Q&A WITH EVA VICTOR
Eva Victor is a multi-talented new filmmaker whose feature debut Sorry, Baby earned mass acclaim at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. Victor directed, wrote, and starred in the film, which balances their idiosyncratic brand of comedy with a heartfelt lead performance. Addressing trauma and its after-effects, Victor never veers into pitiable terrain; instead, offering a sensitive portrait of Agnes, a woman whose close friends — Lydie (Naomi Ackie) and Gavin (Lucas Hedges) — help her cope and bolster her self-growth.
Sorry, Baby is now showing in theaters nationwide.
Q. There’s something quite powerful about how you assemble Sorry, Baby as a series of vignettes. How did you land on this unique structure and was it at all influenced by your previous experience creating comedy sketches and online videos?
A. I wanted the film to begin with an explosion of joy—for the intimacy and romance of the friendship to be the first experience of the story. For me, the film is about love and friendship and trying to heal, and much less about violence. Agnes and Lydie have this deep, family-like bond, and we hopefully feel that immediately, and feel let in on that closeness. If we, as an audience, are able to laugh together within the first three minutes of the film, after things get harder later in the film, I think we’re more easily able to return to a place where we can laugh together again—we’ve laughed before, we’ll laugh again.
We, without realizing it, tend to flatten people who’ve been through this kind of trauma. We paint people as tragic figures, in order to not look at them, to convince ourselves that bad things only happen to certain kinds of people, not people like us. I wanted everyone to fall in love with Agnes and Lydie, to feel their wholeness, so when we go back in time, they’re not dismissable, they’re real people.
Q. Both Lucas Hedges and Naomi Ackie bring an incredible warmth to the film. Could you speak to how you cast them and what it was like working with them on set?
A. I always said Agnes is the moon, Lydie is the sun, we need to find our sun. And Naomi was just that—she is so radiant, and thoroughly beautiful, and funny, and goofy, and brilliant, and so warm. When I met her, I wanted her to like me. I wanted her to want to be my friend. Then, we read together, and I think the characters clicked into place in this really magical way. Naomi is a transcendent actor, and so very loving and patient. She can do absolutely anything. I’m so lucky she was in for this ride, and that she trusted me with her performance and as a partner in this.
Lucas, the legend… I have always thought he was this incredible mix of deep feeling — sweet and funny, like a walking heart. I couldn’t believe he said “Yes.” He’s very meticulous; he is very thorough and thoughtful about what he wants to do, and he just jumped into this. The character fit him like a glove. Both Lucas and Naomi exceeded my wildest dreams of how this movie could feel, how these characters could come to life. How lucky am I.
Q. You’ve spoken about the period in which you wrote the script for Sorry, Baby as a real rush, as though the film wrote itself. What was it about this film that inspired such an experience and what were your aims in telling this story?
A. It took me a while to go from knowing I wanted to write a story about healing in the aftermath of a trauma to understanding how to translate that into a piece. Basically, how to structurally support that idea. I was asking the question, “Is it possible to make a film that contains this kind of violence without showing it or centering it, and still maintaining dramatic tension? Can I make a film about this where people feel safe enough to laugh?” I wanted the film to feel like a hug. I wanted someone watching to feel like they were holding hands with the film while watching it. I didn’t want anyone to ever feel scared. I sought to make the film a version of me needed at one point in my life.
Q. What qualities do you value most in a character?
A. I have always been drawn to the Chekhov thing where a character looks out at the horizon for four minutes, sighs, and then says, “The sky is blue,” but really, the subtext is, “I want to die.” I think that feels very true to how people are.
Q. Who, or what, do you think is the future of filmmaking?
A. Queer people.
Q. Where have you found inspiration that people might not necessarily expect?
A. I am unfortunately very fueled by rejection. I have a real “I’ll show ‘em” thing. But also paintings. This doesn’t make sense to say after what I just said, i.e. this is about to be random. But, I do think that making a film with babies and kittens in it was very inspiring because I realized quickly that they don’t know they are in a movie; they are just there reacting to what you’re doing. So they are very honest and present. And that kind of keeps you present.
Q. What is your “guilty pleasure” movie?
A. I don’t believe in the idea of guilty pleasure on a moral level, but I think a movie about guilty pleasure that rocks is The Piano Teacher.
Q. What image would you like to end this interview with?
A. Arne Svenson, The Neighbors #2. 2012.
