Sorry, Baby (2025)

Directed by Eva Victor

There is a stillness that encapsulates Sorry, Baby, written and directed by Eva Victor in her directorial debut. Agnes experiences a tragic event and finds herself struggling to realize that everyone else continues on with their lives as if nothing had happened. 

Letterboxd Rating: ✰✰✰✰/5 

Letterboxd Statistics (subject to change): Weighted average of 4.06 stars based on 334,431 ratings

Starring: Eva Victor, Lucas Hedges, Naomi Ackie, and John Carroll Lynch 

Ever since I started to watch movies more actively, I have noticed that I have started to pay more attention to film festivals, most notably the Sundance Film Festival, and what films make their grand debut there. The Sundance Film Festival is where I first heard about Sorry, Baby, directed by Eva Victor, but I had not given it much thought. That was until a friend of mine, Elena, watched and reviewed the film on Letterboxd, her rating of it sticking out to me. She rated it four stars out of five like I did, and after asking her about it and receiving her recommendation, I decided to watch it. Here is my review: 

Sorry, Baby, is a quietly devastating film that understands trauma as not a singular event but as something that lingers in life’s most ordinary moments. In her directorial debut, Eva Victor was able to create a movie that feels incredibly intimate rather than performative, and approaches the storyline with emotional intelligence. Instead of focusing the film on its turning plot point, it concentrates on the aftermath of it, diving into elements such as memory, friendship, and the process of continuing on after something traumatic occurs. One of the biggest things that stood out to me whilst watching this was its cinematography and how deeply purposeful Victor made every shot feel. The camera would often linger in still frames and naturalistic spaces, allowing the silence or body language of a character to indicate to the audience how we should be reacting. Scenes from Sorry, Baby, that were shot indoors feel isolating and claustrophobic, while the outdoor scenes offer a breath of fresh air. The camera work alone displays how much they utilized composition, distance, and stillness. The score, although subtle and precise, also played a role in the film’s emotional undercurrent. It would gently heighten during scenes of unease, tenderness, or reflection, making itself known beneath the dialogue or silence. Sorry, Baby’s strongest underlying theme is that life is nonlinear. When something happens and it feels as if life keeps moving on for everyone else but you, you must realize that healing and acceptance comes in so many different ways. Agnes is a prime example of someone who must come to terms with what happened and therefore allow herself to cope appropriately. Everyone grieves differently, but the first step that everyone must take is allowing themselves to actually get there even if it may be incredibly difficult. “‘Sorry, Baby honors those years lost — the years where everyone goes back to their lives, but you are stunted, forced to reckon with a body that is suddenly divorced from your spirit. The quiet years where you still have to go to work surrounded by constant reminders, reminders that are invisible to others, that you’re not like everyone else. The years where your friend’s support can save your life, and where strangers can often make you feel safer than the people you’re told to trust.’” (Eva Victor, Sundance Institute)

An emotion to describe how this film made me feel would be heavy. It understands grief, numbness, awkwardness, and the loneliness life brings after a life-altering event. Sorry, Baby, earns its emotional impact through its patience and sensitivity. Eva Victor lets the viewers sit with discomfort and ambiguity, making for a realistic and intimate viewing experience. I cried, I laughed, and I cringed. I absolutely loved it. 

Get to know Eva Victor

Eva Victor on Turning Trauma into Art