[Review] Sorry, Baby: Hope You Are Well
In the film Sorry, Baby, the protagonist, Agnes (Eva Victor), is a literature professor. One day, a student in her class describes his reading experience: the book was written beautifully, but the story and the protagonist's experiences were so awful that it made him deeply uncomfortable. I believe many of us have read similar novels or seen similar films—Sorry, Baby is exactly that kind of movie.
The poster of Sorry, Baby.
The film uses a non-linear narrative to tell Agnes's story. It begins with her joyous reunion with her best friend, Lydie (Naomi Ackie). From the moment they embrace outside, the audience can feel their close bond. Through their conversations, which are at times humorous and at times intimate, their deep relationship becomes clear, perhaps reminding viewers of their own closest childhood friends. These moments might be the most lighthearted and pleasant in the film, but as their time together nears an end, Lydie tells Agnes, "don't die," and we begin to sense that something is wrong with Agnes. When Agnes reveals that her last few years have been terrible, the film begins its flashback to the past. The humor occasionally remains, but the viewer's feeling about the story shifts completely.
The story returns to their time as students, where everything seems normal. That is, until the day Agnes's academic consultation with her professor (Louis Cancelmi) moves from his office to his home. From that moment, her life changes. The camera films from a distance as Agnes enters the professor's house, then freezes on the scene outside. Time quickly passes, and Agnes leaves alone in the middle of the night. A long shot follows her back to her car and then as she drives home. Everything appears normal, but her eyes have an unsettling look. Back at home, Lydie asks her how she is, and Agnes says she doesn't know. It's only later, in the bathtub, that she slowly reveals what happened: she was sexually assaulted by the professor. The film delicately portrays the traumatic process of a woman trying to comprehend what happened to her and slowly process her thoughts after being assaulted. We don't see the event itself, but through Agnes's confession, we understand her experience and the impact it has had.
We often read about sexual assault cases in the news. Some articles detail what happened, and some don't, but from those words, we only learn about the pain of the victims during the event, not the long-term trauma they endure afterward. Sorry, Baby shows the victim's true experience, from Agnes seeking a medical examination to following up with the school administration, and later being forced to recall and recount her trauma in different settings. Despite its heavy subject, the film doesn't lose its sense of humor. In the scenes where Agnes gets examined and deals with the school, the film reflects the wildly different attitudes of people who interact with victims. Some are direct and unaffected, showing no sympathy, while others overemphasize their empathy and care, defining Agnes by her "victim" status. In reality, neither of these is what a victim truly wants. Later, in the courtroom scene, Agnes is reluctant to speak about her past. This is not only because her experience is difficult to articulate but also because she doesn't want to be labeled as a "victim" in front of strangers. She doesn't want her life to be defined by that experience, and she doesn't even want her perpetrator’s life to be defined by it. She wants to be in control of her life and identity—whether as a professor or just an ordinary person—not to continue her life solely as a "victim."
As time passes, Agnes's life seems to get better, and her career advances, but the trauma remains. When something triggers her, she falls into panic once more. In one of these moments, a strange middle-aged man (John Carroll Lynch) offers a hand, helping her with her breathing. This is my favorite scene in the entire film. Two strangers sit by the roadside, and the man, knowing Agnes is in distress, doesn't ask for details or show excessive concern. He simply treats her like a normal person, making small talk, giving her space, and making sure she's okay. The scene feels incredibly natural; the audience feels like they're sitting beside Agnes, listening to her feelings and allowing her to express herself in a comfortable, genuine way.
The film's final scene is also similar. Agnes is alone with Lydie's baby, and although she knows the baby won't understand, she tells her about life's ups and downs. The film's title, Sorry, Baby, comes from this conversation. Agnes hopes the baby understands that she might encounter hardships, but that's just life. In this movie, the "unfortunate baby" is Agnes herself. After a few years of trauma, she may not be fully recovered, and she doesn't know if she ever will be. She couldn't stop bad things from happening to her, but she hopes to be able to prevent them from happening to the baby. Even if she can't, she hopes she can be someone the baby can talk to, because she knows what kind of listener others need, and what kind of listener she needed herself. After portraying trauma, the film concludes with a sense of hope and optimism.
Eva Victor wrote, directed, and starred in this film. She perfectly brings Agnes's peculiar and wounded nature to life. The film has many monologues in which Agnes expresses her experiences and feelings, and Eva Victor delivers them with a naturalness that avoids forced sentimentality while still subtly moving the audience. As a director, she masterfully controls the film's overall tone, adding touches of humor to serious scenes and including heavy themes in lighthearted conversations. This makes the audience oscillate between laughter and tears, which is perhaps a reflection of life itself.
Trailer:
Synopsis:
Something bad happened to Agnes. But life goes on… for everyone around her, at least. When a beloved friend visits on the brink of a major milestone, Agnes starts to realize just how stuck she’s been, and begins to work through how to move forward.
Photo and Source: VVS Films