One of the most enlightening surveys conducted among younger moviegoers revealed that the precipitous decline of sexual content in films is no coincidence. Despite the high level of steamy scenes in popular streaming programs like Game of Thrones and Bridgerton, mainstream cinema is no longer willing to push boundaries when it comes to intimacy. Some of this may be due to commercial viability; sexually graphic films like Killer Joe and Blonde were slapped with the NC-17 label by the MPAA, even though violence is allowed in many R or PG-13 rated films. There’s also a lack of a middle ground when it comes to the types of films that receive a mainstream release. The idea of a middlebrow crowd-pleaser aimed at adult audiences is relatively extinct, as the industry is focused on micro-budget indies and massive blockbusters. Some smaller titles like Queer and Anora may have gotten away with more risqué content, but there’s not going to be a lot of sex in Twisters or Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.
The fact that A24’s latest drama Babygirl has marketed itself on the novelty of an erotic drama is baffling for moviegoers alive for more than a few decades. There was an era in which films like Wild Things, No Way Out, The Bedroom Window, or Body Heat were among the most discussed titles of their respective years. Babygirl could’ve easily played all the familiar beats of an age-gap romance, and it would’ve been still seen as countercultural. Thankfully, director Halina Reijn goes even further in deconstructing the role that both gender politics and economic inequity play within modern relationships.
Nicole Kidman is no stranger to this subgenre, as she received attention for her bold performance in Stanley Kubrick’s final film, Eyes Wide Shut, in which she starred opposite her then-husband, Tom Cruise. While Eyes Wide Shut cast Kidman as a timid mother, Babygirl has her playing Romy, the stone-faced CEO of an ambiguous conglomerate; she’s essentially Elizabeth Holmes with the resources of Jeff Bezos. Romy’s trapped in a relatively unexciting marriage with Antonio Banderas’ Jacob, who she admits in private moments has never been able to satisfy her. Romy’s finely-crafted approach to her regimented schedule is inverted upon a chance encounter with the young intern Samuel, played by Triangle of Sadness’ star Harris Dickinson. Samuel’s not subtle in his flirtations. The sexual dynamic that’s formed is exciting because both recognize that it’s dangerous; the revelation of their connection wouldn’t only result in a public relations nightmare, but the dissolution of their respective careers.
Most erotic tensions elicit suspense because they condemn the notion of a pursued fantasy. Fatal Attraction terrified a generation of men because it suggested that just one extramarital affair could result in a psychopathic killer that popped up to kill a pet rabbit. Babygirl leans into this concept as well; Romy has searched for someone that’s a distraction from the burden of her position, and Samuel longs for someone who’s more experienced and powerful. However, the dynamics that emerge from an employer-employee relationship complicate the scenario.
Romy’s trapped in a marriage of convenience that can’t be dissolved without a scandal. Babygirl goes to great lengths to show that beyond being the director of the company’s business affairs, Romy has also served as the primary example of outstanding character. Her family holiday events are cluttered with underlings, which results in no vulnerability being allowed. Romy’s desire to be plain and outspoken about what she wants is something that would never be possible for a woman in her position; even rumbles of a divorce could cause backlash. With Samuel, she can revel in being the complete opposite of what society sees her to be.
Comparatively, Samuel’s a young man with little chance of upward mobility. As an intern, the primary tasks he’s responsible for include getting coffee, filing paperwork, and scheduling meetings. The notion that someone in his position would ever rise through the ranks is laughable, and Samuel’s initial flirtations with Romy seem little more than an act of self-amusement. The revelation that he latched onto something sparks an absurd concept; what if he was able to cheat his way to the top? Even if Samuel was smart enough to pull this off (which he isn’t), he’d never be capable of being part of the “old guard” of CEOs that has never given a second thought to his generation.
Babygirl’s steamiest scenes aren’t shocking compared to the 1980s and 90s classics that surely inspired it, but they revel in what viewers understand isn’t a sustainable dynamic. The film’s tension is built on the concept that whatever way in which the scandal breaks, there won’t be any winners. Impressively, Reijn makes a concentrated effort to not elicit any sympathy for either character. Romy’s a flawed parent who’s cruel to her husband, and Samuel’s so incompetent at the most menial of tasks that it’s surprising he ever made it through the door. Babygirl is excruciating, but not because it’s about accessible characters in an unfortunate situation. Rather, it exemplifies the same sick glee of watching a car crash in motion.