As a dedicated follower of the awards circuit, I can tell you that the buzz for the 2026 Oscars is already in full swing. With the Gotham Awards kicking things off and the Golden Globe nominations just around the corner, Hollywood is abuzz with predictions. Yet, as I look at the landscape, I can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Every year, some truly magnificent films seem to slip through the cracks of the awards conversation, and in 2026, one film that's breaking my heart with its absence is Eva Victor's stunning directorial debut, Sorry, Baby. It's a film that, despite a tidal wave of critical acclaim and a powerful emotional core, isn't getting the Oscar traction it so richly deserves.
Let me tell you about this film. Sorry, Baby stars Eva Victor themselves as Agnes, a woman living in a New England house full of memories, working at the university where she earned her degree. The narrative, however, isn't straightforward. It unfolds in poignant, non-linear snippets, piecing together the story of a woman surviving a traumatic assault by a professor. What Victor achieves here is nothing short of masterful. The film navigates Agnes's healing journey—a path that is messy, frustrating, and feels eternally incomplete—with a warmth and empathy that is utterly disarming. Every review I've read echoes this: it's a heavy subject treated with such delicate care that the viewing experience becomes profoundly comforting, like a sigh of relief on a cold day.
Victor's directorial choices are a huge part of why this film resonates so deeply. They foreground Agnes's internal world in every frame:
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Visual Intimacy: The use of close-up shots and eye-level angles makes us feel like we're right there with Agnes, sharing in her silence and her small victories.
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The Power of Quiet: The film is rich with silence—not empty silence, but a reverent, heavy quiet that reflects Agnes's muted relationship with the world around her.
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Awkward Humor: This is where Victor's screenwriting genius shines. They weave in moments of awkward, genuine humor that never undermine the gravity of the trauma but instead highlight the halting, non-linear nature of healing. It stops the film from ever feeling stuffy or sanctimonious.
And this brings me to a crucial point. The Oscars have a historic, well-documented diversity problem in the Best Director category. Only 10 women have ever been nominated. No non-binary, genderfluid, or trans person has ever received a nomination. Eva Victor's work on Sorry, Baby—the patient direction, the cohesive visual and auditory landscape, the emotionally charged performance—is precisely the caliber of filmmaking the Academy claims to honor. A nomination for Victor wouldn't just be deserved; it would be groundbreaking, shattering a long-standing barrier. Yet, as the conversation solidifies, their name is frustratingly absent from the top-tier predictions.
Now, you might be thinking, "If it's so good, why isn't it a bigger contender?" It's a puzzle. The film has undeniable credentials:
| Metric | Achievement |
|---|---|
| Critical Acclaim | A stellar 97% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. |
| Awards Recognition | Nominated for Best Picture, Director, and Screenplay at the Spirit Awards. |
| Audience Love | Became a streaming hit on HBO Max after a quiet theatrical run. |
| Studio Pedigree | Released by A24, the studio behind recent Oscar winners. |
Its presence in the Oscars discourse is dwindling, and I find that baffling. A24, the studio behind it, is a powerhouse. While they're likely pushing bigger titles like Marty Supreme and The Smashing Machine for 2026, Sorry, Baby feels like the quintessential A24 film: hard-hitting, nuanced, and beautifully against the grain. It's the kind of project they built their reputation on.
So, what's the hold-up? Sometimes, films that are quiet and introspective get drowned out by louder, more obviously "Oscar-bait" productions. Sometimes, the timing of a release (earlier in the year) works against it. And sometimes, frankly, the Academy's habits are just hard to break.
As we move deeper into this awards season, I'm holding onto hope. The Spirit Awards nominations prove the film is on the industry's radar. Its streaming success shows it has connected with hearts. Sorry, Baby is a film about the courage to move forward while feeling stuck—a metaphor that, sadly, mirrors its own awards campaign. I truly hope that as voters look closer, they see what I see: a landmark directorial achievement, a performance of raw vulnerability, and a story that deserves its place among the best of the year. Eva Victor and Sorry, Baby have earned their recognition, and it's time for the Oscars conversation to catch up.