Sexual liberation, role-play and the fragility of American heterosexuality are subjects on full display in A24’s erotic thriller, “Babygirl,” written and directed by Halina Rejin and starring Nicole Kidman and Harris Dickinson.
The film follows Romy (Kidman), who is the CEO of a successful robotics company in New York City; a role similar to those that she must play at home, such as “ideal mother” and “ideal wife,” which carry expectations of infallible perfection. However, these layers of perfection begin to crumble when she embarks on an affair with an intern in his early twenties named Samuel (Dickinson). This labyrinth of lust unveils the consequences of suppressed desire within a capitalist patriarchy, where powerful women must carry great expectations whilst walking over the shattered glass ceiling.
Much of the film’s online discourse calls attention to how Samuel seems miscast as the dominative figure that allures Romy away from her conventional life; we never learn much about him other than that he is manipulative, irrationally angry and inconsistent with his desires. However, this is exactly what Rejin is going for in presenting Samuel as such a person; a meditation on the current state of straight Gen-Z men who cannot seem to confront their most innocent desires.
The film has gained notoriety for its steamy scenes in which Samuel and Romy embark on journeys of kaleidoscopic sexual exploration — but the two speak very little of anything else other than “ … I want you … I can’t see you again … I need to see you again.” Whenever another topic of discussion arises, it is at Romy’s initiation yet subject to Samuel’s evasion. Outside of his bold sexual banter (including tactics that sound copied from male gaze pornography), Samuel has profound trouble expressing what he wants from his relationship with Romy. But upon dissection of the state of heterosexual masculinity in America, it becomes clear why he is the way that he is.
Straight men are not taught that they need to love women when they engage in sexual encounters. Rather, some straight Gen Z men expect to execute an act beginning with the letter F and ending in complete emotional detachment. This especially applies to working-class men hoping to climb the corporate ladder, such as Samuel, who are told that their energy should be invested in capital, not intimacy.
As the film progresses, we see Samuel grapple with the discomfort he finds himself in as their relationship becomes less about the act of sex and more about what it represents — affection without obstacles, an opportunity to hold someone, an opportunity to be held by someone. This last one would be especially uncomfortable for someone who has been taught strict limitations of what men should want out of intimacy, rendering them unsure of what they want and who they are. This someone is Samuel, a representative of many young men today.
When straight young men mature amongst the failings of our current social climate, the result is a generation that is more confused about its desires than most. Through Samuel, the film showcases how urgently young straight men must feel like they are allowed to desire emotional tenderness — that is, that they are allowed to want to be “Babygirl” themselves. If you’re curious about how this internal conflict plays out within a sparked affair fueled by female liberation, then this film requires viewing.