Babygirl is the third feature by Halina Reijn. Like in her excellent debut, Instinct, it is co-produced by the company Man Up, which she founded together with Carice van Houten. The purpose of Man Up was explained in this way: “to create films and television drama with high current value and relevance told from a female perspective. To explore darker, edgy stories that, through shame or fear, often remain untold. Quality, artistic integrity and openness to their audiences define the productions.” That was an apt description of Instinct, which starred van Houten in a gutsy performance. Not least refreshing is the fact that we are not dealing with the ubiquitous “strong woman” trope, but rather an honest depiction of women.

Honesty is prone to lead to dark places if you follow it all the way through. Even if one doesn’t have to resort to the extremism of Ibsen’s Brand, it’s evident that the further a work of art dares to drill into the painful parts of the human mind, the more rewarding it might be. The storyline of Babygirl is not unique. There have been several similar stories in later years, such as Queen of Hearts (Dronningen 2019). The synopsis reads as follows: “A high-powered CEO puts her career and family on the line when she begins a torrid affair with her much younger intern.” However, the film goes beyond the stereotypes in such films or, at least, sidesteps them.

Is there a Babygirl?

Romy (Nicole Kidman) is the CEO of a company called Tensile, which specialises in automation. She is married to Jacob (Antonio Banderas), and the very first scene is a sexual act between them. When they are done, Romy does what the wife in A Good Lawyer’s Wife (Baramnan gajok 2003 does: she starts masturbating. The major difference between the two is that the wife (the marvellous Moon So-ri) in Im Sang-Soo’s film does it openly in front of her husband, while Romy goes to another room and gets off thanks to a porn video featuring an obedient girl.

If Romy is not the master of her domain, she is still the boss. On her way to work next morning, she is almost attacked by a dog but is saved by Samuel (Harris Dickinson), who gains control of the animal using a cookie. Later, it turns out that he is one of the new interns at her office. He selects her as his mentor, and things start rolling from there. Samuel starts teasing her, not least about submissive roleplay, and given the aforementioned video, we are not surprised that she’s game. He constantly tells her to “be honest”. In a way, the lack of surprises goes through the whole film, which uses highly recognisable building blocks in its design.

Kidman Up

Samuel makes Romy uncomfortable by pointing out the workplace dynamics; check. Samuel “unexpectedly” turns up in Romy’s home; check. There are several sequences where the spectator will know in advance what will occur but not precisely how it will end up. That goes for the clever script by Reijn but even more for the cinematic style employed. Jasper Wolf has lensed all the director’s films, and the cinematography is never less than arresting, not only in the sex scenes but in more pedestrian scenes as well. The film looks much better than it sounds on paper. Not that there’s anything wrong with the sound design or the music by Cristobal Tapia de Veer, either.

All those elements render the film cinematically engrossing, and it’s all held together, or spliced apart, by the congenial editing by Matthew Hannam, who is working with Reijn for the first time. The scenes are typically cut short, and the entire film has a perfect rhythm, which accounts for its success on so many fronts. When it comes to the acting, the film stands or falls with Nicole Kidman. There are similarities to her roles in Birth (2004) and The Killing of the Sacred Deer (2017). The former was unfavourably received in Venice, but it might be Kidman’s best role ever. A comparison with the latter highlights, once again, how trite and superficial Lanthimos’ films are.

Botox, botox, botox

Kidman throws herself into the part and is not afraid to dig under its surface. However, Romy’s surface also receives comments. Her children deride her for her overuse of Botox, an irony that Kidman is clearly aware of but seems to take in stride. She might not match van Houten’s performance in Instinct, but it’s close enough. Antonio Banderas’ Jacob is a theatre director and rehearses Hedda Gabler. For us who suffer from revel in Ibsen fever, the enjoyment of the film is enhanced even further. Reijn commented that she wanted an attractive man to avoid the cliché of the boring old husband.

Antonio Banderas’ part resembles how Coline Serreau used Sami Frey in Pourquoi Pas! (1977). An actor who used to play a seducer is now a more subdued, homey man. Harris Dickinson might not be the most exciting actor, but he is reasonably solid in his role. There is a questionable dialogue towards the end of the film, but it might be interpreted as Samuel not knowing as much about women as he thinks he does. An unnecessary side plot with Romy’s assistant seems to come from another film, maybe Disclosure (1994) with Demi Moore. Talking about Moore, it is even more heartening to see an intelligent film about a female agenda after the abysmal The Substance at Cannes.

Babycall is a success on most levels and an obvious price contender, not least because Isabelle Huppert is the jury president for this year’s Venice Film Festival. Halina Reijn shows that Bodies, Bodies, Bodies was a temporary step down in quality; maybe it worked as a calling card into the US market. I will eagerly await her next project, hopefully, once again produced by Man Up.