Courtney Howard // Film Critic
SORRY, BABY
Rated R, 1 hours and 43 minutes
Directed by: Eva Victor
Starring: Eva Victor, Naomi Ackie, Kelly McCormack, Lucas Hedges, Louis Cancelmi, John Carroll Lynch, Hettienne Park
With SORRY, BABY, first-time filmmaker Eva Victor understands that the key to healing from grief involves not just the clichéd amounts of time and distance from the traumatic situation, but also a stray kitty, a ride-or-die best friend, compassion from strangers and an exceptional sandwich. They take great craft and care with their tale about a woman carrying on with her life after her plans are derailed. Akin to the works of Kenneth Lonergan (one that vibes on a similar scale and scope as MANCHESTER BY THE SEA), Victor approaches these prickly circumstances with earnest humor, humanist character work and a sincere sense of heart. It’s genuinely one-of-a-kind.
Told in a non-linear fashion and demarcated by chapter title cards, our story begins on a girls weekend in the chilly, peaceful, remote wilderness of New England. Agnes (Victor) is welcoming her bestie Lydie (Naomi Ackie) to her home. This long-awaited reunion between the friends and former graduate school roomies is to celebrate Lydie’s pregnancy as well as get together with a few other former thesis-mates for dinner. It’s also an excuse for Lydie to check in on Agnes, who’s struggling with a horrific incident in her recent past that’s thrown her hopes, dreams and goals into disarray.
Years earlier, Agnes was sexually assaulted by her academic advisor (Louis Cancelmi) and has been dealing with the fallout since. This terrible nightmare has put her in contact with lousy responses by medical and academic professionals, lacking in genuine compassion and professionalism (establishments that frustratingly cloak themselves in faux feminism). It’s caused her to overcorrect in her daily societal interactions, selectively choosing who she’s in the company of and humorously deflecting when stuck in complex scenarios. This has, of course, has led to awkward interactions with her neighbor (Lucas Hedges) and bitchy, blunt Natasha (Kelly McCormack), amongst others. But rays of hope shine through, starting with an abandoned mewing kitty she finds in the street.
The mystery of this movie isn’t in solving what happened to Agnes, as it offers plenty of breadcrumb-scattered context clues for audiences to figure that out before the brilliantly executed 2nd act reveal. Its interest is in Agnes’ healing journey in spite of life’s curveballs pelted directly at her. She’s hit with physically and psychologically uncomfortable situations, everything from suppressing feelings surrounding her dream job’s office being the same one her perpetrator inhabited previously to surviving a spontaneous panic attack. What pulls her out of dire moments are small acts of kindness from folks like the lawyer (Hettienne Park) and a tough-talking, kind-hearted sandwich shop owner (John Carroll Lynch).
Victor deals with the delicate intimacies of this subject matter with insight, empathy and tenderness. Her bathtub confessional recounting of the incident to Lydie is laid bare in an unflinching medium shot without an ounce of self-aware vanity or ego. The symbolism of Agnes’ thesis taped to her bedroom window to block out the world doesn’t go unnoticed, but also isn’t ploddingly obtuse. As she inevitably begins to mend, those pages red-marked with grooming praise from her attacker begin to come down as if she’s shedding the past that’s held her back.
As a performer, Victor channels emotions accompanying the anguished and comedically-tinged scenarios with nuance and vulnerability. Her reactions to the slings and arrows from others, bristling at both hurtful and unintended derogatory comments, are handled with precision. Ackie also is in top-notch form, She builds internality and dimension into what could’ve been, in less capable hands, a tropey supporting role. She balances sweetness with ferocity. There’s a tactile sense of comfort exhibited between her and Victor, selling the chemistry of their relationship dynamic.
The picture’s technical craftsmanship also earns high marks. Mia Cioffi Henry’s cinematography subtly highlights character-drive and our heroine’s psyche. Static camera work and concise edits from Randi Atkins and Alex O’Flinn augment the narrative’s tonal shifts. Lia Ouyang Rusli’s compositions are touching, existing softly in the background.
Previous films (like CHEMICAL HEARTS) have used the Japanese art of Kintsugi – mending shattered pottery with gold glue to as a tool for repair and renewal – to help further their narrative and thematic contexts. There are obviously films that haven’t been as blatant, but have put the practice’s philosophies to smart application, where the hero embraces the beauty of imperfection and sees brokenness as a part of their history. SORRY, BABY is a Kintsugi Movie in the latter sense. Done with finesse and exacting skill, Victor understands there’s beauty in breakage.
Grade: A
SORRY, BABY is now playing in limited release. It opens in wide release on July 25.
