There was quite a bit of heavy breathing on screen and incredulous laughter in the room this morning, as Nicole Kidman went looking for an orgasm and her Coppa Volpi in Dutch filmmaker Halina Reijn’s third feature Babygirl. Blunt, kinky, penetratingly (sorry) honest, this racy drama would make Reijn’s fellow Dutchman Paul Verhoeven proud, and you know madame jury president Isabelle Huppert herself would have killed to play this part.
The A24 production stars Kidman as Romy, a CEO at a large corporation married to a theater director (Antonio Banderas) with two teenage daughters. Beautiful, successful and loved, Romy seems to have it all, except there’s one thing she is not getting from any of that. Something she can only find in the darker corners of the internet. When a young intern Samuel (Harris Dickinson) joins the company, he immediately picks up his boss’s secret crave like a scent. The two soon begin an affair that could cost them dearly.
Going by that summary, you might think it’s the same Fatal Attraction-type erotic thriller we’ve seen time and again (at least back when they still made those). Well yes, and no. The film can’t entirely escape the familiar genre formula. You get the initial seduction phase where impulses are resisted and boundaries tested. After the protagonists inevitably give in and start having the sex of their lives, the “home-wrecker” starts to show up unannounced at the house of the happily married. And there’s also the storyline of people at Romy’s company finding out about the affair and using it for their purposes. None of that feels particularly original. However, it’s what Reijn does with these tried and true tropes that makes Babygirl so interesting.
First of all, the film is as much about sex as it is about control. Despite (or because of) the fact that Romy is in a position of immense power, she derives the utmost pleasure from being submissive. Accordingly, Samuel’s seduction comes very much in the form of psychological manipulation. Watching him play mind games on her and her trying to figure out his intentions is like watching two hormonal animals smelling each other out, deciding when and how to pounce. Also, the film is much more focused on exploring the kinks of human sexuality and the power dynamics at play than on the thriller plotline. Although it’s mentioned a couple of times, the “stakes” of the story aren’t really Romy’s career and family, but how she – and Samuel – are affected by the affair on a personal level.
Kidman is quite simply a fearless actor. Only a few months ago she received the AFI Life Achievement Award, and here she is, licking milk from a saucer on all fours. Because great actors never judge their characters and are forever curious about hidden facets of the human condition. You know she’s not approaching this project as something scandalous or sensationalistic when she communicates – on top of the sheer orgasmic joy of being pleasured the way she needs – so much relief, shame and humiliation in one sex scene. Or the way her character falls apart telling her husband she just “wants to be normal”. There are lines like that that elicited snickers at my screening but you know what? Sex is both complex and profoundly basic. Being honest about one’s sexuality is to expose a most primal part of oneself. Kidman understood and embraced the assignment perfectly.
Finally, I love how Babygirl doesn’t punish any of its characters for seeking and enjoying (unorthodox) sex. With un-moralistic candor and plenty of zest, Reijn made an insightful, exciting film that eschews cheap payoff at every turn and rightly earned its place in the competition lineup.
Also deservedly premiering in competition is French writer/director Emmanuel Mouret’s romantic drama Three Friends. I’ve admired French filmmakers for their ability to dissect – ever so meticulously – the idea of love on numerous occasions. Here, Mouret demonstrated once again that, when it comes to crafting mature, sensitive cinema d’amour, no other culture even comes close.
As its title aptly suggests, the film is about Joan (India Hair), Alice (Camille Cottin) and Rebecca (Sara Forestier), three longtime friends who are working through issues of their love lives. Joan has fallen out of love with her partner Victor and wonders if it would be right/fair to tell him it’s over. Alice enjoys being with her husband Eric because she doesn’t love him and feels none of the burdens and expectations that come with it. Both of them are supportive of Rebecca, who is having an affair with a married man, they just don’t know that the married man is Eric. When Victor dies, new guy Thomas would enter the scene and disrupt the trigonometry between these friends again.
Now THIS is a screenplay, ladies and gentlemen. When I say I’ve barely scratched the surface of what happens in this movie – the amount of twists and turns surrounding the relationships of the three women that Mouret packs into one story is astounding. With a Woody Allen-esque light touch, he describes the coincidences that bring people together, the misunderstandings that push them apart, and the tragicomic ironies of life that befall all lovers. There is no shortage of genuinely poignant moments, especially in Joan’s storyline, where she not only has to overcome her guilt over Victor’s death to find happiness again; but learns the hard way that, even when the right person comes along, there’s no guarantee one won’t have their heart broken. The film is often funny, particularly in its examination of the extramarital affair and how it evolves to change all parties involved. The plot and tonal shifts happen in quick succession but feel wonderfully organic and wisely uncynical.
The three principal actresses are all great. Hair has the most to do and conveys Joan’s deep sorrows and cautious breaks of joy with remarkable sensitivity. There’s a scene late in the film where she thinks another character has died. The burst of emotion that nearly cripples her is truly moving to watch.
The lady seated next to me at the screening sobbed through half the film, but I actually think the most striking thing about Three Friends is how – in its uniquely French way – sober and unsentimental it is. A rewarding, if not downright cathartic watch for all who have suffered for love.
