Nicole Kidman is a tour de force as a woman having a sexual awakening in Babygirl

The film "Babygirl" opens with Romi (Nicole Kidman) having sex with her husband of 19 years, Jacob (Antonio Banderas). She makes the appropriate noises, but once it's over and Jacob falls into a post-coital stupor, Romi sneaks away to watch porn on her laptop and masturbate. She has never reached orgasm with Jacob, and in fact, she has never had an orgasm at all.

The film almost immediately shifts from the intimate space of the home and its hidden secrets to the sterile environment of a warehouse. Romi is the CEO of a robotics company, and her character embodies the kind of mechanized, automated processes found within the company. Romi always maintains a perfect appearance, meticulous and precise, pursuing perfection in all areas of her life, carefully preparing lunch boxes for her two daughters with handwritten notes, while also spouting meaningless company slogans in promotional videos and getting regular Botox injections.

There's a touch of "Severance" in the world-building of "Babygirl." Dutch writer-director Halina Reijn accurately captures the minutiae of daily office life, from tedious office small talk to Romi swapping her practical sneakers for precarious high heels the moment she steps into the office. However, Romi's cold detachment begins to unravel with the arrival of new intern Samuel (Harris Dickinson), who is almost 30 years her junior. Confident and impulsive, even a bit rude, Samuel intuitively guesses what Romi wants from him, and their chemistry is palpable. Thus begins an affair conducted in private hotel rooms and hidden corners of the office.

There is an obvious power imbalance in the illicit relationship between the CEO and the intern, but Samuel hints early on that he holds all the cards in this affair, subverting the relationship from the very beginning. Samuel is not only Romi's abuser, he also warns her that he could easily destroy her professional and personal life if he were to expose their affair. Romi is acutely aware of this dynamic, and it is this dynamic that gives their escalating affair a passion and sexual thrill that is so lacking in her own marriage. Furthermore, there are his commands for her to lick milk from a saucer, to get on all fours in a tight pencil skirt, and to hide in a corner like a punished child.

"Babygirl" is not as sexually explicit as its trailer suggests. The raw, visceral pleasure Romi experiences with Samuel is carnal and instinctive, but Jasper Wolf's camera focuses almost exclusively on Romi's facial expressions as she engages in these acts. "Babygirl" is not interested in fully capturing these sexual encounters—the sex itself is not particularly erotic—but rather in Romi's inner world as she transforms and when her most perverse desires are realized.

Despite being filled with secret sex and uninhibited desire, "Babygirl" is surprisingly tender and funny. Romi and Samuel are both experimenting with different ways of being with each other, and they sometimes fumble in their dominant-submissive dynamic. Romi's attempt to communicate her sexual preferences to Jacob, while embarrassedly wrapped in a bed sheet, is both humorous and painful. Cristobal Tapia de Veer’s score is one of the greatest achievements of “Babygirl,” setting the tone of the film. Romi and Samuel's affair montage unfolds to the perfect soundtrack of George Michael’s “Father Figure” and INXS’s “Never Tear Us Apart.” When Romi feels increasingly uncomfortable at her daughters' birthday party, watching the children dance between them, the scene is scored with Le Tigre’s upbeat pop-punk song “Deceptacon.”

One of the film’s most memorable scenes is when Romi joins Samuel at a rave, with strobe lights illuminating their movements in sporadic flashes, while Yellow Claw’s dissonant electro-house music plays. The brilliant work of costume design duo Kurt and Bart is another highlight—every piece of clothing Kidman wears looks like it was tailored for her body. The film’s minute details are heavily symbolic, as Romi’s life gradually unravels and is reflected in those around her. Her playwright husband, Jacob, is directing Henrik Ibsen’s play “Hedda Gabler,” a narrative centered on a woman trapped in marriage and bound by societal expectations.

Romi's behavior is mirrored on a smaller scale by her older daughter, who cheats on her girlfriend with a neighbor and is caught by Romi late at night secretly smoking, which Romi then joins her in. Many scenes also have a surreal quality that makes one wonder: did some of this actually happen? Kidman is brilliant in a role where she shows vulnerability both metaphorically and physically, but Romi’s own evolution might have been more convincing if the character had been more clearly shaped. Snippets of a backstory about a childhood spent in a commune leave Romi’s motivations and impulses vague, even as her behavior escalates (though, thankfully, “Babygirl” doesn’t fall into the trap of humiliating Romi like many portrayals of BDSM do).

Ultimately, "Babygirl" may not present any particularly novel or subversive views on female desire, the pursuit of pleasure over shame and reason, and issues of power and consent. The stakes also aren’t high enough to make this feel like an erotic psychological thriller—Romi is not punished, a clear departure from the 1990s films from which Reijn draws inspiration. But it is still a thrilling ride, with a masterful performance by Kidman, and it is an unexpectedly insightful thesis on not the moral consequences of a woman going astray, but the liberation that comes through self-reinvention.