People heal. At their own pace, with help or alone, more or less painfully. But one thing always remains the same: sooner or later, life around them moves on. Leaves change color, friends start families or move to the other side of the world. What remains is a swamp of memories. A mind held in suspension.

Sorry, Baby, written and directed by Eva Victor, tells the story of Agnes, a professor living in New England who is forced to navigate the aftermath of an experience entirely beyond her control and find her way out of that swamp. Along the way, she begins to understand what truly shifts within a person when painful memories take root in the body and how grief can also be directed inward: mourning the version of oneself that might have existed without trauma.

That is the quiet, persistent question at the heart of Sorry, Baby. In which humor plays a central role. Not to trivialize the experience, but as a form of self-protection, a way to survive emotional disarray. The film shows how differently people cope and affirms that taking time is not a weakness.

Without ever explicitly depicting the assault, Eva Victor — both director and lead actress, makes its impact profoundly felt, in a way that lingers long after the film ends. She challenges our perception of time itself. How minutes, hours, and years can slip out of sync in moments of crisis, and how healing is never a linear process.