Sorry, baby, life is a mess Review of Eva Victor's surprising debut in italian cinemas from January 15th

Going to the cinema is wonderful because every experience is different. There are electrifying, dynamic, and surprising cinematic experiences. There are contemplative, meditative visions. And then there are others that, even if the themes aren’t exactly cheerful, leave you leaving the theater feeling light yet electrified, thoughtful yet positive, with the desire to speak up again, with the desire to create something. Cinema exists because life is messy, and the way this very mess is portrayed on screen can also be luminous, not just entertaining, but delicate, profound, and ironic: all together in perfect balance. This and much more is Sorry, Baby, the directorial debut of Eva Victor, who also wrote the screenplay and appears as Agnes, the protagonist.

Sorry, Baby plot – in theaters from January 15

The official synopsis of Sorry, Baby reads: "Agnes is a young university lecturer, witty, capable, and brilliant. When she experiences harassment from a trusted person, her world shatters, but it all happens suddenly and quietly, almost on tiptoe. It would take time, but life goes on, at least for everyone else." And that’s the point. As unfair and bitter as it seems, life goes on even for Agnes, who struggles to see herself as a victim and, although deeply affected by the incident, lets herself float in a life that is beautiful in theory but marked in practice. Here lies the cruel irony of fate: even when everything inside you screams "move on," you curl up in your pain a little, because it’s easier. But the creative force of the universe (holistic, not religious in this sense) pulls you out of your hole, because your friend has had a baby, or because a man offers you a delicious Calabrian chili sandwich by the roadside, or because your cat needs you.

Awarded Best Screenplay at Sundance and celebrated at Cannes, this debut demonstrates extraordinary sensitivity and a directorial skill fully devoted to the story. Its strength lies in its moments of omission (we never see the rape scene; we only observe an anonymous house from the outside, because it’s not our role to speculate, nor is it the director’s role to show it to make us believe it). Through this restraint, everything becomes even more imposing and frightening, yet subtle and creeping. In a cinema increasingly appreciated only when it shouts, explains, and lays everything out clearly, it’s refreshing to see a director and screenwriter who trust their audience and leave room for interpretation.

Addressing sexual violence is a very difficult topic

This film - which, remember, hits Italian cinemas from January 15 and is not to be missed - is certainly not the only work dealing with sexual assault. A recent example is Electra, a book marking Violetta Bellocchio’s return in 2024, which portrays a brutal street harassment as one of the triggers for a calculated disappearance of the protagonist, narrated in the first person, somewhat autobiographically. Sorry, Baby, however, neither slips into absurdity nor autobiography; it stays on the razor’s edge between the intimate and the universal, balancing bitterness, irony, and poise.