Sorry, Baby

Eva Victor’s feature debut as a writer/director/leading star is a breath of fresh air for many reasons, particularly its warm and humorous approach to a very serious subject. Sexual assault has been the topic of an increasing amount of movies of late, and this might be one of the few whose main interest completely lies in what happens next, rather than the circumstances around the assault itself. "Sorry, Baby" is very much the story of a woman trying to move on from a "Bad Thing" (as she calls it), but the "Bad Thing" also isn't the defining event in her life. Making the assault just one of the many struggles she tries to navigate in order to grow as an adult almost feels like a novel concept, and it's one that helps to make "Sorry, Baby" feel like something special.

Agnes (Victor) is a young English professor at a college in rural New England, and as the opening scenes reveal her joyfully receiving a visit from best friend Lydie (Naomi Ackie), we also slowly start to feel the edges of the Bad Thing. Lydie is concerned that Agnes is still living in the same house they lived in together in grad school; she is teaching in the same program and even has the same office that He had, her life seemingly frozen in place while Lydie has moved on and is about to have a baby in the city. These scenes are heavy on hangout humor (much of which didn't quite work for me), as details come in a drip while Agnes and Lydie mostly reconnect and banter. Even if the humor doesn't always land, it's a welcome balm to know up front that Agnes has support and is feeling joy, even as we know heavier stuff is coming soon.

In fact, it's the attention paid to the supporting cast that really makes this world seem truly lived in. An extremely awkward rival (Kelly McCormack) sometimes helps and sometimes jealously plots against Agnes, who is on the faster track to the desirable positions at the college. A nerdy neighbor boy (Lucas Hedges) patiently powers through some very strange initial meetings with Agnes to develop into a love interest. A professor (Louis Cancelmi) serves as a mentor to Agnes and encourages her talent. You can completely get a feeling of what it's like to exist in this close-knit, small, rural town, trying to find out if you fit in this kind of out-of-the-way bubble of society.

The light tone starts to fade as we spend more time with Cancelmi's mentor professor, as red flags start to mount seemingly with every interaction he has with Agnes. It's not hard to see that we are headed towards the Bad Thing, and when it happens, Victor doesn't show any of it, instead using a brilliant visual device that builds tension and dread better than words or action ever could. Agnes then immediately recounts the horrifying event in detail to Lydie, and your heart just breaks. Their emotional conversation is devastating to listen to, but Lydie's empathetic support lets the love shared between the two friends almost overpower the Bad Thing.

The following scenes use humor to lampoon the ineffectiveness of doing the things you're "supposed to do" after such an event. An extremely unhelpful doctor checks out Agnes and proves to be of no use whatsoever. The event is reported to the university's administration, who can only provide empty words of support instead of actually taking any meaningful action. The offending teacher immediately skips town and life quickly moves on, as Agnes is left to just deal with what happened mostly on her own. It's a bristling sequence of events that will enrage you at how bad our society is at handling assault, even as Victor invites you to laugh at the sheer idiocy of it all.

Victor's performance is a true marvel, creating a character in Agnes that is a lovable, awkward, and totally believable young woman at a relatable crossroads in young adulthood. She is smart, funny, and talented, but unsure of herself and the life she's chosen, stuck in a place haunted with bad memories. Sometimes it feels like she is thriving, and then sometimes it all gets too much, as showcased in a powerful scene where she breaks down in a parking lot only to be comforted by a stranger (John Carroll Lynch). It's a beautiful scene that will reaffirm your belief in the goodness of humanity, one of many sequences (including a lovely final scene) that show how kindness and empathy are the only way we can ever start to heal.

Victor's debut is full of confidence, even showcasing a talent for utilizing moments of beautiful, visual silence, letting the viewer take a beat to reflect and really absorb the emotion of a moment. There are scenes and conversations here that will linger with the viewer for months to come. "Sorry, Baby" is full of subtlety and wit, a delicate and tender piece of work that allows us to see humanity at its best and at its worst -- a complicated but reassuring story of what it's like to be alive right now.