Hot Milk (2025): review

I was looking forward to Hot Milk because it promised exactly the things that interest me: scorching heat, psychological tension, a mother-daughter relationship and a coming-of-age story with a trace of eroticism and madness. What emerged was a mixture of intense moments, empty stylistic ambition and emotional emptiness.

Sofia and Rose in southern Spain

Emma Mackey plays Sofia, who travels to southern Spain with her mother Rose, played by Fiona Shaw. Rose uses a wheelchair because of a mysterious illness and seeks help from the questionable Dr Gómez. After years of sacrificing herself for her mother, Sofia begins to lose her bearings. Sun, beach and the fascinating Ingrid unsettle her and may bring her into contact with herself for the first time. Instead of liberation, however, everything becomes more diffuse.

Large themes, too little development

The intriguing idea is to place these characters in a fiercely hot, almost surreal space. The sun is not healing; it magnifies what has been repressed. Yet what sounds promising on paper is often pale on screen. The film feels like a novel of which only every third chapter has been adapted. Power, dependency, identity and the body are clearly its subjects, but too much remains merely suggested or half-developed.

Fiona Shaw at the centre

Fiona Shaw is unquestionably the emotional centre. Her performance is sharp, bitter, sometimes funny and always vulnerable. She embodies a woman who also uses illness as a means of power, a fascinating contradiction. Mackey plays with restrained anger and delicate vulnerability, but Sofia remains strangely difficult to grasp. We sense the desire to break free; the development feels more like a mood board than a convincing progression. The scenes with Vicky Krieps as Ingrid, intended to awaken Sofia's sensuality, should electrify but remain oddly weak. I watch with interest and feel very little.

Strong images without emotional momentum

The direction gets several things right. The images are strong, the colours overheated, and the sea inviting yet threatening. Glances, pauses and suggestions can be appealing. When they are almost all that happens, though, the approach becomes tiring. Even at less than a hundred minutes, the film drags. It lacks emotional momentum. Instead of connecting with the characters, I remain outside: the pain is there, but I do not feel it.

Beauty without heart

Ultimately, Hot Milk is a beautiful film about large themes that never really takes hold. It wants to be more than a drama: poetic, mysterious, physical and political. In trying to be everything, it ends up being too little. What is missing is heart, or perhaps the courage to make the pain truly felt.

Verdict

I can recommend it only with reservations. Viewers looking for a visually interesting, slowly told arthouse journey, and willing to fill its gaps themselves, may find something here. Those wanting real emotional force, clear character development and coherent storytelling are likely to be disappointed. For me, it is more a stylistic exercise than a cinematic experience: a film that promises to burn but only glows lukewarm.