Sorry, Baby (15) |Close-Up Film Review
Dir: Eva Victor, 2025, US/Spain/France, 103min
Cast: Eva Victor, Naomi Ackie, Louis Cancelmi, Lucas Hedges.
Review by Matthew Morlai Kamara
Friends in the film community who’d caught it at Sundance and other festival stops didn’t just recommend it—they insisted it was a must watch. The way they spoke about it—eyes wide, voices loaded with emotion—I knew I had to experience it for myself. So, when the chance came I was ready for something special.
Written, directed, and led by the hugely talented Eva Victor, Sorry, Baby is an extraordinary blend of warmth, wit, and emotional weight. Victor plays Agnes, a young professor navigating the long, complicated road after a deeply traumatic chapter in her life. Told in fragmented, non-linear glimpses spanning five years, we see how the echoes of the past weave into the present, shaping her relationships, career, and sense of self. Victor never sensationalises what happened—there’s no cheap drama or manipulative flashback. Instead, she focuses on the quiet, everyday moments where recovery quietly takes root: awkward dinners, tentative new friendships, even the strange comfort of routine.
Alongside Victor is Naomi Ackie as Lydie, a best friend whose love is fierce, sometimes blunt, and always unwavering—making their dynamic as lived-in as it is emotionally rich. The supporting cast is equally impressive: Lucas Hedges brings warmth as Gavin, her endearingly kind neighbour; John Carroll Lynch offers a touching presence as Pete, a figure of unexpected comfort; and Kelly McCormack steals scenes as Natasha, an eccentric former college friend turned work colleague whose simmering edge hints at old tensions.
What Sorry, Baby does so brilliantly is strike that rare, perfect balance between humour and heartbreak. One moment, I was howling with laughter—like when an unexpectedly chaotic café order turns into a full-on comedic meltdown, or when a painfully awkward social introduction spirals into pure cringe gold. These moments feel completely organic, born from character quirks rather than forced gags, and they land all the harder because of the heavy emotional undercurrent running through the film. Then, in the very next breath, a simple gesture or single, loaded line of dialogue would leave the room in stunned, pin-drop silence.
Visually, the film is an understated feast. Mia Cioffi Henry’s cinematography wraps Agnes’ world in a delicate, melancholic glow, making even the smallest settings feel cinematic and intimate. Production designer Caity Birmingham and costume designer Emily Costantino layer the visuals with authenticity, while editors Randi Atkins and Alex O’Flinn piece together the fractured timeline with precision. Lia Ouyang Rusli’s score hums gently in the background, adding emotional undercurrents without overpowering the story—it’s the kind of music you feel rather than just hear.
If I’m nitpicking, the fractured timeline might throw some viewers off at first. It asks you to piece together Agnes’ journey rather than laying it all out in chronological order. For me, that choice only deepened the impact—mirroring how memory and healing rarely follow a straight line.
Ultimately, Sorry, Baby is a heartwarming, fabulous film that fully deserves the hype. Iit’s my favourite film of the year. I’ll be stunned if it doesn’t pick up multiple nominations and wins during the upcoming awards season. So, award season, clear the runway!
