SORRY, BABY: “Not Thinking It,” Trauma Triggers, & What Heals

Something bad happened to Agnes in Eva Victor’s, Sorry, Baby. Yes, Sexual assault is bad. And, Agnes has the typical trauma responses: thinking and not thinking about it, confusion, disorientation, depression, and hyperalert distrust. Yet, watching this film as a psychoanalyst who treats trauma, I have to say that something bad also happened to Agnes much earlier in her life.

I kept waiting for a flashback that never happened. New trauma layered upon childhood trauma isn’t always the case, but it isn’t uncommon either. And Agnes is insecure about love, ambivalent about any desire for love, and she doesn’t want to get old, not even to think about that. So, I have to say there is much more trauma in Agnes’s world than sexual assault, which is bad enough. Sorry, Baby gives no backstory for Agnes, but I picked up on hints. Let’s peel back those layers.

Am I Special? Do You Love Me?

No one is as insecure as Agnes (Eva Victor) about whether someone loves her, unless she had love trauma early in life. I’d guess that Agnes wasn’t loved by her mother, since she so needs her best friend, Lydie (Naomi Ackie), to love and reassure her that she does. Intruders into their closeness (the baby inside Lydie, Lydie’s wife, Fran (E.R. Fightmaster), and the fact that Lydie moved away) are threats to Agnes’s feeling loved. She easily sees signs that she “isn’t wanted” in Sorry, Baby.

Agnes wants to know if Lydie misses her even though she’s married. That baby inside Lydia’s body? “Are you going to name it Agnes? You’re happy?” Well, Lydie might be happy, but Agnes is not. A dark, troubled shadow crosses her face as she turns away. The baby is a competitor for Lydie’s love. She’s already lost Lydie to New York and Fran. Now more?

So, she’ll join in. Merge with Lydie in her experience so she doesn’t lose her: “Maybe I should have a baby too. They can be brothers.” Why not a girl? Too threatening. Another girl for Lydie.

But the worst part of wanting to be special is when you don’t see that your Graduate school thesis mentor is a predator. You miss the red flags. Agnes likes being his favorite, hinting at the likelihood she certainly wasn’t her mother’s. She loves winning out over Natasha (Kelly McCormack).

Agnes is so hungry to have Decker (Louis Cancelmi) say things like “This is extraordinary” that she thinks nothing of going to his house to meet instead of his office. (Red Flag: He says his kid is with his ex.) Agnes is infatuated with Decker. She wants something from him. Admiration. Maybe love.

A Bad Thing Happened to Agnes

Agnes does not expect assault. She told Lydie, “I wouldn’t fuck him, even if he asked. I’d say, “No, but thank you.” Thank you because she wants so much to be loved. Agnes is insecure about love. She’s an up-and-coming graduate student with a future, even if her childhood wasn’t good. At school, she has a place that she needs. She doesn’t want to lose Decker’s admiration.

Walking in Decker’s front door to discuss her thesis, he asks her to take off her shoes and come upstairs. Another missed red flag. He says it’s not to track in mud from the wet winter. She asks if he has her thesis. But Decker’s acting strange. No, Agnes doesn’t see rape coming in Sorry, Baby.

Next thing we know, the house gets darker. Too much time has passed. Then, Agnes rushes out Decker’s front door. Decker stands behind, hauntingly, at the threshold. Clearly, something bad happened to Agnes while she was in Decker’s house. It has nothing to do with a meeting about her thesis. Agnes’s behavior “reads” trauma as she drives erratically away, in Sorry, Baby.

Agnes is dazed. Not there. She talks to Lydie, but doesn’t come right out with what happened. That’s not uncommon. There’s “not wanting to think about it.” Often shame and self-doubt, too. She couldn’t (was scared to) say “No,” directly. She kept pushing his hands away. It was obvious. But he was more concerned with himself and forcibly taking her.

Lydie says, “You mean rape.” She hugs Agnes, who’s in a daze and can’t shake it, for good reason.

Why Agnes Can’t Think About It…

Agnes has an office that has bad vibes. She tries to put it out of her mind that the office was Decker’s. It has such a nice view.  She got the office when she graduated because Decker fled after he raped her. Agnes doesn’t “think about” the things that bother her. At least she tries not to.

Not thinking about it is a trauma response. Another word for that is dissociation. When you try not to think about it, it’s because you don’t want the bad thing(s) that happened to be real or true. But they are. So, all the ways you feel about what happened (and are trying not to) still exist.

There is an insensitive doctor and bumbling administrators at school when Agnes tries to get help. No one gives her a place to talk about it, except for Lydie. But Agnes can’t talk, for her own reasons. Having no one care or understand happened a long ago, too, making Agnes well-practiced in “not thinking about it.” So, not talking isn’t a new thing, either. Agnes tries to be self-sufficient, living alone in the middle of nowhere as if she doesn’t need anyone (even though she does). She doesn’t like to be vulnerable. Agnes won’t fully let anyone in. Not even Lydie. So, she keeps her neighbor, Gavin (Lucas Hedges), a seemingly nice guy who wants to know her, at bay.

If you can’t think about it, you can’t talk about it. Talking about it makes it real. And, the feelings try to come up. We see that when Agnes is called for jury duty. She’s in a huge battle being honest about the bad thing that happened to her. She wants to talk, and she doesn’t. The “Doesn’t want to” wins out in Sorry, Baby.

Is the Door Locked? & Death Thoughts

Not talking or trusting means Agnes must be hypervigilant. Careful. Watchful. At all times. She can’t let her feelings or memories into her mind. So, she keeps imagining someone is at her door trying to break in. Is it Decker? Or her feelings? She must keep the door shut tight, in Sorry, Baby.

She hears things outside. Checks the door. Is it locked?  But if you’re constantly fighting off your feelings and memories, they linger just below awareness. And that leads to sudden reactions. To desperation. Finding ways to make your thoughts go away. That can lead to death fantasies.

Agnes fluctuates between wanting to kill herself and Decker. Anything to permanently make the memories that threaten to intrude, stop. For good. When these impulses arise, they aren’t rational. They’re driven by seeing no other way to keep the door to her feelings closed.

Wanting to kill Decker is understandable. There’s rage after being raped. A wish to retaliate. Agnes goes to her neighbor’s (Gavin, that’s how she meets him) to borrow lighter fluid to “barbecue hot dogs.” Gavin is rightfully suspicious. Agnes wants to set Decker’s office on fire (or herself?). Lydie offers to kill Decker for her. Agnes backs down. They have to barbecue the hot dogs, or “I’ll be caught in a lie.” Lydie says she’ll figure out how. After all, she was going to kill a man …

What’s serious is Agnes wanting to die. That worries Lydie: “Don’t die.” “I won’t. If I were going to, I would have done it a year ago, or the year before …”  But keeping those memories dead is not as easy as just “not thinking about it.” Something can stir them up. That’s a trauma trigger.

And here comes Agnes’s trigger…

When Memories Intrude, Agnes Needs Help

Agnes is promoted to full faculty, filling Natasha with envy. She follows Agnes into her office and lets her know that she wanted the job: “Everybody likes you. You were Decker’s favorite.”  “No, I wasn’t.” “Yes, you were.” Natasha spitefully tells Agnes, “I fucked Decker.” Stunned, Agnes asks: “Did you want it? Did you do it on purpose?” Yes, Natasha did.

Flash to the scene in Natasha’s head (or Agnes’s imagination): “I had 5-minute sex with him. I’ve had better.” Agnes had even felt sorry for Decker. Didn’t want him prosecuted (“he has a kid.”) She’d protected him and his image in her mind. She did think she was his favorite and didn’t see him. Now Agnes knows who Decker is. A man purely out for himself and what he can get. Never mind his position or who he hurts. This trigger overthrows her defenses. Agnes can’t “not think about it” any longer. The memories and feelings are right there, trying to intrude, in Sorry, Baby.

Agnes rushes out. She can’t get a breath, can’t drive, and has no idea her dissociated feelings are giving her a panic attack. Is she dying? What’s happening to her? Agnes pulls into a parking lot. The shop owner (John Carol Lynch) yells: “We’re closed. You can’t park here.” Then he sees. Pete knows panic attacks. His son has them. He knows what to do. And, because he’s kind, listens, and shares his own struggles, Agnes can talk and let him help her. They eat sandwiches from his shop and talk. Agnes sits like a little kid, the child still living inside her who had no one to care.

But Agnes still can’t let Gavin care. Only fuck her. She doesn’t want to grow up. More bad things might happen if she changes.

How The Sorry, Baby Talk Helps Agnes

Lydie comes to visit Agnes with her family. Agnes asks: “Do you like her?” “You mean my baby? Yes, I like her a lot.” “Do you still like me?” “I love you both.” Agnes obviously didn’t have a mom who liked her. That set Agnes up for insecurity about love, keeping good men away, and attraction to the likes of Decker. Agnes says hello to the baby, and Jane starts to cry. No surprise, Agnes takes this as a personal rejection: “Is it my face?” That’s why she keeps Gavin at a distance and won’t let him in.

Lydie wants Fran to see a special lighthouse. Agnes offers to watch the baby so they can go together. There’s tension between Fran and Agnes. Neither trusts the other: “Don’t drop her,” Fran warns. Agnes felt dropped when Lydie married Fran. Agnes holds Jane and talks to her, as her own mother didn’t. She’s not only talking to Jane. Agnes talks to the hurt child inside her.

And, this is where healing can begin.

She tells Jane that when she grows up, she can tell her anything. If someone hurts her, if she feels like killing herself with a pencil or something, that will never scare Agnes. That’s what Agnes didn’t get as a child. It’s why she’s so scared of losing love. “I’ll just say, yeah, I know it’s like that sometimes. Sorry, Baby, that bad stuff is going to happen to you. Sometimes bad stuff happens … But I can still listen.”  Agnes needs to let the people who care listen to her. If she can talk, instead of “not thinking about it,” she won’t have to lock the door to her feelings anymore. Maybe she’ll even want to grow up herself …