X

Join or Sign In

Sign in to customize your TV listings

Continue with Facebook Continue with email

By joining TV Guide, you agree to our Terms of Use and acknowledge the data practices in our Privacy Policy.

Milk Money Reviews

Commencing with juvenile barf and fart jokes over its credits, this execrable film sinks ever lower as its dirty joke of a plot unfolds. Sadly, MILK MONEY may well represent prevailing Hollywood notions of what constitutes family fare--a concept comedy in which a kid tries to fix up his dad with a lovable prostitute. Three cute, curious youngsters--Frank Wheeler (Michael Patrick Carter) and his buddies Kevin (Brian Christopher) and Brad (Adam LaVorgna)--pool their allowances and bicycle to the big city. They're out to find a streetwalker willing to flash her wares for a hundred bucks. Enter heart-of-gold prostie V (Melanie Griffith)--it's short for Eve--who foils an attempted robbery of the trio. Later, after baring her breasts to the boys, she quarrels with her pimp, Cash (Casey Siemaszko), and steals his car for a joyride. Meanwhile, the boys have lost their bikes and are hitch-hiking back home; V offers them a lift. She's a bit taken aback when the car conks out in front of the house Frank shares with his dad, Tom (Ed Harris). Absorbed in his one-man mission to save local marshlands, Tom is too distracted to question Frank's assertion that V is his new math tutor. V embraces life in suburbia until she learns that Cash has been murdered by crime kingpin Waltzer (Malcolm McDowell), who believes that V absconded with $250,000 that Cash stole from him. While Tom bonds with his son's surrogate mommy, a married ex-client of V's tips off Waltzer about V's whereabouts. After crashing the junior high dance, Waltzer pursues V and the three youngsters in a high-speed chase which culminates in Waltzer's arrest. V appropriates Waltzer's missing money for herself and bids adieu to the skin trade. She uses her nest egg to save the wetlands and buy a local ice cream parlor so she can pursue her courtship with the absent-minded professor. This sleazy escapism contains no graphic violence or offensive profanity, yet it's obscene at its core. In its cynical attempt to marry domestic comedy with PRETTY WOMAN's hooker Cinderella concept, MILK MONEY places children in places where, morally speaking, they just shouldn't be. Juvenile sexual curiosity is played for leering laughter, and maybe only a pedophile could appreciate the humor of three tykes pedaling off to ogle a streetwalker in the flesh. Badly served by her deal at Disney Studios (which also saddled her with a pointless remake of BORN YESTERDAY), the charming Griffith is ravishingly photographed but hung out to dry by witless, exploitative writing. One scene in particular--V visits Frank's schoolroom in a flesh-colored body stocking so that Frank can illustrate the reproductive process by drawing on her torso--may represent a new low in Hollywood's near-clinical objectification of women's bodies. Talk about show and tell! Predictably overproduced and decked out with the requisite soundtrack of oldies, MILK MONEY proves that sexual intercourse for pay isn't the only form of prostitution popular in 90s Hollywood. (Profanity, violence.)