A black SUV, windows heavily tinted, drives up to an affluent country estate. A reception line of people stands outside. The car doors open, and young teenagers file out, all blindfolded. What is this, exactly? The last stop on the Lolita Express?
No, the visitors have arrived at this undisclosed location (hence the blindfolds) because they’ve won a contest. They’re here to meet The Perfect Family, as represented on their social media account our_bright_life. They’ve watched Mom, Dad, and Daughter over the years as they play out their life in public.
The visitors sit around an outdoor table. The family is, in their eyes, a paragon of perfection. “We are just incredibly free,” 16-year-old daughter Luca explains, “and do so many beautiful things and such cool trips. And the best thing is we’re paid for being ourselves.” The visitors pepper the family with questions: “Do you believe in cosmetic surgery?” “What do you weigh actually?” A boy tells Luca, “You look different online. Just over-the-top insanely pretty,” implying that in person she isn’t.
The opening of the new film Babystar deftly balances curiosity and WTF. There’s trouble in paradise, of course: Luca has become bothered with the whole influencer thing. Mom counters, “You’re a brand; you just need to use it.”
No less than Odysseus, Luca wants a home. She has grown up under the scrutiny of her parents’ cameras and has reached the age where remarks like that matter. Her parents are healthy, attractive people, well-meaning in their way, who have figured out how to monetize their lifestyle. Dad’s phone is always out, recording everyday events, and immediately posting them. The family’s every move is calculated for clicks.
And then Mom tells Luca that she’s having another baby, who will become part of their cast. Luca rebels.
As Luca, Maja Bons presents as pretty, pliant, and brooding. Mom (Bea Brooks) and Dad (Liliom Lewald) project a benign concern for their daughter. When she acts out in a restaurant, they leave and eat the meal in the cab of their car, vigorously chewing despite the irreverence.
Director Joscha Bongard has taken on a similar topic before in the 2022 film Verified Couple. He has a fine visual sense, icily elegant, framing the lushness of this fantasy life against Luca’s private times, which are shot simply, befitting her ennui. He’s young, a member of the Digital Generation, as attracted to the vlogger life as he is disparaging.
Babystar is well-made but irresolute. Luca’s life is underpopulated, and her frowns and glances are open to the viewer’s interpretation. She could use a sidekick, someone to complain to. Her motorcycling pal Julie (Joy Ewulu) is an entree to an adventurous life, but their meetings are made up of few words and many pauses.
It’s hard to know exactly what Luca wants. Is she after freedom? Independence? Why then imperiously use her celebrity to try to fashion a new family? Luca’s final act is symbolic but head-scratching.
Babystar is billed as social media satire. But satire works best when it’s pointed and warns us of excesses. Babystar is too taken with the bright, shiny images on our phones. In contrast to the vitality of those with her family, Luca’s scenes are long, almost lethargic takes. Maybe it’s only a document of our times, and not a cautionary tale at all. “I’m addicted to validation,” Luca admits at one point. Maybe Babystar is, too.
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Babystar. Directed by Joscha Bongard. 2026. German with English subtitles. Runtime 98 minutes.