Eva Victor’s Sorry, Baby isn’t an easy movie to watch, nor is it an easy movie to write about. Because even if you haven’t experienced the same terrors as Victor’s character, Agnes, the film is such a profoundly transparent account of pain and recovery that it’s impossible to believe it’s a debut. It cements Victor as an incredible writer with immense talent, but it also affirms that she’s an excellent actress, too.
Even if you can’t relate to Agnes, we can all understand what it’s like to experience something so painful that the person we are before and after drastically differs. We can understand periods where there’s simply no one to talk to or share our agony with. And despite everything, no matter how many years have passed, these harrowing experiences can continue to haunt and torment us. They can push and probe when we least expect them to, and we can lose ourselves again and again and again.
Given the context material, the film could’ve been too heavy and too heartbreaking. It’s certainly one that can be triggering for many viewers if sexual assault is something they generally cannot stomach in media, but Victor’s approach to the character journey is so raw and so human that there are very few words for it.
It’s unfortunate that the world we live in is one where bad things will continue to happen. No matter how many movies are made or how many books are written as cautionary tales, the corruption and cruelty in this world will never end. We’re never going to wake up in a utopia where women are treated with the respect they deserve or where there’s justice regarding the unlawful people who bring harm to others. The world is too dark and too bleak.
But there’s hope in the idea that women like Agnes can make a small difference in the lives that come after. The entirety of Sorry, Baby as a title and Victor’s performance in that final scene as she’s talking to baby Jane is so integral to the entire story that the hope in those moments is transcendent. It’s easy to believe, even for a moment, that if there’s someone like Agnes who’s willing to listen, then maybe we’ll be okay after the bad things happen. And sometimes, that’s all we need to hear. As saccharine as it sounds, we need the reminder and the hope.
Visually, Sorry, Baby feels so real that it may be another factor that can affect more sensitive viewers. The moments where it feels like we’re simply intruding on Agnes’ life are deeply moving, but deeply uncomfortable, making the entire film that much more compelling in its structure. And the screenplay is so moving, so warm that it’s stunning how many layers Victor packs into every word. From the pacing to every quiet moment, it’s a story that demands we sit with the pain and suffering. It’s a story that asks us to feel hope. It’s a story that reminds us how it’s okay not to be okay.
Sorry, Baby is now streaming on HBO Max.
First Featured Image Credit: ©A24