Sorry, Baby

I am not a great fan of plot spilling in reviews, so I will try to approach this film round and round. It has so much more; other than the plot itself and one of this movie's main occurrences revolves around the fact that there is a word and a situation that no one wants to describe or call by name.

First of all, I have just adored the fact that this movie is playing with his timeline. I've like it since I first encountered it at Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" and from that day, I have a soft spot for those kind of movies, that makes us assemble the plot and it's details, according to stages from different times.

Second - this movie has some fine small scenes and conversations that doesn't feel related to the plot, but together those situations, scenes and sequences make this movie to be what it is. Small encounters and conversations that makes this movie to be so unique - sad, funny and dramatic - exactly like its main character.

It is directed and scripted by the main character and actress (Eva Victor), that I've personally never heard or watched in other movies. The other actors and actresses, that hovers above and aside are so good and contributes to shape and mold her character's...character and nature.

The puzzle that the viewer needs to assemble is composed out of several chapters, that have hinted headlines. The directing and screenwriting of several situations is just brilliant. Leaves you wonder about a situation that you can guess what it is according to details that were put on the sides of the way to the scene.

And like in each one of "Harry Potter" books and films - there is one word in this movie that is not allowed to tell or say. It can be vaguely described or hinted, but if someone will spill it out, it will make the main character confront with her emotions and feelings.

Thus, and after all being said, we understand that our protagonist should find other ways to deal with what she's been through. Sometimes it is through laughter or sarcasm and sometimes...through speaking with characters that cannot judge or understand.

Anyway...this movie has a lot of charm in it. Great acting skills and surprisingly also great writing and directing skills by a young, promising young woman, which demonstrates control over each and every one of the described skills. It deserves 7.5 stars, from my side.

Sorry, Baby is one of the most nuanced, simple yet complex telling of the effects and aftermath of a traumatic event in the life of a bright, energetic and youthful woman. Beautifully written, directed and brought to screen with a very balanced, sensitive and realistic performance by debutant Eva Victor. The movie is truly deserving of its premiere and writing award at Sundance and being the closing movie of the director's fortnight at Cannes.

Eva Victor tells her story in a non chronological manner by moving forward and backward in time through five specific chapters representing five very different years of her life. This non linear approach highlights her emotional journey and augments the story telling significantly. The story is simple and the pace of the movie is slow but it is this slow pace and focus on the lead characters subdued emotions when alone mixed with phases of elation when in the company of her best friend that makes the movie so effective.

Eva does a brilliant job channeling the emotions of disappointment, disillusionment, isolation, grief, anxiety and anger mixed with those of hope, resilience and healing. At no point it appears that she is acting and that is what makes her performance and the movie special. Don't expect any cinematic fireworks as Eva makes the audience truly experience the lead character's emotional journey through trauma. Delicate, authentic and realistic. 8/10.

Sorry, Baby is a slow burn-it takes its time to build tension, and for a while, you're not quite sure where it's going or what it's about. But that's what makes it work. The early pacing is essential; it lets you settle into the characters and truly get to know them before the tension creeps in and the stakes start to rise.

The acting is incredible-subtle, restrained, and deeply natural. It's a masterclass in quiet, grounded performance. There's a scene where the lead delivers a monologue in the tub, and it doesn't feel like she's reciting lines. We're with her in that memory. We're seeing what she saw. I got the sense that some of the film may have been improvised, but if so, it only added to the realism. The whole film has a lived-in, organic quality.

That said, a few of the smaller supporting roles toward the end didn't quite land for me and briefly took me out of the experience. And I'm still unsure what Agnes wanted-what her internal drive was. There's such beautiful artistic depth here, but I couldn't fully grasp what was pushing her forward. Then again, maybe that's the point, as hinted in the final monologue.

There's also powerful symbolism throughout. One moment that stood out was her driving, the headlights trailing behind her like a new memory that will chase her forever. Another was the way the passage of time was expressed through visual shifts, especially at the professor's home. These moments are executed with both restraint and emotional weight.

The film resists cliché. One of its most striking choices is its sense of timelessness. You can't quite place what year it's set in-there are no cell phones, the clothing is neutral, and her thesis is typed on paper rather than submitted digitally. If I had to guess, I'd say 1998. I caught a glimpse of an older New York license plate that reinforced that impression.

Ultimately, Sorry, Baby delivers a quiet but profound message about humanity: we have to be prepared to live in an imperfect world. We will get hurt-that's just part of it-but we have to find a way to keep going.

Films that explore similar themes (isolation, sexual assault, and trauma) often emphasise drama or strong emotional undercurrents to make a strong case for their cause; however, 'Sorry, Baby' takes a different approach.

The execution is remarkably realistic, free from superficiality or unnecessary exaggeration. While this grounded representation may occasionally appear dry or unstimulating, however I believe the dialogues; specifically the interactions between the characters ere able to convey deeper meanings that transcend traditional storytelling methods.

I appreciate how the nuances of an inexpressive character enduring profound pain and feelings of alienation from friends and society are effectively portrayed through Eva Victor's understated performance and as both the writer and director of the film, she clearly grasped the essence of the narrative well and executed it with sincerity and care.

My only reservation pertains to the occasional inclusion of humorous undertones, particularly given the film's serious, grim subject matter. Whilst this choice was undoubtedly intentional, I find it difficult to fully embrace it.

Eva Victor's story highlights Agnes's journey post a traumatic experience as life moves on. Agnes tries to move on but the trauma doesn't let her while she really is unable to take legal course of action. The story focuses on her emotional journey as she acknowledges the bad thing that happened to her and tries hard to live with it. The world is such, thet bad things just happen and it is never easy being a woman in the said world.

This is the kind of film that rendered me speechless. It started off casually with an overdose of the F words which helped showcase Agnes's bond with Lydie. But the 5 minute scene of her confiding to Lydie over what really happened, made me sit up. What followed next was simply terrific piece of writing and execution. Eva brought Agnes's character alive and her way of dealing with what happened was simply holding a mirror to us, the viewers. This is not the film about Agnes fighting for justice but a film about her fight to survive, move on and worse, accept the bad thing. The way she pushes herself to learn to live with it, was indeed a tough watch.

What makes the screenplay terrific is how Eva Victor tries to insert humor into the narrative. I felt sad with Agnes while having a chuckle now and then despite the grim moments. She really struggles to get on with her life and hyperventilates, which is a normal thing that one expects from her. Then the narrative shifts to showcasing that the bad thing just happens and Agnes has to live with it, leaving us the audience to accept the very thing as normal. It's infuriating to feel the helplessness of the character but also hold onto the hope of her pulling through. The rest of us are like Pete, while the countless Agnes' are made to move on with their lives and apologizing for the world we have created.