters feel flat, and the pacing crawls as the film struggles to figure out what it’s even trying to say.
I’m always saddened to see good actors do their damndest to save a boring, muddled story.
A Broader Problem: “No One Said No”
And this brings me to a larger issue I’ve seen in movies this year: no one seems to be saying “no” anymore.
This problem isn’t unique to Babygirl. I’ve seen it in Immaculate, Ezra, and Megalopolis, too. These movies are bad because they feel unchecked—like no one in the creative process had the backbone to say, “This isn’t working.” The result is messy, unfocused projects that waste their potential.
In Babygirl, it’s painfully obvious. There’s no clear direction, no thematic backbone, and no one reining in the sprawling ideas that ultimately go nowhere.
Can I Sink My Teeth Into It?
Babygirl is like a cheap box of fruit-creme chocolates: bland, forgettable, and vaguely disappointing. It’s the kind of thing you grab at the last minute when you’ve forgotten Valentine’s Day for the fifth year in a row and need something to show you kind of, maybe, still care.
Not exactly satisfying, but hey, it’s technically chocolate.
