Mother-daughter bonds can be vital lifelines, but crossing the line into shackles is easy. Hot Milk (2025), written and directed by British Rebecca Lenkiewicz and adapted from the acclaimed 2016 novel of the same name by Deborah Levy, walks that razor’s edge. It explores how love, care, and filial duty can morph into dependence, control, and quiet resentment. This sun-bleached, surrealist tale of constraint and breakthrough proves that even the most binding ties can be cut with courage. A Mubi release, Hot Milk competed for the Golden Bear at the 75th Berlin International Film Festival.

• The Apple Never Falls Far From the Tree
• Motherhood as a Double-Edged Sword
• From Shadow to Self: Sofia’s Awakening
• Jellyfish Stings and Chains Unbound: The Symbolism of Hot Milk
• The Role of Setting and Sound

The Apple Never Falls Far From the Tree

After working on the screenplays for Disobedience (2017), Colette (2018), and She Said (2022), screenwriter and playwright Rebecca Lenkiewicz—whose 2008 play Her Naked Skin was the first original play by a living female writer to be staged in the Olivier Theatre at London’s Royal National Theatre—embarked on a dreamlike journey with her directorial debut, Hot Milk, carefully weaving a delicate thread between reality and dream.

Set under the scorching sun of Andalucía in southern Spain, Hot Milk follows Sofia (Emma Mackey of Sex Education), who moves with her mother, Rose (Fiona Shaw), to care for her. Rose suffers from a mysterious, phantasmal condition that has confined her to a wheelchair for over 20 years, leaving her able to walk only on rare occasions. Hopeful that an unorthodox clinic run by the charming yet unconventional Dr. Gomez (Vincent Perez) and his daughter, Julieta, will offer an effective treatment, Sofia suspends her anthropology studies and devotes herself entirely to her mother’s care.

Though classified as a drama, the story is neither loud nor overtly explicit. Its strength lies in the quiet, stifling pain of emotional codependence and the unspoken force of female rage. The erratic and elliptical narration forces the protagonists to confront each other as if through a mirror during their stay in Spain, unearthing buried memories and unspoken truths that irreversibly redefine their relationship.

Motherhood as a Double-Edged Sword

“My love for my mother is like an axe. It cuts very deep,” Sofia declares in the novel, revealing that her sense of self revolves entirely around her mother. Their roles appear almost reversed; Sofia becomes the caretaker and steady presence, while her mother remains fragile, dependent, and demanding. In this dynamic, Sofia struggles to define who she truly is, as her identity is forged in the shadow of her mother’s.

The director delivers a faithful cinematographic adaptation of the novel, delving into the deep-seated fascination with detached mother figures and the intricate, often conflictual, mother-daughter relationship dynamics. Hot Milk brings a unique perspective to this familiar narrative. It thematically intersects with Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Lost Daughter (2021), adapted from Elena Ferrante’s 2006 novel, and Greta Gerwig’s iconic 2017 film, Lady Bird.

In these works, mothers loom large as all-consuming presences that leave little room for their daughters to develop their identities. As one critic observes in The Guardian, “Space must be cleared for the daughter to suffer, individuate, and grow.” A sentiment that deeply resonates with those who have had similar experiences and pinpoints Sofia’s relentless pursuit of freedom.

From Shadow to Self: Sofia’s Awakening

Life is flexible. We can change it. But it’s always elastic, so we go back to what we grew up with.

_{Hot Milk, Rebecca Lenkiewicz}

Rebecca Lenkiewicz worked alongside cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt to visually depict this intense emotional strife. Rose dominates the frame, while Sofia lingers on its edges, at least in the film’s beginning. Existing solely to fulfill her role as daughter, Sofia rarely speaks for herself and never occupies the center of the frame. She moves only to approach her mother. However, as Sofia begins her journey of self-discovery, the tide turns. She steps out from her mother’s shadow and departs from the life she has always known. Consequently, her storyline moves to the forefront, with close-ups becoming more frequent and shots of her running becoming a recurring motif of liberation. Mark Towns’s editing enhances this evolution, reinforcing the film’s slow-paced yet surging rhythm.

Hot Milk also delves into the topic of sexual identity. Sofia meets Ingrid (Vicky Krieps), an elusive figure who awakens a desire unlike anything she has ever felt. She experiences the intimate feelings of love, jealousy, and longing for the first time. Throughout the film, Sofia’s character arc reaches remarkable heights. In an interview with Sleek magazine, the director described the storyline as a quest. An unstoppable mission in which Sofia overcomes obstacles to finally embrace, and not merely endure, her identity and life.

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Hot Milk is always too elusive and almost unsettling to find a definitive balance. It feels incredibly raw and authentic at the same time. There is often no finish line between mothers and daughters: new knots always form, keeping the bond messy yet achingly familiar.

Jellyfish Stings and Chains Unbound: The Symbolism of Hot Milk

Enveloped in a hazy atmosphere, the audience watches as Sofia begins to question and overturn her perception of reality after a lifetime of seeing it only through the eyes of others. The film punctuates this awakening with poignant symbols and metaphors that recur throughout: words acquire different meanings, pain transforms into pleasure, and shackles finally fall away.

The title is revealing, capturing the ambiguous relationship between the two protagonists. The umbilical cord remains stubbornly uncut, and maternal milk, as the director describes it, is “almost off the scale because their relationship is heated. […] something inviting and repulsive.” The sea reflects this same duality, being both seductive and menacing. Sofia cannot resist immersing herself in its depths, embracing the threats it holds, and almost yearning for the physical scars that bear witness to her traumatic experiences. She surrenders to every bad omen, most vividly the jellyfish warning, deliberately placing herself in treacherous waters because she knows the only way out is through, no matter how painful.

Medusa, the Greek mythological figure with a petrifying gaze, is a guiding light throughout the film, awakening Sofia from her dormant state. Though misunderstood as a monster, she embodies how suffering and endurance can transform into feminine power and resilience. After freeing a dog chained in place, Sofia breaks down in tears of relief. She realizes that she is finally free, released from every mental and physical cage. She is now capable of changing the course of her destiny.

The Role of Setting and Sound

Can the heat of Andalucía and the film’s soundscape be considered characters? The sun-bleached colors and hazy, dissonant melodies indeed reflect the story’s inner turmoil. Each character is eccentric, and their visual portrayal leaves the audience questioning their reality, wondering if they are emerging from the pages of Sofia’s diary, which is meticulously annotated with dreams. Matthew Herbert’s electronic soundtrack reinforces this effect, permeating the film with a sense of detachment from reality and latent danger. Herbert explains the narrative role of music: “Both the book and the script are really, really hallucinogenic, really dreamy. […] So you’re always trying to strike a balance and try to occupy a state of ambiguity. It’s very delicate trying to modulate ambiguity.”

Hot Milk is a hypnotic exploration of identity, desire, and the complexities of family relationships. Through quiet intensity and thought-provoking scenes, the film pulls the audience into Sofia’s world and draws them into her intricate web. In this way, Hot Milk becomes a profound meditation on generational trauma; the binding ties of motherhood; the daring act of escaping the shadows of the past, and a portrait of a single woman’s awakening.