Nicole Kidman and Harris Dickinson wrestle for power and pleasure in Babygirl Halina Reijn’s exploration into expressing desires that some still find taboo. The movie has a number of clever contrasting layers, although this arguably feels lost in the fan fair of foreplay.

Babygirl dives into the moral, and fidelity complexities of a character repressed sexual preferences for BDSM. Examining the often unspoken dynamics of desire and power. At its core is Romy (Nicole Kidman), a high-ranking executive, and Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a young intern, whose relationship is both charged and unsettling. The film plays with the inherent societal discomfort of their age difference, presenting Romy as a woman society might label “predatory” while cleverly flipping this narrative within their sexual dynamic. Romy’s dominance in her professional life contrasts sharply with her submissive role in their relationship, creating a tension that fuels the story.
One of the film’s strongest elements is its exploration of women’s struggles to express their desires—even at the top. This theme resonates particularly through the character of Esme (Sophie Wilde), Romy’s assistant, who, in a complete juxtaposition to Romy, persistently advocates for her own career progression. Esme’s ambition and repeated attempts to discuss her future are dismissed by Romy, until Esme finds herself in a position of power over her boss, turning the tables on their dynamic in a deliciously disconcerting way.
What makes Babygirl sing is its subtleties. From Romy being aroused by the sight of Samuel’s tie to her freewheeling moment of publicly drinking a glass of milk, he sends her. There is also a fantastic moment when Romy drops everything to meet Samuel in a club. For the first time, Romy isn’t worried about what everyone one around her thinks, she releases her inhibitions as she raves, sweat soaked in business wear.
These small moments are far more evocative than the film’s more explicit scenes. Even the visual contrast between Romy’s physical vulnerability (appearing naked numerous times) and Samuel’s constant coverage (always fully or partially clothed) speaks volumes about the dynamics of exposure and control.

While Babygirl shines in its quiet moments, it disappoints when it submits to “raunch-baiting.” The trailer and opening scenes tease a steamy, provocative narrative for this supposed erotic-thriller. It’s soon obvious there is nothing erotic nor thrilling about this drama. The film struggles to deliver anything truly groundbreaking about the dynamics of BDSM or power play, nor do we ever feel jeopardy for the job and family Romy risks for her relationship with Samuel.
The film also suffers from distracting subplots, including an odd backstory involving Romy’s time in a cult and her rude and quirky children. These elements detract from the central narrative, adding little to Romy’s character development or the film’s overall themes. Instead, they pull focus away from the compelling exploration of power and desire that sits at the heart of this movie.

Babygirl might stumble with its shoehorned subplots, but it shines is in its subtleties. The quiet push and pull of power amongst the characters throughout the movie won’t keep you up at night, but it will keep you engaged. There is also a clear magnetism between Kidman and Dickinson that elevates the film’s exploration of their relationship.
If you’re looking for a steamy, boundary-pushing drama, Babygirl does not fully deliver. But for those drawn to nuanced storytelling and quiet explorations of power, then you’ll find a surprising number of layers to Babygirl.
What did you think of Babygirl?




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