Rewriting the Erotic Thriller with Babygirl

When it comes to flipping the script on cinematic genres, Halina Reijn isn't just playing the game; she's making new rules. With the 2024 film Babygirl, Reijn takes the familiar landscape of erotic thrillers and stamps it with her distinctive flair. Who'da thought that a headstrong woman at the top of her corporate game, portrayed with the illustrious depth of Nicole Kidman, would find her personal liberation not in further success, but in vulnerability?

Aren’t You Tired of Being a ‘Girlboss’?

We’re used to seeing powerful men entangled in steamy office affairs, but Reijn’s take is refreshingly unexpected. Babygirl asks its titular character—and by extension, us—“Aren’t you tired of being a ‘Girlboss’? Don’t you just wanna go ‘Babygirl’?” This isn’t about losing control; it’s about finding it elsewhere, perhaps in places tradition tells us not to look.

Kidman is Romy Mathis, a CEO who has it all—or does she? Her inner conflict is palpable, making the character incredibly relatable. Romy’s got the picture-perfect life: career, family, the works. Yet, there’s a dissonance, a hollowness left unaddressed until Harris Dickinson’s Samuel enters the scene. Dickinson is compelling as the bold intern, whose slightly neurodivergent charm upends Romy's orderly universe. You can feel the electricity each time they're on screen together, turning a boardroom into a battleground for desire.

The Complex Dance of Control

What’s particularly alluring about Babygirl is how it defies simplistic moralizing. Instead of punishing its protagonist for breaking social taboos, Reijn explores the liberation that Romy finds in freeing herself from those very shackles. It’s a masterclass in role reversal that leaves you questioning your own sense of power and submission. These themes are woven seamlessly into the narrative, with Reijn deliberately forsaking the usual easy beats most films in this genre opt for.

Should we talk about the supporting cast? Sure! Antonio Banderas as Romy’s husband, Jacob, is both suave and depressingly oblivious, trusting that their love exists in its stable, predictable format. And Sophie Wilde? Her small role as Romy's assistant might feel like a footnote, but it shouts volumes in its brevity—a microcosm of the film’s nuanced understanding of modern relationships.

More Than Just Skin-Deep

Here’s the thing: Babygirl triumphs in making sex a point of conversation rather than just a spectacle. Reijn distills the raw essence of human interaction and puts it out there for analysis, stripping gaze-driven eroticism to reveal something far more interesting—connection and exploration. It pokes at the conservative seams of today's cinema, questioning whether we've traded too much spice for safety.

When Kidman closes one of many unforgettable scenes—a calculated balance of authority and playful subservience—Reijn makes you wonder who’s really in charge. Kidman inhabits this role with a multifaceted brilliance that defies easy categorization. Each time Romy submits, it’s with agency and intent, the camera capturing an altogether different kind of power.

Final Thoughts

Babygirl isn’t just a film; it’s a critique, a subversion, and an invitation to rethink societal norms. It's a cinematic rebellion packed with emotional wisdom and yes—plenty of steamy unfolding along the way. It reminds us not just of the magic of cinema, but of the magic of exploring ourselves honestly, whether that’s in the office, at home, or behind closed doors. This isn’t just another A24 production; this is a high note in the genre playlist. You're in for a treat.