Caspar Llewellyn Smith hjá The Guardian skrifar um Hrúta Gríms Hákonarsonar frá Telluride hátíðinni. Smith gefur henni þrjár stjörnur af fimm, segir hana skemmtilega og minna á Íslendingasögurnar.
Smith segir m.a.:
Cinemagoers: buckle up, because what follows is a white-knuckle ride.
Or maybe not. In fact, writer-director Grímur Hákonarson doesn’t even milk the ready laughs you might expect of this potentially darkly comic scenario: the humour that remains feels bone-dry. But Rams is as curiously captivating as the bleak landscape in which the two protagonists site themselves.
The twist in the plot is that Gummi might really be the more troublesome neighbour, and in this realisation comes the point at which the brothers rediscovers what it is that binds them: the livestock and the land, and the centuries of weathered knowledge and meaning that comes with that. In driving at such essentials in a brutal fashion that still amuses, Rams feels of a piece with any 13th-century Icelandic saga, and makes engaging viewing.