Hidden Gems #007: Babyteeth

Some films don’t hit you all at once. They settle in quietly, disarm you, make you laugh in places you weren’t expecting, and then leave you with something that lingers long after the credits roll. Babyteeth is one of those films. Tender, strange, funny and quietly devastating, it is one of the most affecting debuts of the last decade. And outside of Australia, far too few people have seen it.

Directed by Shannon Murphy, this is not the cancer drama you think it is. On paper, the story sounds familiar. A terminally ill teenage girl named Milla falls in love with Moses, a homeless drug addict drifting through life. You expect sentimentality. You expect manipulation. You expect a film that tells you how to feel.

Babyteeth does none of that.

Instead, it leans into the mess. The relationship between Milla and Moses is unpredictable, uncomfortable at times, and often unexpectedly funny. It doesn’t fit neat moral frameworks, and the film never tries to force it into one. What emerges is something far more truthful. Love that doesn’t arrive at the right time, in the right way, or with the right people, but matters all the same.

At the centre of it all is Eliza Scanlen, who gives a performance of remarkable openness as Milla. She plays her not as a symbol or a victim, but as a teenager discovering life at speed, fully aware that time is limited. There is joy in her performance, curiosity, awkwardness, and a quiet defiance that stops the film ever slipping into pity.

Opposite her, Toby Wallace is extraordinary as Moses. His performance is chaotic, vulnerable and completely unpredictable. You never quite know what he will do next, but you understand why Milla is drawn to him. Wallace’s work earned him the Marcello Mastroianni Award for Best Young Actor at the Venice Film Festival, and it is easy to see why. He doesn’t soften Moses or try to make him more palatable. He simply makes him real.

Around them, the film is anchored by two exceptional performances from Ben Mendelsohn and Essie Davis as Milla’s parents. Their story runs parallel to the central relationship and adds another layer of emotional complexity. They are loving, flawed, overwhelmed, and trying to hold everything together in a situation that offers no clear answers.

When Babyteeth premiered at Venice, critics immediately recognised something special. It was described as a film that leaves you with a feeling of pure elation and palpable regret, a combination that perfectly captures its tone. Yet despite that acclaim, it never translated into widespread international recognition or major awards momentum.

And that is exactly why it belongs in Recce’s Hidden Gems.

Because this is what Hidden Gems are for. Films that are celebrated in the right rooms but never quite reach the wider audience they deserve. Films that do not shout for attention but reward those who find them.

Babyteeth is not a film that announces its importance. It reveals it slowly, almost gently, until you realise it has completely disarmed you.

If you have not seen it, it is waiting.

Hidden Gems are not always hidden because they are small. Sometimes they are hidden because they are too honest to compete with noise.