If you just want a quick explanation of Babygirl, here it is. Babygirl is a mid-life coming-of-age movie. At the beginning, Romy’s sense of disconnect from her husband reaches a boiling point. Everything that happens between her and Samuel helps Romy process what’s going on, what’s been missing, and, ultimately, how to communicate better in her marriage and life. It’s about someone who has worn a mask their entire life figuring out how to take it off.
Through the juxtaposition of workplace automation (symbolizing societal artifice) and her rekindled marriage (symbolizing liberation and transformation), Romy realizes it’s possible to find true authenticity, even if that means dismantling carefully built illusions.
The film’s final orgasmic moment dramatizes the catharsis. No longer confined by her husband’s obliviousness or the burden of her own silence, Romy embodies Esme’s speech about “Sincerity, vulnerability, and radical self-honesty.” Babygirl shows just how freeing—and loud—it can be to truly be yourself.
Esme’s speech is the key to understanding Babygirl
The entire theme is summed up in Esme’s speech near the end of the film. Here’s what Esme says:
It is such a huge honor to have been guided by a woman like Romy Mathis. She understands the importance of being a voice for your peers, and an advocate for women around the world who might not have the same opportunity that us sitting here have. So to be lifted up by a hero like her makes this experience so much more exceptional.
Who are we as women? Modern leaders aren’t afraid to take chances, embrace change, and usher a team into the unknown. Sincerity, vulnerability, and radical self-honesty will create a work environment of shared learning, compassion, and true connection.
Now, how do we do that? By making changes from top to bottom to support women at every level across the company. If we dare to let go of expectations and move towards what scares us, we can often find unexpected strengths. Today, we celebrate genuine authenticity and true uniqueness in every individual that works at Tensile.
We invite each other to show the world who we really are, regardless of people’s assumptions, and without fear.
The issues in Romy’s life stemmed from her inability to articulate what she needed and wanted. She wasn’t being authentic, would, instead, be who her husband or kids needed or wanted her to be. Samuel is merely the mechanism through which the film has Romy discover sincerity, vulnerability, and radical self-honesty. Once she’s able to let go of the world’s expectations and be more true to herself, she can, finally, be who she really is, regardless of assumptions and without fear.
What happens right after Esme’s speech? Romy’s older daughter, Isabel, the rebel, shows up and convinces her mom that it’s okay and to come home. That “work environment of shared learning, compassion, and true connection” that Esme talked about applies to families, too.
Romy and Isabel had been at odds throughout the movie because the mother wanted the daughter to look and act in “proper” ways. But Isabel was already her authentic self. Once Romy’s mask of perfection falls off, she and Isabel can finally connect.
And that carries over to the reconciliation that immediately follows. Romy goes to the theater and says to Jacob, “It’s my fault. I told you that I was someone else, and I got angry because you didn’t know who I really was. And I’m so sorry.
And what happens in the very next scene? Romy’s back at work and whoever Sebastian is walks in and talks down to her. “Why don’t you come over next week for drinks? I’ve got the house to myself?” And Romy, now being her authentic self, says, “Why don’t you fuck off, Sebastian? Whatever the fuck you’re capable of, of what you know, of what you don’t know, I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ever talk to me like that again. If I want to be humiliated, I’m gonna pay someone to do it. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Obviously Romy is no longer afraid. Which brings us to the last scene, where Jacob pleasures her the way Samuel had. Instead of it being about Jacob, it’s finally about her. Why? Because she communicated. And, after all these years, she orgasms. Which is just a metaphor for the good things that happen once you’re finally honest with yourself and others.
That’s the basic gist of Babygirl. If you’re satisfied there, great. If you want some more nuances, let’s dive in.
What AI has to do with Babygirl
Romy’s the CEO of a company that automates warehouse work. It’s literal dehumanization. That parallels Romy’s own emotional struggles. She’s overwhelmed by the artifice of pretending to be someone she’s not. I know people might laugh at the way the character orgasms, how loud and visceral it is, but that’s exactly the point. It’s not the sound of the male fantasy. It’s awkward, vulnerable, guttural—human. And that’s why the movie ends on that sound. She’s letting herself be real in front of her husband for the first time in their decades-long marriage.
I think Babygirl uses the workplace as a euphemism for society. Tensile’s AI revolution is a metaphor for ever-increasing artificiality. The prime example is social media and how people present themselves on various platforms. How often are your posts truly authentic versus performative because you have an audience or are trying to build an audience or because you’re chasing likes, etc.?
There’s a coffee shop here in Austin, TX called Jo’s. One of its outside walls has a message in red spray paint: I love you so much. It’s incredibly unassuming. But it’s become iconic. People who visit the city go to Jo’s specifically to take pictures under the graffiti to post to Instagram, TikTok, etc.
It’s gone from something spontaneous and interesting to a thing someone does because they saw 50,000 influencers do it.
So there’s this duality between the dehumanization of the workplace and the artificiality that’s causing people to lose authenticity outside of work. That’s why the movie bounces back and forth between Romy’s life at work and her life at home. The two mirror one another. Romy’s manicured professionalism is a mask that hides how she really feels.
And women have historically been marginalized at work and home. Men have been given more leeway to be themselves. Look at Jacob. He’s not a bad guy. He doesn’t ostensibly do anything egregious that would make someone watching the movie go “Oh, he deserved his wife cheating on him.” He’s just completely oblivious.
Even when Romy tries to open up about what she needs, he shuts it down because he feels slightly uncomfortable. Where Romy has spent their entire marriage indulging him, he couldn’t be bothered to do the same thing for one second because he doesn’t feel the same pressure to mask his emotions. He just thinks, “I don’t like this” so says out loud “I don’t like this.” And that’s it. It isn’t until the end of the movie that he realizes his own culpability in what happened.
That’s why Esme’s speech so heavily speaks to the female experience. Sure, it’s applicable to everyone, but we’re in an era where women have more equality than any time in recorded history. But that can be, especially for people over 50, like Romy, hard to really embrace. Babygirl gives permission to explore that authenticity. That’s why the two main motivators for her new outlook are Late Millennials/Early Gen Z-ers.
What about Romy’s cult background?
The cult, to me, serves two purposes. First, it gives Romy a background that involves being controlled. That acts as motivation for why she has this desire to be told what to do. Even though she’s clearly moved past being in a cult, there’s still part of her that craves being subservient.
Second, I think the cult ties back to the previous thematic conversation about society. Whether we realize it or not, society itself is a kind of cult. You’re in something and you’re expected to behave a certain way to stay in good standing. Those expectations vary from place to place. But they exist pretty much everywhere.
Being older, Romy grew up in an America that doesn’t exist any more. But she’s still living her life as if it did. Which is why she represses so much of herself. She doesn’t have to, though. Which is why these younger influences—Samuel, Esme, and Isabel—teach her to open up. They help her become more “modern”. And I don’t mean modern in the sense that she cheated and its okay. I mean “modern” in the sense that she’s allowed to be authentic. It was actually the pressures of tradition that drove her to cheat.
So the cult stuff is kind of self-reflective. We all were shaped by the narrowness and intensity of our childhood influences. And we can be unaware of how those influences continue to shape us into adulthood, even when we think we’re so far past them. Babygirl’s kind of asking viewers to think about the way such early experiences may cause self-limiting behaviors. And giving permission to move past them.
For the real cinephiles
If you’re a cinephile who really wants to dive deep, there are two techniques I want to discuss that you should be aware of if you want to better understand the movies you watch.
Technique #1: Beginning and Ending
How does Babygirl begin? We see Romy on top of Jacob. He orgasms and says “I love you.” Then she rushes off to watch porn on her own and climax by herself because he didn’t get her there and she doesn’t want him to know. She bites her own arm to keep from making a noise.
How does Babygirl end? Romy is no longer on top. She’s the submissive one, now, as he pleasures her. This time, she orgasms, thanks to Jacob. And she’s audible as hell about it.
People who watch a lot of movies have probably picked up on this, but most films made by people who understand thematic development utilize this technique. The opening scene establishes the starting place of the characters and theme. Then the closing scene shows us where things end up.
Kids movies do this (The Lion King). Wide release movies do this (The Matrix). And artsy movies do this (2001: A Space Odyssey). Granted, some pictures don’t care about this at all and are just focused on plot. For example, I wouldn’t expect a deeper, thoughtful use of opening and closing scenes from your average Netflix Original or a Hallmark movie.
But if you’re watching something that has any kind of artistic juice whatsoever, then odds are the filmmakers have designed the opening and closing scenes in such a way that everything you need to know about the movie is right there.
In Babygirl, the opening scene establishes the dichotomy of Romy. She performs as the perfect wife, but has this side her husband isn’t aware of because she keeps it a secret. And right away Halina Reijn uses Jacob to establish that an orgasm is a gateway to a deeper affection. She gives that to him, but he doesn’t give that to her. It becomes the symbol of what’s missing in their relationship.
The rest of the movie is just a further development of everything in that opening scene. We see Romy perform, then we see her do something in secret. For so long, her life was 99% performance, 1% secret. But the percent shifts, until the secret can’t stay contained anymore. In a tragedy, it would cost Romy everything and we’d have a sad ending. In a comedy, things resolve in a much more positive way. Which is what happens.
Romy finds a way to be more authentic and that division in her life goes away. Everything that happens between the first scene and the last scene is part of bringing the character to this point.
It’s the same in a movie like No Country For Old Men. How does it start? With Tommy Lee Jones telling us about when he first became a sheriff and this killer that they caught and stopped. How does it end?
Tommy Lee Jones failed to catch and stop a killer, so retired, then talks about a dream where he’s going into the afterlife with the ghost of his father. Everything that happens in between those moments is in service of driving the character to that tragic place of a broken spirit, where he realizes he’s too old to be effective. It’s right there in the title.
Technique #2: Literal and representational
Like with the previous technique, this is one of the most basic, foundational things theme-aware movies do. In movies driven by a theme, most of what literally happens represents something thematic. What does that mean?
In Babygirl, Romy is afraid to be her authentic self. She hides her desires and feelings, at work and home. Something has to happen that causes her to become more in touch with those desires, to start being more authentic. There are an infinite number of things that could cause that to happen.
Romy could hit her head and become telepathic and read the minds of other people and realize everyone has secret desires so starts helping others be more authentic and thus becomes more authentic herself.
Romy could secretly join an MMA gym and wins her first fight in record time and suddenly her team wants her to do more public fights but she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s into MMA. Etc. etc.
Fight Club is pretty much the same beginning and end. The Narrator doesn’t know how to be his authentic self. So he creates a split personality that is authentic and causes him to step away from the superficial life he had been living and embrace something more visceral. At the end, he manages to find a healthier balance between community and individuality.
Reijn went with “has an affair with someone who indulges all of her desires.” It’s far more realistic and grounded. But the result is the same—Romy learns more about herself, it leads to a crisis in her life as people become aware of what she’s been doing, but she finds a way to make it all work.
In all these situations, what happens merely represents the emotional journey the character goes on to reach a point of aligning their regular life with their secret one. Someone who watches Babygirl through a literal lens, might be frustrated that Samuel doesn’t have much character development, or think Esme’s blackmailing of Romy isn’t believable. But those complaints miss the point—those characters were only ever there as part of Romy’s journey.
It’s the same thing with The Substance. Some viewers get caught up in details like “Did Elisabeth not have to pay for the substance?” Or, my favorite, are complaints about how it’s not realistic that Sue gets a job because she doesn’t have documentation. Literal details like that aren’t important in a movie that’s so clearly representational of larger issues. If you’re watching films that literally, then you’re missing the forest for the trees.
Cast
- Romy Mathis – Nicole Kidman
- Jacob Mathis – Antonio Banderas
- Isabel Mathis – Esther McGregor
- Nora Mathis – Vaughan Reilly
- Samuel – Harris Dickinson
- Esme – Sophie Wilde
- Written by – Halina Reijn
- Directed by – Halina Reijn
