Written and directed by Morgan Ingari
Starring Molly Bernard, Patrick Breen, Ava Eisensen, Robin de Jesus
Runtime: 1 hour 41 minutes
Available digitally May 21

by Audrey Callerstrom, Staff Writer

In 2021 (so far), we’ve had two films about non-traditional routes to late-life parenthood. In Together Together, a man in his 40s (Ed Helms) enlists the help of a barista in her 20s (Patti Harrison) to become his gestational surrogate. In Milkwater, the feature-length debut from Morgan Ingari, Roger (Patrick Breen, Galaxy Quest), a gay man in his 50s, longs to be a father. After two adoptions that fell through and one attempt at surrogacy that didn’t take, he wonders if it’s a sign that it was never meant to be. He’s been trying, for decades, to hold a child in his arms and call that child his own. While drunk, he shares his story with the quirky Milo (Molly Bernard, Younger), who has just left an awkward baby shower for her friend Noor (Ava Eisensen). Milo felt uncomfortable surrounded by the moms, talking as though they’re part of a club she’ll never belong to. Milo is an aspiring musician in her late 20s/early 30s, and she longs for A Bigger Purpose. He wants a kid. She figures, she has the capability, nothing better to do, and it feels good helping people. Right?

Even though Milkwater hits some familiar beats, and may have one too many montages to set to interchangeable folk songs, it’s sweet, sincere, and funny. There’s something about each moment and each character that feels recognizable, genuine. The actors look unpolished, the apartments look realistic. Milo works at a music store and used to be in a band, but, as she tells Roger, in a place like New York City, you need a lot of talent just to get a spot at an open mic. Roger spends his evenings as a drag performer named Angela Merkin at a bar called Thigh High. Milo is charmed by his rendition of Robyn’s “Dancing On My Own.” They drink tequila backstage and Milo tells him she’ll do it. She’ll be his surrogate. Later she recounts to a friend that she’s doing it, in part, because it would be a New Feeling, and she wants to feel a New Feeling. Think of how motivating that can be, feeling like you’ve already experienced everything in varying highs and lows. That’s usually indicative of a life that’s experienced a significant amount of loss.

Milo and Roger are initially very close, but they start to disagree on things. He wants to put a contract in front of her; she thought this was a favor between friends. Why won’t he respond to her texts? Why doesn’t he want to hang out? Their age difference plays a significant role in how they drift apart. He doesn’t appreciate random drop-bys. She doesn’t understand why he won’t meet her friends. In one of the film’s many standout scenes, Roger wants to read the baby poetry, including “The Consecrating Mother” by Anne Sexton, where the film gets its title from. But when Milo starts reading, Roger steps in. He wants the baby to get used to his voice. She stares at the ceiling, trying to look emotionless, as Roger reads the poem. At this moment, Milo realizes that this isn’t about her.

Ingari has a remarkable way with her actors. Either these people all met and clicked or she knew how to make each moment, each line, feel real (possibly both). This is the messy way people talk, where lines aren’t rehearsed internally before they are spoken. Where people stumble, where you can tell someone doesn’t really believe what they’re saying. Milo doesn’t mean to tell Noor that, since Noor is a lesbian who used a donor, Noor should be thanking Milo for what she’s doing for a gay man, but she does. Roger doesn’t mean to share his personal story with a young woman he just met, but he does. Milo’s fight with Noor is where the tension surrounding their life choices bubble to the surface. Milo thinks Noor is losing herself with new motherhood; Noor thinks Milo is making an impulsive decision. Milkwater is warm and heartfelt, a film about embracing uncomfortable moments and rash decisions, growing up, and letting go.