The company Pink Eiga is the premiere American based company dedicated on producing modern Japanese Pink films in the United States. Much like the Roman(tic) Porno films from the late seventies and early eighties, these erotic films follow much of the same formula. In fact their three most identifiable characteristics are still very much evident onscreen. For one thing each feature is about an hour in length, there is a sex scene at least every ten minutes, and perhaps most recognizable of all, there is no visible depictions of pubic hair anywhere onscreen which is in strict accordance with Japanese censorship laws. Perhaps another visible and ubiquitous facet that every Pink Eiga (film) must have is the fact that they are very aggressive, exploitative, often abusive in tone and always more than a little absurdist; (bat shit crazy) which is a cultural nuance that is a common element of nearly all Japanese erotic media forms. Let us “Milk the Maid” and see if all that calcium will help our bones grow.
Despite the title of this, I want you to know that this isn’t a Japanese fetish film involving lactation philia but the story of a Milk, a “Baby Angel”. Of course she is. Why not? It would be easier to describe this film as “MARY POPPINS”, filmed in Japan rather than England starring a household worker that doesn’t sing, perform magic or reform children but in fact seduces the son and fathers of the household and counsels them on their screwed up romantic relationships, actually offering them relationship advice in bed, after she seduces them. And then the analogy starts to degrade a bit…Is Milk a real angel or a fraud? I suppose that answer comes soon enough after a torrid sex scene involving her and the teenage son of the household where afterward he turns to Milk, and asks her to “take him to heaven”…speaking allegorically. She immediately touches him and holds his soul a brief time in her hand, “killing him” as he is next shown stumbling bewildered, wide-eyed, and walking through the gates of heaven -though only for a moment as she soon returns his soul to him after studying it in her hand for a few moments with innocent fascination. While this seems like a terrible, literally “mean spirited” thing to do to someone, Milk the angel is gifted with the omnipresent innocence of a child as well as the body of a teenage burlesque dancer and she often uses both to drive the males of the house to instant, spontaneous nosebleeds by refusing to wear any clothes whatsoever below her apron while wacky vaudeville marching themes play, (complete with slide whistles). I suppose it all sounds very juvenile, stupid and low rent until you see what she looks like without clothes…an image so unspeakably youthful, beautiful and nubile that it always somehow justifies itself onscreen and gives new meaning to “divinity” if not leaving no blood left in your brain for critical thought.
The most shocking moment of all however are the final moments, just when you are ready to discount this film as another goofy, low rent, hypersexualized pink cinema experiment in simulated sex and meaningless low brow goofiness for the sake of itself, and this movie does the most awesome and unconventional thing, Milk the Angel actually saves the family, completes her mission and helps every other character achieve a complex, tightly scripted, storybook ending where everyone finally receives the understanding, love and harmony they have been seeking all along will actually make you feel happy for them at the end….Only then will you realize that Milk was actually somehow a well-crafted character who was everything the family needed all along and all of this somehow actually made coherent sense…
Predictably, at this point in the film, Milk admits that she is not just a baby angel but she can also assume the physical form of an ordinary housecat.
Again, why not?
This would be a good starting point for any sensible person interested in their first pink cinema; the film is just simply “adorable”. And that is a word I don’t think I have used before in a review.
Extras include a photo gallery and two brief documentaries about the making of Pink Cinema which were incredibly informative and expanded my own knowledge and also those shitty red envelopes which I hate and must deduct some points for; because I believe “Milk” should be sold in a proper “carton”.