In Sorry, Baby, a young college professor deals with the fallout of sexual assault by avoiding therapy and wearing atrocious clothing. A comedy-drama that explores the unique (or not so unique) ways trauma manifests itself and how life moves on regardless, Sorry, Baby is a well made feature debut for writer/director Eva Victor that unfortunately looks and feels like so many other indie dramas that have come before it.
Victor also stars as Agnes, a quirkily attractive postgrad whose life is upended when someone close to her violates her trust. Is it rape? She doesn’t like to use the word. Does she want him to go to jail? No, he has a kid. Can’t she just get over it? Of course not.
Victor gives a strong, offbeat performance that encapsulates the grief and trauma her character is suffering while not completely abandoning the quirky humor she was known for before “the year the bad thing happened.”
The whole thing—the acting, the writing, the humor—all operates in a word of nuance and subtly that will appeal to some audiences and repel others. Victor understandably navigates her own material well, playfully exploring the delicate subject matter with a sad smirk. Sexual assault is a serious issue, but it happens in the context of life–friends who care but don’t understand, victims who understand they were violated but aren’t able to grasp how it’s impacting them. If anything, Sorry, Baby is about that. You can see Victor poking and prodding the subject matter, almost flexing in real time on screen as she sorts out her own feelings (Sorry, Baby is fiction, but based on Victor’s personal experiences) while acknowledging that her characters’ reactions don’t always make sense, or are even hypocritical or counterproductive.
And yet, as a viewing experience, Sorry, Baby is the kind of drama that had me checking the time repeatedly. It’s well done but slow, mired by the tedious restraint that so many indie dramas seem bound by. You can see why critics and festival goers lap it up, but who whole movie seems cut from the same clothe as so many others–quirky performances, weird wardrobe choices (I get that sexual assault victims can sometimes dress a certain way to “hide their bodies,” but the entire set of characters seem beholden to awful clothing options), muted colors, and limited resolution.
It’s a shame, because there are a lot of strong moments cast throughout Sorry, Baby. The awkwardly charming relationship between Victor’s Agnes and Lucas Hedges’ Gavin cast rays of light over the affair, and a poignant scene between Agnes and a sandwich shop owner (John Carroll Lynch) stands out as well. The chemistry between Victor and Naomie Ackie brings tremendous energy, though Victor’s choice to open with their time together is questionable because she never regains that sense of vibrancy again.
Sorry, Baby is an intriguing examination of grief, trauma, and friendships, and a solid feature debut for its director. Even still, its emotional restraint hews too closely to stereotypical tropes that are often more tiresome than rewarding.
Review by Erik Samdahl.
