Breaking Down Babygirl (2024): A Psychological and BDSM Perspective

Nicole Kidman’s latest film, Babygirl (2024), digs into themes of power, desire, and self-discovery through a BDSM-infused relationship. Directed by Halina Reijn, this erotic thriller follows Romy Mathis (Kidman), a high-powered CEO who starts an affair with her young intern, Samuel (Harris Dickinson). What begins as a simple attraction quickly evolves into a dynamic that flips the script on Romy's carefully controlled life, revealing deep emotional and psychological layers.

While the film captures some real aspects of BDSM dynamics, it also raises ethical questions and leaves gaps in the broader conversation about power exchange, relationships, and self-acceptance. Let’s break it down.

The Struggle Between Romy and Jacob: Why She Couldn’t Be Honest About Herself

One of the most interesting—and frustrating—elements of Babygirl is Romy’s marriage to Jacob (Antonio Banderas). (SIDE NOTE: I always used to LOVE hearing him say his RL wife's name when he was married to Melanie Griffith! Swoon!) Outwardly, they have the kind of relationship that looks great on paper: he’s a successful theater director, they live an affluent life, and they seem to move through the world as an accomplished, enviable couple. But under the surface, Romy is completely disconnected from herself.

Her difficulty in being honest with Jacob about her desires isn’t just about shame—it’s about survival. She’s spent years molding herself into the “right” kind of wife and woman, sacrificing the parts of herself that don’t fit that mold. The idea of expressing her true needs—particularly ones that might challenge traditional relationship dynamics—feels like a threat to the stability she’s built. And honestly? That’s a familiar psychological pattern.

People in long-term relationships, especially ones shaped by societal expectations, often suppress parts of themselves for the sake of keeping the peace. It’s not even always conscious—sometimes it’s a slow erosion of self over time. For Romy, her attraction to submission isn’t just about sex; it’s about finally stepping into something real, something that makes her feel alive again. But because she’s spent so long in a relationship where that kind of honesty wasn’t an option, her only outlet becomes an affair, rather than confronting what’s missing in her marriage.

Jacob, for his part, is oblivious in that way that happens when a couple falls into predictable roles. He assumes everything is fine because Romy never disrupts the status quo. And here’s the kicker—she doesn’t even try. Not really. Because the reality is, she doesn’t believe she can be honest without everything falling apart. This dynamic is painfully realistic. Many people fear that revealing their true selves will result in rejection, even from the people who are supposed to love them most.

What Babygirl Gets Right About BDSM

1. The Psychology of Power Exchange One of the most accurate parts of the film is how Romy’s dominant, high-pressure professional life makes her crave submission in her personal life. This isn’t uncommon. Many people with high-stress leadership roles find relief in BDSM dynamics that allow them to let go of control. The film captures that tension well—how giving up power in one space can feel liberating when you have to hold it everywhere else.

2. Consent and Negotiation While the movie doesn’t go into great detail about negotiation, it does show Romy and Samuel engaging in a relationship where boundaries are implied and followed. Samuel may be younger, but he holds the dominant role with confidence and clarity, demonstrating a dynamic where submission is given, not taken.

3. The Allure of Discovery For Romy, stepping into a submissive role isn’t just about the physical experience—it’s about unlocking something inside herself that has been dormant. The film portrays this awakening with nuance, showing how BDSM can be a path to self-awareness rather than just a sexual preference.

Where Babygirl Falls Short

1. Ignoring the Emotional Consequences The film does a good job of showing Romy’s internal conflict, but it barely touches on the need for aftercare. BDSM isn’t just about the scene—it’s about what happens afterward. Aftercare is crucial, especially in power-exchange dynamics, to ensure that both partners feel safe, supported, and emotionally grounded. The lack of this element makes the film’s portrayal feel a little incomplete.

2. Ethical Issues in a Workplace BDSM Relationship While BDSM itself is based on consent, Babygirl largely sidesteps the massive ethical gray area of a CEO having an intimate power-exchange relationship with her intern. Even if both parties consent, there’s an inherent imbalance that can make genuine consent tricky. The film leans into the fantasy of power dynamics without fully addressing the real-world implications.

3. Lack of a Broader BDSM Context BDSM isn’t just about two people figuring things out in isolation—it’s a community with deep-rooted principles of education, mentorship, and best practices for safety. The film treats BDSM more as a secret indulgence than a structured, intentional practice, which reinforces the misconception that it’s just about sex and not about deeper psychological and relational aspects.

Final Thoughts: A Compelling but Incomplete Exploration

At its core, Babygirl is a story about desire, identity, and the cost of self-denial. It captures the emotional pull of BDSM well but simplifies some of its realities. Romy’s journey is compelling because it reflects something many people experience—the need to shed the expectations they’ve carried for years to finally embrace who they are.

Her relationship with Jacob underscores the psychological barriers to self-honesty, while her affair with Samuel serves as both an awakening and an escape. But what the film misses is the full emotional spectrum of BDSM—the structure, the intentionality, and the aftercare that make these dynamics sustainable and fulfilling.

For those new to BDSM, Babygirl may feel like a bold, erotic exploration of power and submission. For those familiar with the lifestyle, it may feel like a glimpse into something much deeper that never quite gets fully explored. Either way, it sparks important conversations about consent, control, and what it really means to know yourself.