A Ovelha Negra

Just a week ago I saw 'Fúsi' which was about an overweight person with the mind of a child. And now another excellent Icelandic movie that centres on the livestock farmers. One of the best movie about the farmers I have seen. It is not all about their farms, but the love and dedication towards their work. About the art of raising animals that passed through the generations who never abandoned their ancestral village to look for a better life somewhere else. But what happens when suddenly a great threat pose to their way of life that they all only known. That's what this film talk about.

This story is about two brothers Gummi and Kiddi, who have not spoken for decades. They live next door to one another in a remote village raising sheep. When one theirs ram wins a prestigious regional contest, that lead to discover a fear of scrapie epidemic, a disease that might wipe out their local breeds. After this incident, the conflict between the brothers escalates further. So what happens after the entire village lose their business to a viral infection brings a dramatic ending to the story.

This is the advantage of watching world cinemas. You will get a chance to learn a different culture and other unfamiliar stuffs. Nowadays Hollywood is about big budget and superhero movies. Small scale films like this are very occasion, but I'm missing nothing through my love to films around the globe.

I love realism films, but still this film gives a cinematic experience with the beautiful interior landscapes of Iceland. Most of the film takes place in the winter, but all the important outdoor sequences came prior to that season. Still the second half is the best part of the storytelling. After all Iceland without ice/snow is unimaginable.

"If we've scrapie in the valley, we're screwed."

The story has a small twist in the halfway mark, that you could see it coming. But the third act was so awesome, because the pace picks up and brings the unexpected ending. Yet, I was little disappointed the way it concluded. I like the details, I don't always like understandable phrase in a film's ending. Those things are effective for the movies that going have a sequel. So what I meant is the end should have been a bit more specific about what actually happens. If it is about the brothers, not the livestock, then the theme is slightly misleading with all the developments.

I was tempted to rate it close to maximum, like as I said the finale took away the fractions of my 'like' towards this wonderful drama. The lead actor from the 'Virgin Mountain' can be seen in a tiny role in a couple of scenes.

I've heard the ram that acted in this called Garpur was credited, but it was not like any special performance. The movie was very slow, but I like this kind of narration when a story demands its own time to bring anything it wanted to tell on its own perfect way. There are scenes with some dark humours, so it is a semi tragicomedy.

The initial parts, maybe the first act looks like an ordinary rural narration, but if you learn about the story and its character prior to your watch then you might feel comfortable with the pace. This film was sent to the recently concluded Oscars to represent Iceland, but failed to make into the ultimate round. Forget the American Academy Awards, this is still an excellent movie. I won't hesitate to suggest it to you all, it is a dull start, but you would feel worth watching it in the end.

8/10

Rams rests on a rather uncomplicated plot involving two brothers whose relationship can best be described as antipathetic, yet is beautifully revived over their shared endearment of their sheep. Whilst the storyline is unimaginative, the distinctive appeal of this Icelandic film-making gem, lies in what I'd term 'the hidden plot'. Rams is not about the characters, it's about their relationship with themselves, their environment and each other. It is not about the script, it is about the sentiment and meaning which embeds the words. And it is not about the desolate and barren Icelandic landscape, harsh, grim and evocative, but instead about how that setting interacts with the people, the sheep and their lives. Rams is a film of acute symbolism. The sheep are the only sings of aspiration and hope, economically and somewhat socially- speaking, in this paradoxically alluring and heart-renting part of the remote Icelandic North West. The talented cast deserves a mention. Behind your Johnny Depp's, Brad Pitt's and Vin Diesel's, lies a class of unknown, yet more authentic actors and actresses. I get the feeling I am watching a documentary on their lives on the Discovery Channel. Refreshingly alluring, Rams is a film which will make you think and question.

I had the chance to watch Hrútar / Rams in a cinema in Reykjavik after traveling for 11 days in Iceland. Watching this movie was the highlight of our 2 day long stay in Reykjavik.

During the story we get to know a world that coexists with our modern Western world and of which we know nothing: elderly brothers taking care of and working with sheep.

While one shouldn't expect a Rambo-style Hollywood action movie, the pace is good, there are dramatic and comic scenes following each other in an easily-watchable way with nice shots and great acting (one doesn't think that he watches actors but real life).

I would have loved to have more insights on the life of shepherds and know more of the antecedents but the story told in the movie is a dramatic, full story while the movie is a very well done independent-type European movie.

You don't have to have been to Iceland to appreciate Rams, but it certainly helps explicate the film's grizzled, deadpan sense of humour, or the mysterious, beguiling power resonating from their vast, otherworldly landscapes. Writer/director Grímur Hákonarson crafts a skeletally simple tale of a community of farmers caring for their sheep whose livelihood is threatened by an outbreak of Scrapie, and employs it as a parable for changing with the times, or the creative, belligerent lengths some will go to to avoid doing so.

Framed against the unyielding, jaw-dropping vistas of the Icelandic countryside, the (unexplained) conflict between the central two farmers, the spectacularly named Gummi (Sigurður Sigurjónsson) and Kiddi (Theodór Júlíusson), feels equally mythic and etched in fiery stone, with all communication done by note, or the occasional drunken gunshot. It's sometimes difficult to tell what's meant to be funny or sombre in their antics in coping with their isolation and the pending slaughter of their sheep, but Hákonarson embraces the intersection, allowing their impassive, tentative emotional ambiguity and unapologetic wackiness to tease out the tension between amusingly petulant actions and the hard life that's spawned them.

In fact, the film's main criticism is an increasing suspicion that the awe-inspiring impassivity of its stony plains and narrative alike overly inflates the sense of profundity therein. There's a primal elegance to the simplicity of Rams, but its scenario and central conflict are somewhat too familiar to not supplant with further scripting or characterization. Hákonarson's glacial pace, at first hypnotic and appropriate for the unyielding consistency of the farmers, becomes restless over time, making the film begin to feel sleepier when it should evidence an elegiac crescendo. Things perk up with a stormy and unexpectedly tender climax, but there's a larger breadth of untapped subtext which leaves the film feeling thoroughly pleasant, but flimsier than it should amidst such steadfast a landscape.

If nothing else, the film should be commended for the abilities of its cast to convey so much largely through solemn staring into the distance. Sigurður Sigurjónsson brings a craggy affability to protagonist Gummi, the crinkles of affection crawling across his normally desolate features as he caresses the wool of his prized sheep making it all the more moving as he comes to terms with the heartbreaking of their pending slaughter. As the crabbier estranged brother, Theodór Júlíusson tempers comedic blustering and haphazard nudity with an undercurrent of real hurt and loss. Both are so odd it's easy to understand how they'd connect so much easier with their sheep, but also the ferocious indignation with which they'll protect not only their individual animals, but their livelihood, lifestyle, and family legacy.

Rams, in its deliberate primal simplicity, may not offer all the answers to the questions it evokes, but in the hands of such raw,capable performers and the stunning, plaintive Icelandic vistas that Hákonarson films with such reverence, it's a deceptively engaging curiosity, and one worth weathering alongside its farmers. Just keep your clothes on, if at a public screening.

-7/10

Rams is an Icelandic saga of the highest order, not of Kings, but of the Icelandic sheep farmer. There are battles, but the opponents are nature, the struggles of human relationship, and the hardships of life. It is a saga of and for the working man, expressed and pared down like a working man's haiku, and it is breathtaking. Beyond the story, it is a visual feast. The Icelandic landscape - seen in both its green glory and its stark white glory - literally made me gasp at first. The sound of the howling, relentless winter wind touched a primal nerve in me. And as someone who has co-existed with animals for much of my life, and who has worked on farms for years, I was touched by the aphorism that you can love - truly love - your animals, and then kill them and eat them. Killing something you love is not an easy thing to do of course, but Rams is a blast of reality in that way. Sustenance and survival in the real world, people. It's not always pretty, and never packaged. Rams is harshness and it is beauty, contrasting, colliding, and intermingling, like an Icelandic landscape and an Icelandic sheep farmer's life. Ten out of ten stars.