Critic Reviews

A shaggy, appealing parable involving two lovers, some gorgeous heifers, gentle Maori gangster-golfers, and a dilapidated suitcase packed with used baby shoes, The Price of Milk throws itself onto the magic-realist sword with aplomb.

Manages to be innocent, physically passionate, earnestly romantic and self-deprecatingly funny, all at once.

Like nothing else that's played in months.

The Price of Milk, which boasts a lush classical score recorded by the Moscow Symphony Orchestra, has a few more twists that make this a Valentine's Day delight.

Full of surreal occurrences and bizarre, sometimes overly precious humor that may make it too rarefied an exercise for wide acceptance.

It's weird, wacky territory you enter in The Price of Milk, and we don't just mean New Zealand.

Easily one of the oddest romantic comedies since "My New Gun." It's also one of the most visually inventive, and if its charms very nearly defy description, it's nonetheless irresistible.

This journey is clunkily rendered, clouded by an avalanche of murky symbolism.

Fairy-tale-like musing on true love in cynical times.

This rich, gorgeous music and the wistful pastoral scenes create a rhapsodic mood that the rest of the film doesn't really sustain.