Some films tiptoe around sensitive subjects; this one charges straight in, yet somehow never loses its balance. Sorry, Baby is a remarkable piece of work—engaging, disarmingly funny, and deeply unsettling all at once. It’s a story about trauma that refuses to flatten into tragedy, using humour as both a shield and a scalpel.
Eva Victor, who also writes, directs, and stars, comes across as a bold new voice. Her character’s sardonic wit is both armour and weapon, turning comedy into a self-defence mechanism. It won’t sit comfortably with everyone—there’s an edge to the humour that risks feeling too glib—but that tension is precisely what makes the film so striking.
What lingers is how carefully it balances tone. One minute you’re laughing at a barbed one-liner, the next you’re floored by the pain underneath. Few films manage to be this candid without collapsing under the weight of their subject. Sorry, Baby doesn’t just survive the risk—it thrives on it.