Separated by twenty-five years, Nicole Kidman has starred in two erotic thriller films that deal with a thirst for sexual adventure, adultery and are set at least partially at Christmas. Other than that, Babygirl has very little in common with Eyes Wide Shut, and is a film that actually challenges Kidman more and delights in her powers, both as a star and within the lens of the movie.
Power in the sexual sense is the predominant theme of Babygirl, written and directed by Halina Reijn, which focuses on the masochistic urges of the extremely successful CEO of an Amazon-like conglomerate. But as someone with commanding authority over everyone in her professional life, Romy Mathis is uncontrollably drawn to submission, which leads her into a dangerous affair with a captivating intern called Samuel (Harris Dickinson), roughly thirty years her junior, who senses and exploits her cravings. But indeed, that is the very personality Romy is looking for and it ignites the tension the closer it comes to her unassuming and contented family.
There are certain …shades you may say to this movie that feel familiar, and indeed that is true of some of the broad strokes, but Reijn neither treats the sexual fetish as a novelty nor focuses on romance as any kind of a real motivation here. It is entirely lust -a crippling lust on Romy’s part, that threatens to completely overtake her life. The movie engages openly in a few moments in very relevant conversations on sexual politics, whether it is the campaign for supporting more young women in the business from Romy’s assistant Esme (Sophie Wilde), or the frank conversation she has in a private room with Samuel about consent -in which he defines it to her whilst not understanding (or consciously ignoring) its full parameters; to a moment late in the film where it has to be explained to someone that masochism is not exclusively a male fantasy and that it is antiquated to think so. These scenes can feel too literal, as though Reijn doesn’t trust her audience to understand the nature of sexual politics (and granted, maybe she is right in that). But they emphasize well that modern context in which we are to interrogate Romy and her feelings.
No judgement is passed on her initially, there is no kink shaming certainly in any scenes with her husband Jacob, a successful Broadway director played by Antonio Banderas, where she hints at a desire for more experimental intimacy -to which he seems modestly open. Except in one critical area. Not fully grasping her kink, he says he doesn’t want to say mean things to her, doesn’t want to diminish or degrade her -it would make him feel like her villain. But that is of course exactly what she craves, hence why she is drawn to a man who makes it clear he would be that.
Kidman fits the role stupendously -her longevity as a star and natural charisma has made her a particularly intimidating screen presence, which is exactly what this part calls for in a powerful woman with considerable domineering prestige. She can wield power so organically, and Kidman must on some level recognize this to harness it and subvert it so intently here. So much of the character’s true intentions and desires are communicated with subtlety -Kidman’s flustered body language, her layered expressions fully encapsulate the tormented conflict of this woman, whose particular horniness can never it seems be fully satiated. Even where the sexual encounters take place, there is discretion in the language and intensity. And Kidman can play a fiery passion behind the veneer of shame, whilst allowing it to make sense. She strikes a like balance in the genuine fear she has of being discovered and the way that fear intensifies her yearning. After Samuel takes things a step too far by coming to her home on pretense, she castigates him, but stops short of any insinuation that the affair cease.
Dickinson is a good compliment, never once playing things as though Samuel is in any way fearful of Romy -even where he abases himself, it doesn’t feel genuine. He holds his own in exercise of the power Samuel really believes he holds over Romy, in spite of her frequently citing their professional status and age gap, her not wanting to “hurt” him (as much an invitation for him to refute as a reality check for her). And Dickinson especially handles well the immature glee of Samuel’s excessive confidence -secretly ordering a glass of milk for Romy’s table at a bar for instance to see if she’ll drink it (she does). There is a clear exploitative side to Samuel, much as both parties advance on the other, giving him a kind of frightful presence Dickinson hasn’t conveyed before. And at the same time, he is able to feel like a doofus kid elsewhere in some of his impulses and relationship to other forms of authority.
The stakes of the affair are fairly strong, apart from anything to do with Romy’s reputation -which as a millionaire CEO you don’t care anything for. But her family is strikingly more humble and genuine. As is often the case, Banderas is never not charming, and their daughters, played by Esther McGregor and Vaughan Reilly, seem generally sweet if stereotypical (there’s a touch of that Bodies Bodies Bodies dismay at the current generation palpable in a couple of their scenes). It is a picture you can understand her caring about preserving, in spite of her compulsions. And you can see pretty opaquely the harm that would be caused by Romy’s transgressions coming to light.
Reijn delights in that tension, in compromising Romy more and more, and illustrates that curiously through her direction, especially of those intimate scenes. It is a provocative contrast that, even when Romy is at her most sexually vulnerable, her most submissive, she is frequently framed with visual dominance -Samuel can at times shrink from her view. Because even as her thirst escapes from her and becomes its own controlling force, the importance of and power in her pleasure continues to supersede. We see that up until the end. There is a motif in the soundtrack, erotically charged and dotted with breathy gasps, symbolic of Romy’s orgasms (you note where it doesn’t occur as much as where it does). Her sexuality cannot be escaped, and perhaps there is a warning there of the ramifications of ignoring the sexuality of older women.
On a topic like that, Reijn is perhaps less intent, but Kidman certainly inspires it, the two shaping the movies’ themes and the depths of Romy’s character in smart ways. Babygirl is more of an assertive movie than a probing one -the ideas it entertains aren’t interrogated to their fullest. And it can be a very dim movie at times, more so even than Eyes Wide Shut. But still it is fascinating and honestly thrilling. And even with power stripped from her, Nicole Kidman remains a powerhouse.
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/JordanBosch
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jordan_D_Bosch
Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/jbosch
Comments
Post a Comment