‘Sorry, Baby’ Offers Gen-Z Lessons in Processing Trauma

This piece features spoilers for the film Sorry, Baby (2025). 

“The best way out is only through…” – Robert Frost

In the poem “A Servant on Servants,” writer Robert Frost depicts the insecurities and anxieties of a lonely woman, struggling to find purpose and meaning in life. Disconnected from her surroundings and her identity, the woman expresses a sense of emptiness about her existence. In response to the woman’s dark thoughts, her husband aptly suggests that the “best way out” of her depression is not by avoiding or succumbing to the sensation, but rather by going “through it.”

Now more than ever, people have the means to easily disassociate themselves from the harsh truths of reality. Studies suggest that Gen-Z has a more negative outlook on life in comparison to older generations, largely because of an overwhelming sense of dread for the future. This exhaustion due to consistent hopelessness, fear, and anxiety has led Gen-Z to cope through escapism. Whether it’s scrolling for hours on social media or binge-watching shows, Gen-Z relies on the comforts of technology to numb the discomforts of life. The rise of superhero and fantasy films over the past decade has reflected this demand for escapist entertainment. However, similar to Frost, comedian Eva Victor confronts pain in her debut film Sorry, Baby, where she argues that we can become stronger and more resilient this way.

Sorry, Baby, A24’s latest release, brings a refreshing change of pace from the summer’s countless blockbuster franchise releases, with its grounded and intimate storytelling. Victor, who wrote, directed, and starred in the film, uses her distinctive voice as a comedian to paint an honest and complex portrait of Agnes, a young woman struggling to heal from the trauma of being sexually assaulted by her graduate professor. Winning the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the Sundance Film Festival, Sorry, Baby follows the thematic explorations of grief and trauma often seen in indie films, like last year’s A Real Pain. However, the film stands out thanks to Victor’s ability to masterfully balance the gravity of Agnes’s trauma with a heartwarming tenderness and hopeful outlook.

Credit: Rotten Tomatoes

The film begins with the joyous reunion of Agnes and her best friend Lydie, played vibrantly by English actress Naomi Ackie. While Lydie is living in NYC, married, and expecting a child, Agnes stayed in her college town to pursue a career as a professor. Stuck in the same house, same routine, and same cycle of memories from graduate school, Agnes seems frozen in time. As the friends reminisce about their school days, a grey cloud seems to shroud Agnes. Both Agnes and Lydie delicately tiptoe around her traumatic experience by simply labeling it “the bad thing.”

It is not until the film flashbacks to a chapter entitled “The Year with the Bad Thing,” where we discover that Agnes was raped by her thesis advisor Preston Decker (Louis Cancelmi). While Agnes initially interprets her professor’s admiration for her work as a sign of respect, their relationship immediately shifts when he invites her to review her paper at his home. When Agnes enters Decker’s home, the camera lingers on an exterior shot of the house, rather than following her inside, preventing the audience from experiencing the scene with her. As the sun goes down and the houselights emerge, the audience anticipates when Agnes will come out. With no score or movement, the stagnant wide shot of the house submerged in the darkness creates an eerie sense of discomfort and fear. Eventually, Agnes, disheveled and confused, storms out. The quiet yet bold choice to distance the audience from the assault prevents the film from sensationalizing Agnes’s trauma. Rather, the audience comes to understand the severity of the assault by observing how it significantly alters Agnes’s outlook on life.

In dealing with the aftermath of the assault, Agnes uses her sarcasm and quirky sense of humor to disassociate and avoid confronting the emotional weight of the experience. Throwing herself into work and relying on humor to deflect attention from her problems, Agnes tries to lighten the emotional burden and find a cure for her pain. To capture Agnes’s sharp-witted but anxious nature, Victor crafts a performance that combines the charmingly awkward temperament of Greta Gerwig with the biting sarcasm of Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

However, despite her efforts to stave off her memories, Agnes is struck with an intense panic attack one day while driving home from work. Pulling to the parking lot of sandwich shop, Pete the owner (John Caroll Lynch), steps out and helps Agnes through her panic. Pete gives Agnes his famous sandwich and a chance to talk about her experience without feeling any judgement or shame. When Agnes tells Peter that the “bad thing” happened three years ago, he responds, “Well, that’s not much time.” In that moment, Pete helps Agnes come to the realization that dealing with trauma takes time and patience. And while there is no easy cure to eradicating pain, this tender moment demonstrates how the kindness of friends can help soothe the pain. Whether it’s a random stranger, her goofy neighbor Gavin (Lucas Hedges), or her best friend, Agnes discovers the importance of finding a community of people who see her as more than just the “bad thing.”

Through the specificity of Agnes’s experience, Victor has created a story that resonates on a universal level, as she reflects on a simple question everyone encounters: Why is life worth living? Near the end, the film flashes forward to the present where Lydie, her partner, and her newborn baby visit Agnes. In the final scene of the film, Agnes shares an intimate monologue with the baby, where she reveals how she still struggles with her pain, but has learned how to find light among the darkness. As with the woman in Frost’s poem, Agnes understands that she cannot escape her trauma, but she has the power not to let it overcome her. 

While escapism in small doses can help pause reality and leave you refreshed, it can easily turn into a habit of avoidance and detachment. In an age where running away from our problems might seem easier than facing them, Sorry, Baby serves as an important reminder for Gen-Z. Younger generations can find inspiration from Agnes’s journey, as she faces her pain and comes out with a more nuanced understanding of life.