Babygirl: The Trailer That Lied
Let’s start with the trailer. I watched it at least three times, completely hypnotized. It was sexy, mysterious, and just vague enough to make me think, Oh, this is gonna be good. Not a single frame hinted at the absolute fever dream they were about to serve us.
I was particularly excited because of Harris Dickinson—I adored him in The Darkest Minds. If you haven’t seen it, it’s one of those dystopian teen movies where kids develop supernatural powers and the government loses its mind. He played the protective, brooding love interest—the kind that makes you think, “Yeah, I’d run away with him too.” Naturally, I assumed Babygirl would give me more of that energy.
And then there’s Nicole Kidman, who I adored in Practical Magic (1998). A mix of witchy charm and ’90s nostalgia, the movie follows two sisters who must navigate love, magic, and an ancestral curse. Kidman’s free-spirited character, with her fiery hair and reckless heart, made her unforgettable. If you’re looking for a true romantic movie, please, I beg you, watch that one instead. Because Babygirl? Not even close to romance.
A romantic drama with two leads I love? What more could I ask for? Obviously, I dragged my friend to see it. She didn’t even watch the trailer, fully trusting me.
But when the credits rolled and the lights came on, she turned to me and said, “What the hell did you just drag me into?” And I? I was so confused, I didn’t even want to defend myself. We sat there for a moment, processing what we had just witnessed.
Which brings me to my next question—why on earth did they release this on December 25, 2024? Imagine unwrapping gifts, sipping hot cocoa, and then watching this. Thank god it wasn’t released on Valentine’s Day—because, honestly, that would have been even worse.
At first glance, this film sets up a dynamic that could be intriguing: a high-powered female CEO entangled in a messy affair with her much younger male intern. But somehow, instead of wielding the control and authority that comes with her position, she spends most of the film acting like she has none at all. Spoiler: he’s the one manipulating her. She’s practically begging for his attention, apologizing at every turn, and at one point, he even threatens to expose their relationship—flipping the entire power dynamic in a way that’s not just uncomfortable.
Nicole Kidman delivers a masterclass in subtle performance
But the problem, for me, was that even though Babygirl positioned itself as a psychological drama, it never delivers the emotional payoff it seems to promise. It sets up high stakes but leaves viewers waiting in vain for something truly gripping or transformative. Instead of tension or depth, it circles around its themes without ever landing, making the experience more frustrating than thrilling.
And then there were the moments so awkward, so painfully acted, that I genuinely wondered if it was meant to be satire. When she got on her feet and did that—I knew we had lost the plot.
What fascinates me more than the film itself is the five-star reviews. One person called it “Nothing better than two freaky bitches on the same frequency”—and honestly? Applause. I may not have enjoyed the movie, but I respect the people who saw something I clearly missed.
So yeah, terrible news—the Babygirl in Babygirl is not Harris Dickinson.
Nicole Kidman was, however, truly breathtaking. She looked flawless in every frame, her wardrobe polished, elegant, and perfectly curated. If nothing else, watching her carry a film with such quiet intensity was a reminder of why she remains one of the greats.
At the very least, Babygirl will get people talking. Whether that’s a good thing or not is another story.