A Deep Dive into Eva Victor’s Sorry, Baby: Promising Yet Frustrating
Eva Victor’s directorial debut, Sorry, Baby, is a cinematic exploration that navigates the complex waters of trauma, language, and the inadequacies of societal responses to personal violations. While the film boasts striking insights, it often teeters between brilliance and exasperation.
The Premise: A Personal Crisis
At the heart of Sorry, Baby is Agnes, a graduate student in Maine grappling with the aftermath of an assault by her thesis adviser. The film doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of navigating trauma. Early on, a scene with a brusque doctor highlights how disconnected societal reactions can be. When he condescendingly asks Agnes, "Do you feel safe now?" it mirrors a larger truth — acknowledging an egregious wrong is far simpler than addressing it meaningfully.
Language and Its Limitations
Victor delves into the limitations of vocabulary around trauma, showcasing Agnes’s frustration with words that fail to encapsulate her experience. In one poignant moment, the term "rape" evokes flinching reactions from both Agnes and her roommate Lydie, underscoring the societal discomfort surrounding direct discussions of sexual assault. Agnes’s struggle with language becomes a metaphor for her inner turmoil, making the viewer acutely aware of the complexities surrounding consent and betrayal.
The Absurdity of Institutional Responses
The film captures the absurdity of institutional responses to such devastating incidents. College administrators, though well-meaning, offer platitudes that often feel hollow, highlighting the disconnect between understanding and action. “We know what you’re going through. We are women,” they solemnly declare, showcasing the tragic irony of their impotence in the face of actual support.
Character Dynamics: The Performance Balance
While the screenplay is laden with promise, some performances leave much to be desired. Victor, as Agnes, struggles to convey the depth of her character’s struggles, particularly in contrast to more vibrant performances from her co-stars like Naomi Ackie as Lydie. Lydie’s effervescence stands out, while Lucas Hedges, portraying Agnes’s quirky neighbor, adds layers of complexity. Agnes, at times, deflects her pain with deadpan humor but ultimately comes across as emotionally distant—a contrast that can leave the audience yearning for deeper connection.
Reflexive Themes: Dealing with Trauma
Sorry, Baby confronts its audience with a profound meditation on trauma. By repeatedly circling Agnes’s rape, the film risks inadvertently placing the attack at its center, overshadowing Agnes’s character development. Critics, like Parul Sehgal, have discussed the pitfalls of the trauma plot, and it’s here that Victor occasionally falters. While her intentions are noble, the film sometimes becomes ensnared in its own narrative web, failing to fully explore Agnes as a multifaceted individual beyond her trauma.
Conclusion: A Mixed Bag of Insight and Frustration
Ultimately, Eva Victor’s Sorry, Baby is a film that oscillates between promising exploration and frustrating execution. It poignantly examines how language can both illuminate and obscure personal experiences, particularly regarding trauma. While the film’s intentions are commendable, the execution sometimes leaves audiences searching for depth in a narrative that circles its most painful aspect instead of diving into the broader emotional landscape.
For those interested in a film that dares to challenge conventional discussions around consent and trauma, Sorry, Baby offers a thought-provoking, if uneven, experience. It showcases the navigational struggles of Agnes while prompting vital conversations about the societal lens through which we view such heinous acts. As we engage with this film, it begs the question: how do we better articulate and support those who have faced unimaginable traumas?
For more insights on films tackling serious themes, check out The Critics.
