A scene from 'Babystar'

Babystar Review: TIFF 2025

Being a child star can be a blessing and a curse. The pros are spending time with other famous people, earning money for playing make-believe and potentially starting a career. The cons are people taking advantage of your naiveté, varying levels of abuse and missing out on experiences of similarly aged kids. For professional actors, protections were enacted after countless young performers revealed their negative experiences. But influencer families are now the entertainment industry’s Wild West and those young people are just becoming old enough to discuss the impact on their childhoods. Babystar chronicles one kid’s wakeup call.

Sixteen-year-old Luca’s (Maja Bons) parents (Bea Brocks and Liliom Lewald) are social media influencers. She grows up in front of a camera with virtually no privacy as her parents realize children’s milestones are good for viewership. She’s the envy of all online teens with millions of followers she counts as friends – because she doesn’t have any real ones. To capitalize on this universal loneliness, they’re launching an A.I. friend app modelled after Luca. Now, she can be her own best friend.

But with no new followers, they need a digital boost and nothing grabs people’s attention like the highs and lows of a new baby. Accustomed to being an only child, the news inspires galling acts of rebellion, permanently changing their relationships with each other and their viewers.

Family influencers are one of the most popular online categories. The posts are so intimate and frequent, avid followers often feel like they know the screen families. YouTube is like an archive of Luca’s family’s home movies, viewed by thousands of strangers. Early on in the film, going back to old videos is a way to revisit happy memories. But as the narrative progresses, it becomes evidence of the exploitation Luca is subject to.

The film goes behind the scenes of those perfected family videos to explore the spotlight’s impact on Luca. The family initially appears very close, but the baby announcement reveals cracks in their arrangement. They’re slight at first, but the gaps grow wider the longer the camera lingers. Though the family is fictional, there is an overwhelming feeling of authenticity – especially in light of recent docuseries recounting mistreatment in influencer households.

Luca’s vehement protests are shocking. Yet, her outrageous cries for help are ignored by everyone but the audience. These immature outbursts are troubling signs that everything is not okay. Her fear of losing or sharing everyone’s love and attention emanates from the screen. But living in isolation with her parents creates a toxic co-dependency that’s now amplified under threat.

The film plainly illustrates the absence of discretion when it comes to Luca and her well-being. The constant pressure to perform for the camera, even when she doesn’t want to, makes viewers uneasy. It raises questions about what kind of coercion may occur before some of the internet’s real-life viral videos. Everyone’s felt sorry for the kids whose relatives pull out a phone before lending a hand – this film stirs those emotions for its entirety.

Bons does excellent work depicting Luca’s evolution from a happy-go-lucky social media star to someone newly awakened to the truths of their reality. Audiences empathize with Luca’s predicament and the poor choices she makes since she lacks the tools to properly address the issue. In the meantime, the parents are the story’s inadvertent villains. Their need for views easily overpowers their love for Luca, putting her and the audience into uncomfortable situations. When she rebels, viewers are frustrated to see that they spend more time trying to cover up her behaviour than dealing with it.

Interestingly, director Joscha Bongard opts to obscure any visual or oral reference to brand names in the film. They blur any logos and bleep references to trademarks, like TikTok. It subtly draws attention to these product placements, underscoring their presence with little effort. It’s a clever but delicate cue that prompts audiences to think about their ubiquitous nature.

The film aggressively questions the ethics of an unregulated influencer community. There are no easy answers, but it does controversially imply that the only protection these kids have right now is themselves.

Babystar screened as part of the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival. Head here to get all our That Shelf TIFF coverage.



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