Rebecca Lenkiewicz's directorial debut, Hot Milk (2025), based on Deborah Levy's novel, is a compelling and often darkly humorous exploration of the challenges of emotional expression and the search for genuine connection. Set against the scorching heat of a Spanish (though filmed in Greece) summer, the film follows Rose (Fiona Shaw) and her daughter Sofia (Emma Mackey) as they seek treatment for Rose's psychosomatic illness. But the sun-drenched town of Almería becomes a catalyst for Sofia, trapped by her mother's condition, as she navigates complex relationships and confronts her own desires.
Hot Milk delves into the intricacies of emotional suppression, particularly in Sofia's case. While deeply emotional, Sofia struggles to express and fully experience her feelings. This is sharply contrasted by her new acquaintance, a young German woman whose outward emotional expression initially seems liberating. However, as their connection develops (or rather, fails to develop into a genuine relationship), the German woman's emotional landscape reveals a superficiality, a quickness to move from one partner to the next without establishing real emotional depth. She embodies a series of clichés about Germany and Berlin, further highlighting the shallowness of her character. This juxtaposition underscores Sofia's yearning for something more profound.
One of the key elements of Sofia's rebellion against her mother, Rose, unfolds after a dinner with the enigmatic healer, Gómez. Rose, a hypochondriac prone to anxiety, claims an allergy to fish. Sofia impulsively uses this cue in a following subtle act of defiance and rebellion, stealing fish from the market and making a smelly surprise for Rose. This rationally unnecessary risky theft aligns with her other chaotic outbreaks, like random sexual encounter, driven by a deep need to break free from her constraints. Probably the most emotionally charged scenes happens when Sofia experiences a small but significant breakdown triggered by the incessant barking of a neighbor's dog, which ends up in a knife attack on the dog owner, revealing the simmering rage beneath her controlled exterior.
Shaw and Mackey deliver powerful and nuanced performances, capturing the complex emotions of their characters with raw intensity. Their interactions are electric, the tension between them almost palpable. You feel their pain, their frustration, and their fleeting moments of connection. The pacing of Hot Milk is perfectly calibrated, allowing the emotional undercurrents to build and then erupt in bursts of intensity. The film's setting, though nominally Spain, is visually transformed into a parched, sun-baked Greece, further emphasizing Sofia's isolation and the simmering tensions within her.
Hot Milk definitely deserves recognition as a compelling and insightful exploration of the complexities of human connection, the struggle for self-expression, and the messy, often painful process of breaking free from paralyzing toxic attachments and past stories.
Its open end invites the viewers to stop following the script and make their own decision.
