Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 43 minutes, Director – Eva Victor
College professor Agnes (Eva Victor) deals with the trauma of being sexually assaulted by her former advisor (Louis Cancelmi), learning to do so at her own pace.
Agnes (Eva Victor) hugs her best friend Lydie (Naomi Ackie) goodbye. Sitting in her car, just about to drive off, Lydie checks that her friend is going to be alright. Hugging herself, not just because of the cold, Agnes assures her that she’ll be fine, promising that she’s not going to die. She doesn’t entirely believe herself.
She gives a similar hesitant look at a reunion dinner of old college friends, when their advisor Preston Decker (Louis Cancelmi) is brought up. It’s clear that something bad happened in her past, but nothing is explicitly mentioned. As we flashback in time to a couple of years prior Agnes is an English student at college, living in a small house with Lydie – the same house she lives in alone years later, now with a number of window panels covered up with bits of paper. Each scene involving Decker is one of unease and tension, we know something is coming and when it does we don’t see it. The camera simply sits outside his house as day shifts to night in sudden jolts of time and fading light before a shaky tracking shot follows Agnes pacing to her car, scared and trying to comprehend what’s happened.
From there, as chapter titles introduce us to the events of the following years, the film follows Agnes as she continues to try and comprehend and come to terms with what happened – the title of the year of the assault being ‘the year with the bad thing’. Victor, who also makes her feature debut as writer and director, is sensational in the lead role. So much of the confusion, fear, discomfort, pain and more is hidden behind their eyes as they try to move forward in a world where little empathy is displayed by officials, particularly the heads of the college.
Yet, there’s a consistent sense of hope on display, too. Not just in her adoption of a kitten but in my personal favourite chapter, ‘the year with the good sandwich’ – a name which already inspires a glimmer of optimism – a brief turn from John Carroll Lynch provides one of the biggest pushes of understanding. By this point it’s been three years since the bad thing. It seems like a long time but at the same time it’s not a lot of time. There’s a warmth to the moment that’s allowed to be dwelled rather than basked in. A moment of comfort that works well alongside the chuckles which crop up along the way.
Victor has ensured that there are moments of lightness levity throughout their film, each in naturalistic fashion. There are moments of amusing awkwardness as Agnes anxiously approaches her neighbour, Gavin (Lucas Hedges), asking if he has any lighter fluid. There are more similarly-toned encounters between the pair as a relationship of sorts begins to form between them. Yet, the events are still wrapped up in a sense of mixed negative emotions spawned from the tragedy. It helps to keep a consistency even with the various tones at play as Agnes tries to look after herself while keeping a number of things internalised, a scene involving being asked questions about being the victim of a crime after being called for jury duty is filled with empathy and multiple forms of restraint. Building up to create something all the more powerful.
As Agnes and Lydie laugh, joke and reminisce for the opening few minutes of the film I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Then, once the first signs of discomfort in the face of remembering tragedy appear everything properly kicks off. By the end of the film I was forced to sit throughout the credits and for a moment or two beyond, in silence, just to think about what I’d just seen and give it the time it needed and deserved to sink in.
A few days later and I’m still allowing it to do so. Sorry, Baby is a complex, layered and empathetic film about coming to terms with tragedy at your own pace. Allowing forms of self care, acknowledging points of comfort and kindness. So much of which is conveyed alongside the trauma and struggle conveyed in Eva Victor’s stunning leading performance, alongside strong direction and screenplay equally filled with quieter moments which let the hidden emotions speak for themselves. Whether viewed as a debut or not, this is a wonderfully impactful look at coming to terms with tragedy, and the barriers and understanding that appear along the way.
One of the best films of the year, Sorry, Baby features a naturalistic blend of stirring emotions with occasional chuckles as Eva Victor’s stunningly performed central character comes to terms with tragedy at her own pace. Allow time afterwards for it to sink in, like the film it’ll have just as much of a profoundly emotional push.
Just A Little Bit Random 