How far can you go to unleash your deepest desires without betraying your very essence? How do you navigate the boundaries you’ve set for yourself, crossing lines but never to the point of self-betrayal? And if you are someone in power, do you savor that power enough to relinquish it, even temporarily? These questions are fundamental—questions that demand realization, processing, and full comprehension before you take your next breath. As for “Babygirl,” it challenges your patience as an audience: will you endure until the very end or leave before it concludes? Not because it falters, but because it is so exceptional that it transcends the cinematic screen, demanding time to be fully understood.

Romy (Nicole Kidman) is a formidable CEO, a leader, and a role model revered by all. At home, she is a devoted wife to Jacob (Antonio Banderas), who loves her deeply, and they have two delightful grown children. Yet within, Romy is a woman driven by an insatiable hunger to free herself sexually—a desire that goes beyond her comprehension and known limits. When she encounters a much younger intern, Samuel (Harris Dickinson), she veers off the predictable path, diving into a vortex of relentless sexual desires. At work, she is commanding and powerful, but with Samuel, she becomes powerless and submissive, a woman consumed by the need to please him and herself—until the boundary between the ordinary and the extraordinary risks collides.

The film opens with Romy passionately making love to Jacob. As he drifts into sleep, she quietly slips away—not to send emails, but to visit a porn site to satisfy her own needs. On her way to work, nearly knocked down by a large dog, she meets Samuel, her soon-to-be intern, who calmly subdues the animal. Their first encounter ignites an undeniable spark. Samuel, however, quickly reveals himself as someone who prefers to dominate, expecting Romy to fulfill his every whim. When she asks how he calmed the dog, he replies, “I gave her a cookie.” She retorts, “Is that what you always carry?” to which he responds, “Why? Do you want some?” This dog reference is a thread throughout the narrative, capturing how a powerful woman is metaphorically brought to her knees, drinking milk from a cup like the subdued dog. This symbolism and more will keep you on the edge of your seat—a certainty that you must prepare yourself to confront.

To delve deeper into the film would risk spoiling its unsettling brilliance. Writer-director Halina Reijn has crafted the most disconcerting and provocative film of the year—meant as the highest compliment. By the time you reach the film’s midpoint, you will find yourself yearning for it to end. Why? Because Romy treads a razor-thin line, risking emotional, psychological, and physical harm to liberate herself sexually and explore the wildest fantasies within her mind. When power is stripped from her, she is reduced to the object she craves to be, savoring every moment as though her very life depended on it.

As for the performances, Nicole Kidman delivers an awe-inspiring portrayal of a woman who will stop at nothing to indulge her darkest desires, no matter the cost to herself. She submits to Samuel’s every whim, and as an audience member, you may find yourself pleading for her to stop, to not debase herself further. But what seems like degradation to us is liberation to her. Kidman masterfully walks a razor’s edge in a role that pushes beyond the point of no return, embodying Romy in a way that only Nicole Kidman could. I’ve seen countless films, but none have made me feel as uncomfortable and terrified as “Babygirl.” Antonio Banderas and Harris Dickinson are outstanding, yet there is no doubt—this is Nicole Kidman’s film, a performance unlike any other.

“Babygirl” is a film that demands courage—not just to tell this story, but to portray it. It challenges the notion of power and the willingness to surrender it, to free oneself from fear and constraint. It reveals that true power does not yield unless by choice. Every action you witness is consensual, but what happens when consent is manipulated and weaponized as a weakness? The closing scene is unforgettable—defining Romy as a strong, intelligent woman at the pinnacle of her world. The reason for her strength is something you’ll need to brace yourself for, as it unfolds in the most shocking way imaginable.

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