Movie Review — Hot Milk. On the Ease of Blaming Others

This movie isn’t very well-liked. Many people say it has a slow pace, a cliché storyline, and an ambiguous ending that leaves them frustrated. But I experienced something different. I found myself able to step into the main character’s state of mind, to feel how she reacts to things, and to empathize with her.

I think most people interpret the film the wrong way. You might say I’m over-interpreting it, but for me, the movie raises questions about generational differences. Even her mother — just like my own parents — cannot really understand her. This feels like such a current problem among young people, especially those with well-educated parents. We often feel “lost in translation.” It’s not that we disagree only on ideas; we cannot even speak the same language as our parents anymore. To me, this was the true idea of the film.

At the very beginning, the movie caught my attention with a quote from Louise Bourgeois:

I have been to hell and back. And let me tell you, it was wonderful.

This line already sets the tone. It suggests that life itself is both painful and beautiful. It reminded me of Brahman philosophy: the idea that the world is itself a kind of hell, a place we return to again and again.

Soon after, we see Rose — the mother — asking about marriage, then commenting that men are unbearable, followed by a scene of a couple quarreling. I’m not sure why the director chose to present it in such a minimal, almost portrait-like style, with very few camera angle changes. It feels closer to real life than cinema.

Later, Sofia (the main character) is shown watching a series of videos: first a documentary about anemones, then a film of a Balinese trance dance, then something resembling a YouTube family monologue, and finally another movie. I kept wondering why the director selected these particular things for her to watch.

I also noticed something else: almost everyone in this film smokes. That made me wonder. Since Sofia is a lesbian, I thought about how many lesbians I’ve known also smoke. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but here it feels symbolic — a kind of sign of strength. It reminded me of Edward Bernays’ cigarette advertisements, where smoking was deliberately marketed as a symbol of female power. Smoking is, of course, harmful, but in this film, it seems to carry that same symbolic weight.

As the story unfolds, her mother’s hypochondria becomes central. This reminded me of Molière’s Le Malade imaginaire. Watching her made me angry. She constantly blames Sofia, telling her she’s a failure — that she couldn’t pass her driver’s exam, that she’s just like her father, that anthropology isn’t a real career. At one point she even pressures Sofia into confronting a neighbor who mistreats his dog. Sofia goes as far as taking a knife to rescue it.

This dynamic, for me, is where the movie’s real theme emerges: generational conflict. Parents often expect too much from us, yet do little themselves. They endure; we fight. That, I think, is the core message of Hot Milk.

Then comes the girlfriend, Ingrid. Their relationship confused me at times. Even though Sofia knows Ingrid has a boyfriend or some kind of open arrangement, she still allows herself to fall into a triangle. It made me reflect on the relationships I’ve seen in my own life. Our generation experiments with new identities and orientations, but often we’re still stuck in old relational frameworks — marriage, divorce, cheating. The world is changing fast, but we haven’t yet learned how to create new ways of relating.

Throughout the film, Sofia faces situations that her parents’ generation could never understand. She wanders, experiments, and struggles. As the movie nears its end, things begin to dissolve — both her generational conflict and her relationship questions. I don’t want to spoil the details, but I found the resolution powerful.

Her parents’ generation may be full of trauma, but they mostly chose endurance over change. We, on the other hand, still have the possibility to choose. And that is the movie’s lasting message for me:
“You can choose.”

In the end, it’s not about what others expect, or about repeating the endurance of the past. It’s about making your own choice.

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