Why did Nicole Kidman want to be “Babygirl”? In an Actors on Actors conversation with Zendaya, Nicole Kidman commented: “As soon as I heard it was called ‘Babygirl,’ I thought, ‘I’m in.’” Historically, Kidman has been in films with a strong philosophical or intellectual appeal, often choosing projects that prioritize powerful ideas over polished scripts or strong direction. Similarly, Kidman found herself irresistibly drawn to the core essence of “Babygirl.” Director and writer Halina Reijn was equally fascinated by the story of a woman who hadn’t orgasmed in 25 years. She describes the film as embodying her deepest, most shameful sexual fantasies. Romy (Kidman) boldly follows desires Reijn could not bravely embrace. Given the deep connection both the director and the lead actress have with the title, what’s the spirit of “Babygirl”?
The term “babygirl” defines those with a submissive, vulnerable, and sensitive character — someone who’s adorable but timid. After watching “Babygirl,” it’s clear that the term perfectly unifies themes of shame, self-acceptance, and indulgence. The name “Babygirl” invites a protective instinct towards those who exemplify it. In this case, Romy, the CEO of a robotic process automation company, perfectly captures the term’s essence. Despite her professional success, Romy feels unfulfilled by her husband, Jacob (Antonio Banderas), and Samuel (Harris Dickinson) first walks into Romy’s life when she encounters him controlling an aggressive dog on the street. We immediately sense her attraction to his dominance as well as her shock at the intensity of her arousal.
As the audience, we suspect that Romy lacks sexual experience, or at least is unaware of her sexual preferences. Despite a nineteen-year marriage and an active relationship with Jacob, her sex life remains deeply unsatisfying. In the first half of the film, the audience experiences Romy’s process of sexual exploration alongside her. For example, the opening scene shows Romy experiencing an exaggerated orgasm while having sex with Jacob. Then, she quickly excuses herself to a separate room, where she masturbates. The scene is a bit confusing and might lead the audience to believe she’s sex-obsessed. But, Reijn illustrates the depth of Romy’s dissatisfaction — she has become an expert at faking orgasms to please her husband. In effect, she tricks the audience, but her intense yearning for Sam proves how desperately she needs this form of sexual satisfaction she doesn’t truly understand.
Samuel helps her understand these desires. After the dog incident, Romy realizes that he’s among her company’s new wave of interns. From their first interaction, it’s clear that his personality is not a basic dominant. Yes, he enjoys control, but his relationship with Romy isn’t to satisfy a desire for power. Rather, he wants to provide her with what she needs. In an intimate scene, she tells Sam that he “sense[s] things about people. What they want. What they need.” What Romy so desperately needed was to understand and accept her sexual desires, and he helped her cultivate this mindset.
Romy substantially builds self-acceptance throughout the film’s runtime. By the end, she embraces parts of her identity that she once felt ashamed of. Romy comes to realize that she derives pleasure from her partners telling her what to do or controlling and subjugating her. In the past, she tried extensive psychotherapy to investigate childhood memories that led to her innate urges. Her attempts were to no avail. Still, Romy couldn’t find a direct answer on why she has such vivid fantasies, or to define who she was outside of her professional life. Ultimately, it was the unresolved shame and intense sexual frustration that numbs her personality and forms the timid people-pleasing Romy. Even when she finally confesses to Jacob that she hasn’t orgasmed with a partner in nineteen years (the exact length of their relationship), Romy redacts her statement after seeing his reaction.
This recurring pattern – of making a decision, losing her composure, and eventually withholding the entire truth – reveals the difficulty of accepting a new version of herself, especially after five decades of damping her inhibitions. It might be easier for younger generations, like Sam, to adapt to sexually experimental roles. Sam even admits to having no experience playing a dominant role but learns as he goes along. For Romy, it’s harder to shed all reins of control and actively humiliate herself in extreme submission. In particular, she finds it difficult to act like a dog and allow Sam to pet her. In another exchange, she struggles with completely stripping in front of Sam’s judging eyes. Given years of opposite conditioning, Romy finds this level of intense trust and vulnerability hard to adjust to.
By the end of the film, the characters gain discernible identities. Acting as her protector, Sam calls Romy his “babygirl.” In the aftermath of Romy’s intense emotional discoveries, Sam holds her and whispers words of affirmation until she believes them. As she falls from the cliff of consuming authenticity, he consistently catches her. She throws herself completely to her desires, devoid of all rational opposition. Through her fragility, Romy becomes relatable: we can’t help but pity and sympathize with her. Romy’s physical journey with Sam shows awkward play-fights and unsure positions. We feel her hesitation to comply with Sam’s requests, and subsequent surrender when she finally gives in.Perhaps the film depicts this exchange of power most clearly when Sam dances shirtless to Father Figure by George Michael. Michael sings: “I will be your father figure / put your tiny hand in mine / I will be your preacher, teacher / anything you have in mind” In a sense, Sam teaches Romy. He directs and pressures her into accepting her most shameful desires. He allows her to become her authentic self, void of hidden urges or hesitant acceptance. She gains control of every part of herself. She’s exceptionally whole. It’s undeniably enticing and makes us desire Romy’s completeness. We, like Nicole Kidman, “crave” this role. We crave to be someone’s – anyone’s – babygirl.
