16/02/2025 - BERLINALE 2025: The British filmmaker discusses the importance of ambivalence, love and metaphors in her directorial debut

(© Dario Caruso/Cineuropa)

Acclaimed screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz has made her directorial debut with Hot Milk [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Rebecca Lenkiewicz
film profile], a captivating adaptation of Deborah Levy’s book of the same name. The film stars Emma Mackey as 25-year-old Sofia and Fiona Shaw as her immobilised mother, Rose, on a trip to the Spanish seaside seeking healing, where they meet the enigmatic Ingrid (Vicky Krieps). Cineuropa talked to the director shortly after the film’s premiere in the Berlinale’s Main Competition.

Cineuropa: What role does ambivalence play for you, as a storyteller?
Rebecca Lenkiewicz: Well, it excites me because in that case, nothing's closed or concrete. We live in a world where a lot is literal, and so it's beautiful to ascend and fly. Ambiguity is about choice, and I think that's beautiful.

Deborah Levy’s book doesn’t rely on a conflict-resolution structure, but how did you approach the challenge of representing such ambivalence in a cinematic way?
I suppose there are metaphors in the book that translate beautifully to the screen. For example, in the book, there are those mentions of the dog that won't stop barking: in the film, you can represent it sonically with a bark that is always there. And the dog, to me, is just Sofia, who has changed and feels shackled; she wants to get away, and there's this co-dependence [with her mother]. Silence can be very ambivalent as well, and the actors in the film are so brilliant when expressing that: you can watch their faces but never be quite sure how to read them in their silence. You follow them, but there's nothing [in their words] that will be absolutely conclusive, and that gives you space to just enjoy pondering what they might be thinking of.

There’s exteriorisation, but not through words: all of the characters seem to be unable to articulate important things. How did you, as a director, work with the actors to get the balance right?
I would go to Fiona Shaw’s house, and we would talk a lot about the script and her character, who also talks more in the film. For the role of Sofia, who observes and takes it all in, it was about finding her voice. Emma and I only had one day by ourselves to talk, and then we did more on set. She is a sort of forensic actor: she would know where she was psychologically, but she might ask a small question, like “How prevalent is the love affair in Sofia’s mind at this point, or is it not at all?” I never really had to direct her or say, “Can you think this?” or “Can you do that?” There was a lot of freedom with the actors: while the camera was fixed, they had space to move and explore. Silence has always interested me; I write a lot of theatre, and people think plays are all words, but like you said, being inarticulate is far more interesting than being articulate because you have to pull something out, to excavate and interrogate, and that's where it becomes fascinating [to me].

How did you build the film’s rhythm between longer takes and rapid cuts together with the cinematographer and the editor? It contracts and blows up those concealed emotions.
DoP Christopher [Blauvelt] and I talked about “being muscular”; we wanted [the film] to be minimal and muscular. We also discussed how to arrive at close-ups and how touching it is to see someone’s face up close if you've seen them only from a distance many times. I chose Mark [Towns] because I thought we would be quite different, and differences can be really great when you’re making something. Then, the rhythm was informed by the sound design and the music: I wanted Matthew Herbert to do something kind of strange – romantic in some places, but still strange.

Your film has an epigraph that’s different from that of the book. Why Louise Bourgeois?
It was an homage to a woman artist who did everything and worked into her nineties, against all odds. But that quote [“I've been to hell and back, and let me tell you, it was wonderful”] felt like the relationship between Sofia and Ingrid. The pain we go through sometimes creates an alchemy that can become release or self-realisation, but we don't know that at the time. So, it was just about love and how hellish love can be. But we'd still willingly go through it, feel it and find healing.