HOT MILK. Lost Souls [REVIEW]

A scorching Spanish summer, lazy afternoons spent by the sea, an escape from the problems that have plagued young, ambitious anthropologist Sofia (Emma Mackey) and her paralyzed mother, Rose (Fiona Shaw), for years. A change of environment and a new therapeutic method from a local specialist are meant to help not only in uncovering Rose’s precise diagnosis but also in cleansing the deep-seated family traumas that could be a key element in her ongoing medical journey. However, it quickly becomes evident that even the most dreamlike, idyllic, and picturesque setting cannot prevent the emotional hurricane that threatens to forever alter the already complicated relationship between mother and daughter. Read our review of Hot Milk.

Rebecca Lenkiewicz, a pioneer in crafting feminist narratives, paints a compelling portrait of turbulent and ambiguous familial love in her feature-length debut—a love that will sooner or later force young Sofia to confront her own desires and uncertain future. For Emma Mackey, Hot Milk is her first fully independent project after starring in mainstream hits like Sex Education and Barbie. In this role, she delivers the most mysterious and enigmatic performance of her career, resisting any clear-cut labels for her character—a stark contrast to her exceptionally caustic, passive-aggressive mother.

At first, we meet Mackey’s character as a dutiful daughter, compelled to care for her disabled mother. Later, she appears as a lost young adult, who at times seems to use her mother’s illness as an excuse for her own professional crisis. Finally, she transforms into a sensual lover, desperately searching for true love in a fleeting romance—an idea that stands no chance of becoming a lasting emotion. Burdened by an almost “inherited” trauma, Sofia faces a crucial moment where, for the first time, she has the chance to decide what she truly wants. Is ingratitude and entitlement all she will receive in the coming years of caring for her mother? Will she ever be able to truly love if she has never experienced it from her own parents? And what if this emotional tug-of-war and their family secrets lead both women to tragedy?

Lenkiewicz, known for scripting She Said—a response to the #MeToo movement—and Disobedience, which explores lesbian love in an Orthodox Jewish community, now tackles an exceptionally personal theme. Sofia and Rose’s story is a reflection of the director’s own experience—her father, after years of suffering, chose to take his own life. The brilliant Fiona Shaw portrays Rose, a woman who, for reasons unknown, refuses to reveal her family’s secrets and grows increasingly resentful toward everything and everyone around her, including her only daughter, from whom she constantly demands perfection and obedience. Meanwhile, Sofia herself is still uncertain about what she wants from life. Will her summer affair with Ingrid (Vicky Krieps), an older woman with her own traumas, offer an escape from everyday struggles, or will it only deepen her already shattered sense of self-worth?

The acting trio of Mackey, Shaw, and Krieps is nothing short of explosive—sensual, subtle, and undeniably hypnotic. Each character, from her own uniquely complex perspective, presents a different definition of love, loss, loyalty, and codependency. Lenkiewicz refuses to confine her protagonists to specific archetypes, instead delving into their hidden motivations, sexuality, and—suggested even by the film’s title—their addiction to a toxic parental bond.

The pacing and heavy reliance on ambiguity are where Lenkiewicz’s directorial debut falters. Despite the outstanding dramatic performances—particularly from Fiona Shaw, for whom Hot Milk is surprisingly her first festival feature—the anticipated emotional explosion never quite lands as expected. The long-awaited triumph of independence and Sofia’s escape from her mother’s grasp, which occupies the film’s final moments, leaves a sense of unfulfillment. For over half the runtime, we are enchanted by the mystery of the scorching summer and the intensity of the performances, only to be left either surprised or simply disappointed by an abrupt ending that provokes extreme reactions and leaves ample room for interpretation regarding the battle between dependency and freedom.

Hot Milk captivates with its pervasive symbolism and poses crucial questions about the right to determine one’s own exit from life. Through a nearly fairytale-like narrative structure, Lenkiewicz crafts a powerful feminist manifesto—Sofia, who has only ever experienced rejection, deceit, and betrayal, learns to take her first steps as an independent, liberated woman. But where has this emotionally charged, abruptly cut-off moment led her? To Lenkiewicz, that no longer seems to matter. Because, at last, her lost soul has found its place.