Faithfully remaking a movie can serve as a kind of controlled experiment, revealing what happens if one seemingly insignificant element gets replaced by another. In terms of narrative, there’s very little difference between the original version of Rams (a prizewinner at Cannes 2015) and its new, English-language variant from director Jeremy Sims. The latter follows the former beat by beat for the most part, even re-creating some of the same shots. Nonetheless, a quick glance is enough to determine which version you’re watching, because Iceland and Australia look nothing alike. Rams was initially conceived as taking place in a bleak, frigid environment, and that frostiness turns out to have been intrinsic to its flinty appeal. Transposed to Western Australia’s much warmer climes, the same story feels less elemental, and consequently a whole lot more sentimental.
Still, Grímur Hákonarson’s basic premise, adapted here by Jules Duncan, remains enticing. Despite living just yards away from each other, elderly brothers Colin (Sam Neill) and Les (Michael Caton) haven’t spoken in some 40 years, both men tenderly nursing resentment from some long-ago, never-specified rift. They jointly inherited a sheep farm, and regularly place first and second in their region’s prize ram competition, which only fuels their mutual hatred. Disaster strikes, however, when Colin discovers that one of his sheep has somehow contracted Ovine Johne’s disease (OJD), a fatal and extremely contagious infection of the small intestine. (Oddly, this has been modified from the original film’s diagnosis of scrapie, even as the characters repeatedly point out that OJD has never been seen in Australia.) To contain the outbreak, both men’s entire flocks of the same rare breed must be euthanized. Blaming Colin for having reported his case, Les is even more furious than usual—and that’s before he discovers that Colin, who couldn’t bear to let the family lineage perish, is hiding three ewes and a ram in his house.
Even ignoring the change in climate, this version of Rams isn’t quite as dryly funny as its predecessor, mostly because Sims lacks Hákonarson’s formal exactitude. Toward the middle of both films, one of the brothers drinks himself into a near coma, forcing the other to seek medical care for him; the joke is that he’s transported to the hospital in a tractor’s shovel and unceremoniously dumped at the entrance. Hákonarson captures this marvelous gag from a poker-faced distance, in one unbroken shot, and carefully places two doctors or nurses in the background to watch what happens in disbelief and then rush to the drunken brother’s aid. Sims chooses a closer (and hence less detached) angle, cuts to another angle for unnecessary emphasis when Les rolls out of the shovel arm onto the ground, and has a nurse finally appear only after Colin drives away. Same fundamental idea, weaker execution.
A few changes are welcome: Sims has dispensed with the original’s comic fixation on geriatric male nudity, which always felt too cute, and there’s a more significant female presence here in the form of Kat (Miranda Richardson), a vet with a crush on Colin (though this quasi-romantic subplot adds nearly half an hour to the 2015 film’s brisk 93 minutes). Mostly, though, it becomes increasingly clear that the brothers’ chilly, forbidding relationship requires gray skies and copious slush to match. Western Australia’s sunny, arid expanse makes Colin and Les’ endless, pointless rivalry seem small and petty, rather than deeply rooted in the landscape itself.
The sense of futility is lost, forcing Neill and Caton to compensate by pitching their performances at a broader level instead of letting sheer cragginess do the heavy lifting. What’s more, the first film’s superb, unexpectedly tender conclusion was predicated on the danger of freezing to death in a blizzard. Smoke inhalation from a wildfire—apparently the best substitution anyone came up with for a location where it virtually never snows—doesn’t achieve remotely the same effect. Those who haven’t seen Hákonarson’s Rams may not know what they’re missing. Those who have will be left cold.
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should make the time to see this, if only because I don’t watch enough Australiana. Wildfires are a serious issue in Australia, on par with snowstorms in colder climates. We’re a hot, dry climate, and the vegetation is dependent on fire for renewal, so in the summer months even a stray spark can affect broad swatches of country and town communities. Smoke inhalation is the least of their worries.
I’ve seen the original Iceland movie, and this strikes me as a really, really bad way to translate the final scene to Australia. There are much, much better options but this seems like a lazy one. “Blizzard in Iceland, so we’d better have a bushfire in Australia.” Never mind that a bushfire is never going to create the right environment for that great last scene.
will find a copy of the original. Thoughts for those affected in Wooroloo.
1. The original Icelandic Rams is I think worth watching, especially as it has a handful of fantastic scenes. It’s plenty flawed, but in a good way.2. Yes, it’s bushfire season again here in Australia. Wooroloo has copped it this year. No lives lost, fortunately, but 59 homes destroyed is still devastating, especially for a town of less than 3000 people.
The best Australiana comes from the 70s and 80s. Not so much now.
Despite living just yards away from each other, elderly brothers Colin (Sam Neill) and Les (Michael Caton) haven’t spoken in some 40 years, both men tenderly nursing resentment from some long-ago, never-specified rift.Recently, on Disney+, I rewatched “The Boys: The Sherman Brothers’ Story,” a terrific documentary. Richard and Robert Sherman were the songwriters for “Mary Poppins” and a number of other Disney classics, plus some non-Disney films as well. At some point, they had a falling out — they continued to work successfully together as songwriters, but they, and their families, had nothing else to do with each other. Two of their sons happened to meet at a premiere of a stage production in London and began to discuss the bizarre nature of the family dynamic, which led to them producing the documentary about their fathers. Highly recommended.
“Hákonarson captures this marvelous gag from a poker-faced distance, in one unbroken shot, and carefully places two doctors or nurses in the background to watch what happens in disbelief and then rush to the drunken brother’s aid. Sims chooses a closer (and hence less detached) angle, cuts to another angle for unnecessary emphasis when Les rolls out of the shovel arm onto the ground, and has a nurse finally appear only after Colin drives away. Same fundamental idea, weaker execution.”Interesting breakdown! I wonder which reviewer is coming out in favor of the lengthy single take *looks at byline* holy shit. Holy SHIT.
Ah, this reveals that some folks don’t understand my position. The beef is with extravagantly choreographed shots that call attention to themselves. I’ve never had any issue with lengthy shots from a fixed camera à la Tsai Ming-liang, Roy Andersson, Elia Suleiman, any number of faves.
you can’t have a beef – the movie is about sheep. sorry, i couldn’t think of mutton better to say.
Also it’s an unbroken shot, but hardly a long one. It’s the time it takes to drive the tractor into the hospital car park, drop the brother out of the shovel, and drive off. And as you say, it’s not an attention-grabbing circus act, it’s a very simple static shot.
Oh I know, the original Scenic Route lays out the distinction well. I just wanted to goof on the shitstorm that resulted.
I feel it’s worth pointing out that, roughly a year ago, Australians in major cities couldn’t go outside because the air was toxic with smoke from bushfires hundreds of kilometres away. We had to buy a bunch of face masks to deal with the smoke. Then, when COVID hit, we had to buy a bunch of different masks because the bushfire ones wouldn’t work.
I’m not pissed about it or anything of the sort. It probably doesn’t achieve the same effect. But, just for some local context, it is genuinely some seriously deadly shit.
Sam Neill’s hair can turn gray all it wants. His face is made of craggy Australian sandstone and will never change.
Craggy Kiwi sandstone to be precise.
DAMMIT you’re right, but the man’s face will still outlive us all.
Well I for one have seen the Icelandic version, and therefore have no need to see this one, even though Sam Neill is always terrific. Smoke inhalation? Really?
When I went to see this in the cinema (in Sydney, Australia) I didn’t know that it was a remake and thought that it was another quirky local comedy (that looked okay in the trailers). Literally as the film started my companion turned to me and said, “… and it’s a remake of a critically acclaimed Icelandic art-house film” … my heart dropped! Why hadn’t I seen the original first? And why didn’t she tell me this when you suggested that we go see this film in the cinema? I did quite quite enjoy the film though – although didn’t enjoy the anti-Merino bias that the farmers were pushing (I’ve spent a bit of time on sheep stations and the Merino sheep is the best sheep). I did see the original later and agree that it’s a superior film.