Bad things happen. And they don’t just happen the one time and then it’s over with. The bad thing lives with us for long after – sometimes right on the surface, an open nerve, and sometimes buried in our bones, a kind of cancer to be reactivated by a surprise trigger.
In writer/director/star Eva Victor’s wildly accomplished debut feature, the bad thing is not shown, or even explicitly named, but it is described after the fact in forensic detail by Agnes, a graduate student in rural Massachusetts. But not at first. In their ingenious plotting, Victor begins the film years in the future, with Agnes now a professor but still living in the same town, even the same house, and clearly still struggling with what happened to her. Her best friend and former classmate Lydie (Ackie) has come to visit, and despite their giddiness to reconnect, Lydie’s concern for Agnes is palpable. From there, Victor shifts to other points in Agnes’ timeline – these chapters have titles to ground the viewer in time (“The Year With the Baby,” “The Year With the Bad Thing”) – and their out-of-orderness is essential to understanding Agnes, before and after, the ways she is changed, and the ways she is 100% undiluted Agnes Concentrate throughout. Wherever she is in the timeline, she never stops being a self-deprecating, principled, beautiful weirdo – as distinctive and ultimately dear a character as I can recall in recent film.
You may have already guessed what the bad thing is. It’s stomach-churningly commonplace, to find yourself in a situation you thought was safe, in a relationship dynamic you thought you understood, and then all of a sudden one person changes the rules, forcibly. But what is uncommon is a filmmaker who can traverse dark terrain with such lightness. Never didactic or hectoring or doomy, Victor infuses her film with cockeyed humor and depthless compassion.
Emotional intelligence, too: Most movies are about getting across a finish line – a crisis averted, a bad guy caught, a kiss then fade to black – but Sorry, Baby is a lot more honest about the fits and starts and setbacks and go-agains that happen when we’re trying to piece ourselves back together. Victor proves not just an able writer and director but actor too, most especially in a scene where their body shifts from vulnerable to guarded in the blink of an eye. Without saying a word, they beautifully illustrate how a person can go from having a breakthrough to not wanting to be touched – not forever, just for a little bit.
Victor’s no softie – they’ve got real bite when it comes to exposing idiots. (Sorry, Baby has a few.) But they’ve got a generous spirit, too; I was moved to tears by the bond between Agnes and Lydie, and how Victor and Ackie bring to life the cellular nourishment true friendship provides. Shot on location in Northeastern Massachusetts, chilliness hangs in the air of every frame, but Sorry, Baby – a uniquely special thing – is suffused with warmth.
Read Richard Whittaker’s interview with Eva Victor.
This article appears in July 11 • 2025.
