Sorry, Baby (Victor, 2025) - Cannes Film Festival

Nothing compares to the life-changing effects that come from any form of sexual event that occurs against someone’s own will, and often it is terribly difficult to discuss. Most films that include themes of this sort do not tackle them clearly or efficiently, and yet in her directorial debut, Eva Victor has crafted such a devastating yet invigorating piece of art.

Starring as her protagonist Agnes, Victor’s Sorry, Baby follows her throughout the aftermath of experiencing a tragic event. Agnes remains stuck in time while the rest of the world keeps moving forward with what feels to be without her. Told in somewhat of a nonlinear method, audiences are introduced to Agnes and her closest friend Lydie (Naomi Ackie) as they reunite after a while apart. Lydie has moved on past the town they took their Masters in and is now living in New York City with her partner. Flashing back to the year of the incident, Victor tells Agnes’ story in chapters, wrapping up the film by going back to this first chapter to continue it until the end of the film. 

It is always said that so much more can be conveyed by showing instead of telling, and in Sorry, Baby Victor tells such a profound story without any words being spoken at all. Filmmakers need to be careful, or should be careful, when taking such an impactful and dark event and sharing it on the screen. But when Victor chooses to show the moment when Agnes’ life changes forever, all the audience sees is the house where it happens. No more, no less. In such a short sequence, the silence gives the audience shivers down their spines. We all know what is happening, but we aren’t privy to the information. 

A story told through chapters, following “the year with…” in Agnes’ life, Victor chooses a fresh and clever way to show her story. Unlike your typical narrative, Agnes’ story does not have a simple resolved ending, as she remains stuck in this moment that changed her life forever. Though she may have moved forward, perhaps the truth is that a victim of such an event can never truly move on, and this is how Victor is trying to convey that to the world. 

Through her narrative methods, Victor also employs carefully considered character aspects and communications that showcase how uneasy interactions can be between sexual assault victims and others. Not many films focus on this vial act well, but Sorry, Baby focuses on showing how the victim’s life comes to a standstill and how the public uncomfortably approach speaking to or “assisting” the victim. Victor has written the side characters in a manner that the way in which they speak to Agnes comes across in such a monotone and blatant fashion that the audience feels uncomfortable. Another way in which Victor pushes the audience to feel the same discomfort, to a certain extent, that the victim experiences. The lack of compassion that revolves around sexual assault victims, especially those who do not press charges right away or might “not be telling the truth”, can be felt through the writing of these secondary characters in Sorry, Baby and their interactions with Agnes. 

It is a difficult thing to craft such a heartfelt film with a deep message, especially as your directorial debut. Putting all that out into the world takes guts, the same guts Agnes has that keeps her going despite being stuck in time. Sorry, Baby captured the hearts of many at the 78th Cannes Film Festival, and hopefully it will continue to do so upon wider releases. It will remain important to remember though, that the message that can be felt through the whole of the film, that even in darkness there is always a way to find the light – that light is in Agnes, and it can be in us all.