How Halina Reijn’s ‘Babygirl’ (2024) Redefined The Erotic Thriller

Forget revival — Babygirl¹ (2024; Halina Reijn) reimagines the erotic thriller for a new era. With a fearless performance by Nicole Kidman, razor-sharp direction by Halina Reijn, and a feminist approach to power and desire, it is a genre film that demands to be taken seriously.

Fantasy, Voyeurism, & The Thrill Of Reinvention

The erotic thriller — or psychosexual thriller to film buffs and genre-lovers — has been long associated with “cheap” and “porn-like” content, since its meteoric rise into the mainstream with Brian de Palma‘s sultry murder mystery, Dressed to Kill² (1980). While it can be argued that this film — and many of its successors — rely heavily on overly explicit, voyeuristic imagery shamelessly designed for the male gaze, nothing of the sort can be said about Babygirl, no matter how explicit or controversial it might get.

To be fair, voyeurism and fantasy were two key elements in this genre’s success — after all that is the very root of eroticism — and while hugely successful films like Adrian Lyne‘s classic tale of a one-night-stand gone wrong, Fatal Attraction³ (1987) and Paul Verhoeven‘s highly controversial and equally steamy neo-noir Basic Instinct⁴ (1992) fully exploit these for a more-than-obvious male audience, Babygirl turns the tables on them. It doesn’t just bring back the erotic thriller — it redefines it in its own terms, pushing the genre past its historically voyeuristic intentions into something emotionally daring and distinctly modern.

Disclaimer: This is not to say that erotic thrillers aren’t psychologically complex, because they are — hence, the term psychosexual — but as these narratives have evolved, so has the emotional and psychological development of its characters.

Rewriting The Rules: Babygirl’s (2024) Take On The Erotic Genre

So, Babygirl. A film often recognized due to its bizarre and enigmatic “milk scene” (a scene in which Nicole Kidman is sent a glass of milk by his “romantic interest” during a business dinner), but what is it actually about? A tech company CEO named Romy (played to perfection by Kidman) seems to have it all: wealth, beauty, and a picture-perfect family composed of his two daughters and devoted husband (Antonio Banderas).

But her life is turned upside down when a highly manipulative and sleek intern at her company (Harris Dickinson) seduces her, luring her into a dominant-submissive game of cat-and-mouse. Romy, sexually dissatisfied and haunted by her strange past growing up inside a controlling cult, craves to lose control in a life so carefully curated, both personally and professionally. Samuel (the intern) sees right through this and finds the perfect way into her bed and her psyche.

The sexual dissatisfaction trope is not uncommon in the erotic genre, also portrayed in another Nicole Kidman film and cult classic psychosexual thriller, Stanley Kubrick‘s Eyes Wide Shut⁵ (1999) — depicting a man embarking on a one-night sexual odyssey after his wife’s cheating fantasies come to light.

Fantasy. Cheating. Dissatisfaction. All of these are present in Babygirl (and most erotic narratives), but, in this case, also present these key differences. First, Romy’s POV helps us shift away from male gaze tropes and re-centers feminine perspective by laying her moral dilemma and inner turmoil as bare as her physical being, while also turning Samuel into the object of her desire. Keyword, object.

Second, the slow-burn tension employed by Rejin — wisely chosen over the commonly used shock factor — makes the sexual elements in the film less about shock and debauchery (without ever hesitating to use controversial imagery, of course), and more about emotional and moral disarmament.

Lastly, the use of silence, carefully curated pacing, and psychological intimacy preferred over spectacle sex elevates the emotional stakes and character complexity of our protagonists, making them much more than just attractive people having sex for views.

Nicole Kidman’s Boldest Role Yet & Why It Matters

It is no secret Nicole Kidman has a reputation for taking on sultry, seductive roles, one of the most notorious ones being the previously mentioned Kubrick masterpiece, and other standout roles being the hypnotically murderous femme fatale Suzanne in Gus Van Sant‘s dark crime comedy To Die For ⁶(1995) and the unstable, campy bombshell Charlotte in Lee Daniels‘ The Paperboy⁷ (2012) — all films where Kidman’s characters’ purpose was the same: being an object of desire, specifically designed for the male gaze.

While this might look like a typical Kidman role at first glance, if we look deeper, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, Romy is beautiful, refined, and quietly seductive, but she is also a woman with agency, ambiguity, and someone who simply refuses to be labeled or decoded. While she is also a mature woman, she owns this and the power that comes with it, deliciously subverting the “older women” tropes that always end as cautionary tales filled with dissatisfying self-pity. Romy never pities herself. She knows exactly who she is and what she’s doing, and even the high price that comes with her actions.

With more and more modern films focusing on more complex and mature female characters, the lens and scope of who can tell and experience these stories are changing, and how audiences perceive these characters is also changing. Sure, Kidman’s role was controversial, to say the least, but it was not because of the nudity and explicit nature of the film (after all, this is one in many riské films she has participated in during her decade-spanning career), but most likely due to her age. Age gaps are neither new nor shocking to erotica fans, with Michael Douglas being 15 years older than Sharon Stone when the pair starred in Basic Instinct.

While this has been a common occurrence within the genre, it has repeatedly consisted of the male lead being older than the female lead, with few exceptions like Adrian Lyne’s Unfaithful ⁸ (2002), a tale about a bored suburban wife having an affair with a younger artist. Funny enough, this “inequality” is mostly a heterosexual erotica issue, which has not been prevalent or even relevant in modern queer erotic thrillers such as Rose Glass‘ neo-noir Love Lies Bleeding⁹ (2024) and Emerald Fennell’s Gothic gem Saltburn¹⁰ (2023).

Although, queer erotica is a genre of its own and absolutely deserves its own in-depth analysis. Sexism, ageism, and every other -ism you can think of come into play when audiences are faced with Kidman’s fractured, sultry, and unapologetic character. But maybe that is exactly why it works. Rejin is aware of the judgment, the taboos, and the shame that often come with mature women exploring their sexual identity beyond being wives and mothers, and this is exactly what Romy portrays. When in bed, she’s not a powerful CEO, a dutiful wife, or a loving mother; she’s a woman letting go of her cares, her shame, of herself, and everything that restricts her.

Why We’ll Be (And Should Be) Talking About Babygirl (2024) For Years

Babygirl is not just a stylish, provocative entry into the erotic thriller canon — it is a turning point. By reclaiming the genre from its voyeuristic, male-dominated past, Halina Rejin redefines what eroticism on screen can look like when told from a distinctly female perspective. The film boldly shifts the gaze, centering Romy’s interior life — her traumas, contradictions, and desires — over spectacle.

Nicole Kidman’s performance isn’t merely seductive; it’s revelatory. She delivers a woman who is neither victim nor villain, but someone fully in charge of her own sexual and psychological narrative. With its elegant pacing, moral ambiguity, and subversion of genre tropes, Babygirl offers a masterclass on how to evolve a once-taboo genre into something resonant, complex, and culturally urgent. So daring and divisive, it’s no surprise Kidman’s performance was amongst this year’s most surprising Oscar snubs.

In a time when media is finally beginning to make room for stories about older, powerful, sexually autonomous women, Babygirl arrives as both a provocation and a promise. It dares audiences to look beyond ageist and sexist assumptions and instead engage with female pleasure, control, and vulnerability in all their messy glory. The gaze has finally shifted, and women are not just being portrayed as voyeuristic obsessions anymore.

They are now allowed to be the voyeurs themselves, and not only that; they’re also allowed to be sexual in a way that doesn’t merely cater to male satisfaction, but to their own satisfaction. And, as exquisitely provocative as this narrative is, it never feels cheap, exploitative, or unjustified. It is sexy, but it isn’t just about sex; it is thrilling but it’s also dramatic and reflective; it is erotic, but extremely personal, human, and most importantly, vulnerable.

Much like the psychosexual thrillers of the ’80s and ’90s sparked cultural debates about gender and morality, Babygirl is poised to do the same — only this time, the questions are sharper, the characters richer, and the perspective refreshingly reversed. It’s not just a film we’ll revisit — it’s one that will define where the genre goes next.

Footnotes

1. Babygirl. Directed by Halina Rejin. United States: A24, 2024. ↩︎
2. Dressed to Kill. Directed by Brian De Palma. United States: Cinema 77, 1980. ↩︎
3. Fatal Attraction. Directed by Adrian Lyne. United States: Paramount Pictures, 1987. ↩︎
4. Basic Instinct. Directed by Paul Verhoeven. United States: Carolco Pictures, 1992. ↩︎
5. Eyes Wide Shut. Directed by Stanley Kubrick. United States: Warner Bros. Pictures, 1999. ↩︎
6. To Die For. Directed by Gus Van Sant. United States: Columbia Pictures, 1995. ↩︎
7. The Paperboy. Directed by Lee Daniels. United States: Nu Image, 2012. ↩︎
8. Unfaithful. Directed by Adrian Lyne. United States: 20th Century Fox, 2002. ↩︎
9. Love Lies Bleeding. Directed by Rose Glass. United States: A24, 2024. ↩︎
10. Saltburn. Directed by Emerald Fennell. United Kingdom: Amazon MGM Studios, 2023. ↩︎