DAN WEBSTER:
As with most things that affect us profoundly, trauma is not an easy experience to explain, much less portray—not on a page, on a stage or in a film. All too often, the reason for the trauma either serves as the crux of the project, or the lingering emotions associated with it tend to overwhelm everything else, especially any movement toward recovery.
Certain kinds of trauma can, of course, last a long time—maybe even over a lifetime. But others tend to meld into our everyday activities, into our very beings, affecting us in ways we may not even notice. But when some precipitating events occur, they make themselves known, bringing back the unpleasant memories with pure vengeance.
In her film Sorry, Baby, writer-director Eva Victor gives us Agnes (played by Victor herself), a college English professor living on her own on the outskirts of a small Northeastern town. Agnes is a skilled classroom instructor, deflecting the comments of a student critical of Vladimir Nabokov’s novel Lolita without negating the student’s feelings but adroitly shifting the conversation to the quality of Nabokov’s prose.
Yet we know something troubling is at work deep inside Agnes. At times, she hears noises at night outside her house but, when confronting the darkness, she finds nothing there. Nothing except, presumably, some deep-rooted fear—an emotion that abates when she’s visited by her longtime friend, a former roommate (and perhaps lover, though Victor never makes this clear).
The friend, Lydie (played by Naomi Ackie), is our key to Agnes’ past. The two were graduate students together, and it was Lydie who was witness to Agnes’ recounting of what she calls the “bad thing” that she endured. She was also with Agnes during an examination by a male doctor who was more concerned with legal protocol than he was with Agnes’ feelings.
Sorry, Baby actually opens with Lydie, now living in New York City, having come to visit. From there, Victor unveils her movie non-chronologically, moving not always clearly from past to present, including a number of important moments in between.
Some of those moments are pure quirk, such as when she first meets her neighbor Gavin (played by Lucas Hedges), which occurs when she appears suddenly at his house to borrow lighter fluid. Some are trying, as when she is confronted by a former schoolmate (played by Kelly McCormack), jealous that Agnes was hired to fill the teaching position that she wanted.
Others, though, are touching. Perhaps the film’s most moving scene involves Agnes suffering from a full-blow panic attack. While patiently coaching Agnes back to calm, the owner of a sandwich shop (played by the veteran actor John Carroll Lynch) smoothly transforms from an at-first harsh individual into someone both caring and experienced at helping soothe anxious souls—not to mention serving delicious sandwiches.
One of writer-director Victor’s strengths is her ability to fill silences with meaning. When Agnes visits the house of the professor who is her thesis advisor (played by Louis Calcelmi), we first see her walking toward, then entering, the house. But we don’t enter with her. Instead, Victor focuses her camera on the house’s exterior as time passes, day turning to night, until Agnes emerges—quickly, though, and without closing the door behind her.
Yes, this is followed by a long scene of her sitting in her bath, explaining to Lydie the confused specifics of the encounter. But her monologue only adds details to what we already know: Something bad has occurred.
And we know as well that Agnes ultimately will be OK, that she will be able to weather the thoughtless questions of a doctor and the disingenuous sentiments of college administrators who hide behind the false assumption that they know how she feels because they, too, are women.
This is Victor’s first stint as a filmmaker, and it isn’t likely to speak to everyone, especially not to those who prefer to see trauma handled in a manner tied more to obtaining justice than attaining inner peace. Resolving trauma can take many forms, though, and Victor’s Agnes clearly has the emotional tools to find her own path to health.
For Spokane Public Radio, I’m Dan Webster.
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Movies 101 host Dan Webster is the senior film critic for Spokane Public Radio and a blogger for Spokesman.com.