Be Our Father Figure, Harris

Spoilers, including the ending, follow for the film Babygirl.

Was there a time in my life before I saw Harris Dickinson swaying those gangly limbs and that tattooed body to the bombastic, celestial, undeniably sexy “Father Figure”? I’m sure there must have been. But I, like Nicole Kidman’s titular “babygirl” ruining her life for this man after seeing him calm down an angry dog, am enthralled. I am transfixed. I have watched and rewatched this white boy wasted, British up-and-comer edition sequence too many times. Samuel getting down to George Michael’s most iconic song is the scene in Babygirl because of how smartly it plays with seduction, gender roles, and sexual power.

Babygirl is at its best when it lets its characters’ desires just flow — like in the “Father Figure” scene, which communicates everything we need to know about how CEO Romy Mathis (Kidman) and her intern Samuel (Dickinson) are approaching this affair. When it begins, Romy has already undressed in front of Samuel at his behest, lowered herself to her knees to perform (off-screen) oral sex, and has been told by Dickinson in his husky, flat-American-accented whisper, “You’re my babygirl.” So far, she’s been the submissive one; they’re both playing roles, but Romy’s is usually that of the performer, doing what Samuel asks and getting rewarded for it with his attention and a steady stream of milk. But when that first note of “Father Figure” hits, their dynamic shifts. Now it’s Samuel performing for Romy, a reversal that allows us a raw, vulnerable glimpse into Samuel’s sense of self — one that tells us he is authentically a fuckboi. And we all get to delight in it.

First, the hard cut: Samuel in a medium shot, shirtless, standing alone in the frame, as those stuttering first notes and thumping synth line drop in. Then, the long take: He has a cut-crystal glass of brown liquor in his hand (this is key) as he bumps along to the music. His gold chain (also key) is on, his shirt is off, and his tattoos are out, and when he sways, we’re seeing them fully for the first time. (For Dickinson newbies, he played a heavily inked hacker in A Murder at the End of the World, during which he coaxes Emma Corrin into singing along with Annie Lennox’s “No More ‘I Love You’s.’” It’s pretty cute.) As Samuel sashays toward the camera, the Old English KES text on his upper right arm and a gigantic open-mouthed snake on his left come into frame. Scratchy little symbols on his fingers become more distinct as he takes another sip of his drink and waves his hand in front of his face. And, the pièce de résistance on his right ribcage: A winged cherub in a black balaclava mask wielding a machine gun, a fantastically fuck-it image that seems to fly as he twirls, body rolls, shimmies, and dips.

Babygirl isn’t especially interested in providing backstories for its central characters. Romy and Samuel’s characterization is just thin enough that it’s distracting whenever director and writer Halina Reijn tosses out certain details: Romy was raised in a cult and that’s maybe why she’s into erotic scenarios where she gives up control — okay? Samuel worries he’s self-destructive — I mean, obviously? Romy’s husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas) hates his wife’s various floral aprons — well, my man, I don’t see you packing your daughters’ lunches! But Samuel’s tattoos, and especially that cherub (which is actually one of Harrison’s, along with the snake, the finger tats, and the KES, inspired by Ken Loach’s gorgeous, same-named film), tells us all we’ll ever need. It’s a sign of his youth and impetuousness, his nihilism and menace. He’s declarative and ready to strike, while also free and at ease in his own body in a way Romy never is.

All those layers make this scene feel prickly and barbed. It’s Magic Mike XXL as Samuel twists and grinds; it’s The Bodyguard when he lifts and carries Romy in his arms; it’s a fantasy that emphasizes the eroticism of being catered to by another person’s willing body. As Romy sits queenly in a throne-like chair watching him do this little Chippendales routine for her, she seems like the one now in control of their dynamic. But as the one displaying himself for consumption, Samuel has power, too, in deciding what she sees and how she sees it. Think of the opening lines in “Father Figure”: “That’s all I wanted/Something special, something sacred/In your eyes/For just one moment/To be bold and naked/At your side.” Romy and Samuel are at their most open and bare here in terms of what they want from each other — to be adored, and to be attended to.

This sexual idyll can’t last, of course. Samuel and Romy will each get stalker-y; his girlfriend, who happens to be Romy’s assistant, will blackmail her; Romy will confess a heavily edited version of the affair to her husband Jacob. (She seemingly leaves out that her and Samuel’s safeword was his name, the movie’s funniest detail.) But for the length of “Father Figure,” Babygirl gives us the familiar version of this story, the one where an ‘80s needledrop accompanies a bad boy getting loose in his own skin. There’s comfort in recognition, and pleasure in anointing a new daddy (especially one with such a perfectly illustrative tattoo). Fire away, Harris!