Why Daddio Made Me Sick

I've always hated taking taxis, mainly for two reasons. First, I'm not exactly well-off. Even though I live in a big city now and have a decent job, I wouldn't go so far as to call myself middle class in terms of lifestyle. Unless I can get reimbursed, I rarely choose to take a cab. Second, I hate male drivers (no offense). The reality is, 99% of the time, you'll end up with a male driver, and about 50% of those times, they'll be the kind you just can't stand. Of course, these stats aren't accurate—they're just based on my personal experience, so feel free to disagree.

That said, these two factors—class and gender—pretty much guaranteed I wouldn't like "Daddio".

I still watched it, though, because Dakota Johnson stars in it, and I've liked her ever since she led the "Fifty Shades" series. Of course, that can lead to a whole other extreme, making girls swear off any "alpha males".

"Daddio" follows the path of a low-budget film, the kind with only two main actors, set in a single location, with lots of dialogue driving the story. The basic plot is that a young Girlie (played by Dakota) arrives at JFK Airport late at night and hops into a random cab. The driver, Clark (played by Sean Penn), is someone who's seen it all in life. These two strangers start discussing everything from careers to love to life itself in the cramped space, with a particular focus on Girlie's toxic relationship with a married man. By the end of the ride, Girlie unexpectedly finds herself healed.

Essentially, it's the story of a woman and her three "dads." The first "dad" isn't her biological father—they were separated when she was very young—but she still holds on to some expectations and memories of him. The second "dad" is her current lover, a married man with two kids, whom she calls "Daddio." She even tells him she loves him, but all he wants is a sexual relationship. The third "dad" is the cab driver she meets, who somehow plays the role of a guiding father during this short journey.

"Daddio" has good intentions, though. It explores womens' "daddy issues," shows the complexity of human relationships, and tries to convey that a chance encounter with a stranger can change your life. In an age where we're all so isolated by our phones and the internet, this is a warm reminder. If you watch closely and use your imagination, you might even discover an unbelievable subplot: Clark could be Girlie's long-lost biological father! Based on their conversation, her mother had a fling with a cab driver years ago under similar circumstances—a clever dramatic coincidence.

I can imagine how this story might have stood out ten years ago. The writers probably chuckled to themselves at night, thinking, "I'm a genius!" But now? Now, it just feels so out of touch, even though it was made by female creators. How surprising—it was actually made by women.

I felt disgusted the the whole time I was watching it. Clark's crude language, his aggressive demeanor, and the barrage of offensive remarks all piled up, forming a layer of pseudo-philosophical but deeply misogynistic pressure on Girlie. Sean Penn's performance constantly gave me the sense that he was going to do something bad to this girl.

There's a scene where Clark tries to relieve himself in a water bottle in the car, but Girlie stops him, so he gets out to pee. This moment made me particularly uncomfortable, even angry. If you argue that at least the female passenger has stopped him and clearly expressed that it wasn't okay, and that the male driver ultimately respected her wishes, I'd ask: Why don't we question how he dared to make such a move in the first place? Why is it that men so often feel entitled to make such offensive gestures until some woman who can't stand it speaks up—and more often than not, women just silently endure it?

After Clark and Girlie's relationship softens, Clark opens a small glass window separating the front and back seats. My first reaction was fear. What if he tries to hurt her? How could she escape? Of course, the plot doesn't go that way. I don't know what's wrong with me, but maybe the problem isn't with me. After all, we live in a society where there are countless cases of male cab drivers harming female passengers.

I've encountered many male drivers who, when faced with bad traffic or being cut off, get irritable. Sure, it's normal to feel annoyed, but their irritability often turns into unrestrained aggression—honking the horn nonstop, cursing, or suddenly speeding up, completely disregarding the feelings of the female passenger at the back. I even suspect that they feel emboldened because they're driving a woman, which makes them act even more recklessly. And then there's the type of driver who loves to chat you up, prying into your personal life—your job, income, relationships. Maybe they're just clueless about boundaries, or maybe they have an ulterior motive. They mask their intentions with friendliness, but while you're talking, they're secretly taking the long way around to rack up the fare.

As uncomfortable as I felt, I have to admit that "Daddio" is, in some ways, very realistic. Like, conversations between men and women are often laced with sexual innuendos, and it's almost always the man who starts it—whenever Girlie tries to have a deeper emotional conversation, Daddio's response is either a photo of his genitals or some flirty comment. It reminds me of this dark joke online: after a region was hit by a flood or earthquake, a guy messages a girl from that area. He starts by offering comforting words, and just when she is touched, he adds, "I'd love to * you from behind." But the darkest part? This isn't just a joke—it's real.

"Daddio" gives off a vibe that makes it no wonder people say men either want to sleep with you or be your daddy—or worse, both.

In real life, I'd rather jump out of the car if I ever encountered a driver like Clark. But beyond the discomfort this film evokes by bringing to mind the numerous true crimes that happen in taxis, what puzzles me more is why women continue to tolerate such offenses—and why female creators are still producing these "daddy" roles.