Sorry, Baby
Sorry, Baby
Something bad happened to Agnes. But life goes on… for everyone else. When a friend visits on the brink of a milestone, Agnes realizes how stuck she’s been, in this bittersweet story of finding your way after your world comes crashing down.
Kevin Ward reviewedJune 30, 2025
This moment when Agnes is reeling from a "something" that has altered her sense of self, and she anxiously, awkwardly approaches her neighbor—ready to burn something, perhaps anything.
Agnes: “Do you have lighter fluid?”
Neighbor: “What for?”
Agnes: "My friends and I are gonna make hot dogs."
Neighbor: "Ooh, hot dogs sound good!"
Agnes: “Oh. Sorry…we only bought two.”
Neighbor: ““Oh…no….that’s no problem. I have dinner plans with my mom.”
Neighbor: …. "That's not true. I'm sorry. I just wanted to close myself off from the possibility of being rejected.”
Eva Victor writes, directs, and stars as Agnes in Sorry, Baby, a film that the aftermath of a trauma—one that is all too common—and mines it for humor and humanity. Agnes lives in a state of dissonance, where a single, life-altering event has left her fundamentally changed while the world around her remains eerily the same. She now inhabits a version of reality that feels crueler—not because it has suddenly become so, but because now she knows it can be.
For a film that touches so directly on trauma, Victor handles the material with remarkable precision. The inciting incident isn't ignored—it still carries emotional weight and a few choice moments of (off)screen time—but the film resists fixating on it or sensationalizing it. Instead, the film focuses mainly on the relationship between Agnes and Lydia (Naomi Ackie). Tender, loving, and accepting of each other in every capacity, their relationship allows them a precious amount of vulnerability. But even in this safest of spaces, the words—rape, sexual assault—remain unspoken. As if to name the thing would solidify it, make it irrevocably real, and confirm to Agnes that this is a world where bad somethings happen--and that they can happen to me. Sorry, Baby is a sharply observed portrait of innocence lost, and the painful process of learning how to live in a world that no longer feels "safe"—and maybe never was.