movie review
BABYGIRL
Running time: 114 minutes. Not yet rated. In theaters Dec. 25.
Hooking up with the boss, and the inevitable trouble it causes, is a mainstay of entertainment, from “Bridget Jones’ Diary” to “Grey’s Anatomy.”
But rarely is that workplace taboo as scintillating as it is in “Babygirl,” a captivating psychological drama starring Nicole Kidman that had its North American premiere Tuesday at the Toronto International Film Festival.
It’s hard to imagine audiences being more glued to another movie this year, so sexy and stirring the story is from start to finish.
Where the steamy flick, written and directed by Halina Reijn, diverges from the usual C-suite game of cat and mouse is that, this time, the claws belong to the much younger male intern.
He’s Samuel, played by 28-year-old Harris Dickinson, the actor who was a dish as a vacuous model in “Triangle of Sadness.” Assertive and alluring, he goes to work for a Manhattan robotics company lorded over by Romy, played by 57-year-old Nicole Kidman.
I’m no mathematician, but…
Romy, constantly emailing, has a doting theater director husband named Jacob (Antonio Banderas), who, unbeknownst to him, can’t please her in the bedroom. After their perfunctory evening activities, she scurries off to watch porn in secret.
Back at the office, go-getter Samuel — go-get-her, really — brazenly requests that the company CEO be his mentor in the internship program, which means one private 10-minute meeting a week.
At the first sit-down, which she reluctantly attends, he grabs control immediately.
“You shouldn’t drink coffee after lunch,” he sternly and softly instructs his employer like a parent. “How many did you have today?”
“Seven,” she replies.
The topic, ahem, does not stay on beverages for very long.
That explosive encounter begins an affair with no traditional romance or affection. Samuel and Romy don’t laugh, skip in the field or grab candlelight dinners. They’re in it for the sex, yes, but really the turn on for the dirty duo is about the power dynamic.
For instance, before their dalliance really heats up, Samuel anonymously sends Romy a glass of milk at a bar. He glares at her as she gulps the whole thing down. Then, he walks by and whispers, “Good girl.”
Romy, a corporate titan by day, soon discovers she’d rather be subservient when the sun goes down. I’d reckon that’s true of a lot of powerful people. Perceptive Samuel can sense this dormant desire, and pounces.
Kidman and Dickinson, age gap be damned, are vinegar and baking soda.
Together they smolder with an unspoken awareness of the dangerous path their characters are embarking on. Theirs is the kind of chemistry that doesn’t need to develop onscreen — it’s there from the moment Romy and Samuel meet.
British Dickinson, who I nearly wrote off when he played the prince in the terrible “Maleficent: Mistress of Evil” with Angelina Jolie, has carved a niche in cool, edgy projects that are that rare combo of popular and prestigious. His performance here, scary and siren-like, is a smash.
And Kidman is a natural fit for Romy, who starts out proper and rigid and then gets wilder — showing up unannounced and drenched in rain at Samuel’s bartending job and dancing at a club.
Reijn, who has another scrumptious winner after “Bodies Bodies Bodies,” doesn’t decide whether we should be happy for Romy or not, or if what the exec is doing is liberating or reckless.
Once the film is widely released, I could see it becoming a controversial object of scorn for scolds. By most modern metrics, the relationship here is textbook #MeToo. Reprehensible, cancelable, black and white.
“Babygirl,” however, suggests there is a gray area. Power comes in many forms, the movie seems to say, but doesn’t always come with a corner office.