Hot Milk

Grade: D-

Hot Milk, I learned from the end credits, is based on a book. I’m amazed it’s based on anything. It’s sure as hell not based on logic, reality, storytelling, filmmaking, entertainment, originality, or common sense. I saw it because I heard the cast and locations are nice to look at (check! – on both counts), and one of my favorite critics ranted about how he hasn’t disliked an ending in a very long time. You can’t get a buildup like that and be expected to just let it go, even if you should. I gotta see this, I thought. 

I’d be giving it too much credit by using words like “plot” and “follow.” In the plot, we follow Sofia, who is a caregiver to her much older, wheelchair-bound mother Rose. They stay at a beachfront house in Spain. One day, Sofia meets Ingrid, making a grand entrance riding up by the ocean on a horse, like you do. They immediately bond over…something. Their mutual love of cigarettes, perhaps. They sneak off and meet up for some fooling around, and Sofia becomes angry and jealous whenever she sees Ingrid with a man.

I’m really not holding anything back when it comes to the story. This is basically all that happens. Some backstory crumbs are dropped in, but they provide absolutely no color. Emma Mackey as Sofia (Barbie from Barbie, as if that narrows it down) is a fine actress – so is Vicky Krieps (Phantom Thread, The Dead Don’t Hurt) as Ingrid. Everybody does indie movie stuff for 93 minutes – the kind that makes Janet Planet look like a masterpiece. There are videos on YouTube depicting what English sounds like to people who don’t speak it. Hot Milk must be how The Florida Project played for the people who hated The Florida Project.

Now, that ending. I saw it described as repugnant and reprehensible on a moral level. That intrigued me, and I was hoping it would ramp up to some big bold blowout. It’s not even a bad ending from a standpoint of “What I wanted to happen didn’t, but at least it made me feel a strong emotion.” I hated it too, but on the same level as the rest of the film. My objection was more about the execution of it. Something is implied and hinted at, but not shown. (And I’ll go ahead and ask it: did someone not have use of their arms?) Really, though – by that point, I was taking everything I saw with a grain of salt. I’ve said all I want to say about Hot Milk. It’s an almost completely worthless, meaningless, pretentious, monotonous 90 minute dribble of cinematic diarrhea.

Grade: D-