(134 minutes)
Starring: Heath Ledger (Ennis), Jake Gyllenhaal
(Jack), Randy Quaid (Aquirre),
Michelle Williams (Alma), Anne Hathaway (Lureen)
Directed by: Ang Lee
Rated R for sexuality, nudity, language and mild violence.
Nominated for 7 Golden Globes.
It's the same old
love story, only different.
Brokeback
Mountain
is about the unresolved love of two people, their struggles and regrets
with the road not taken, and the pain they cause for themselves and
others in denying who they are. What's different is that the two lovers
are men, cowboys, in fact. Had this film been about a man and a woman,
it would have yawned its way into ho-humness.
But the originality and sincerity in which the story is presented makes
it a film worth watching.
Ennis Del
Mar (Ledger) and Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal)
meet in 1963 while searching for work. They are employed by crotchety
rancher Joe Aquirre (Quaid)
to protect his sheep and are sent to camp on beautiful
Brokeback
Mountain, Wyoming. When Ennis and Jack's love relationship begins, it is
as surprising to them as it is to the audience. Both men claim they're
"not queer," but we see that their communion was not just a product of
two lonely guys with booze and frigid nights atop a mountain. These men
fall for each other.
Of course, the times
and their upbringings dictate that they must keep their love a secret.
They both struggle with the shame of being "different." After they head
back down the mountain, they painfully go their separate ways and become
typical American men who marry and raise families. Four years later,
the two meet again and pick up where they left off, sustaining their
clandestine relationship throughout the years as fishing buddies. While
the film takes an unexpected turn, it does fizzle out a bit at the end.
In some ways, Brokeback
is very disturbing. Though we may think we know the people connected to
us, how well do we really know our husband, wife, son,
ourselves? There's an awful lot of pretending going on, and we see its
side-effects: the lives we destroy (even our own) when we pretend to be
someone we're not.
In
some ways, Brokeback
is very disturbing. Though we may think we know the people connected to
us, how well do we really know our husband, wife, son,
ourselves? There's an awful lot of pretending going on, and we see its
side-effects: the lives we destroy (even our own) when we pretend to be
someone we're not.
The bond between the
men develops naturally, with the unfolding of two distinct personalities
that can be summed up in their disparate religious upbringings: Jake
came from a Pentecostal upbringing and Ennis' from a Methodist. Like the
religions, one man is emotionally conservative and repressed while the
other is emotionally high-spirited.
Neither man exhibits
effeminate traits; no, these are rough-and-tough cowboys in their
Wranglers, making the characters all the more intriguing. The acting is
incredible from the major roles to the supporting roles, and Ledger's
portrayal of Ennis as a poor ranch-hand who is emotionally withdrawn at
times, yet explosive and tormented at others is phenomenal. (An
interesting bit of trivia—Ledger’s wife in the film is his “real-life”
girlfriend, too.)
Viewers can relate on
different levels. While Jack tells Ennis, "I wish I knew how to quit
you," there is that sense of frustration that most people, no matter the
sex, have felt, the frustration of not being strong enough to rid
yourself of a deep desire for someone.
The
film is based on Annie Proulx's short story,
which appeared in the New Yorker in 1997. It was adapted into a
screenplay by Larry McMurtry (author of
Lonesome Dove) and Diana Ossana.
Brokeback
is beautifully filmed, complete with brown bears and coyotes, but it is
also gloomy with its images of poverty and physical and emotional
isolation. There is a prevailing sense of discontent for life’s
circumstances that, as Ennis says, “If you can't fix it, you
gotta stand it.”
I'm not sure that
everyone will feel comfortable with this film. While we are much more
open to homosexuality than in 1963, there still remains quite a bit of
taboo. But the film is not offensive or lewd in any way; and it
withholds judgment.
Brokeback
Mountain’s
theme transcends sexual politics and is impressively handled with great
tact as well as sensitivity. The sincerity of Jack and Ennis' story
gives the characters a stickiness that will linger in your mind long
after you've left the theater. I must admit that this movie drifted in
and out of my mind all day long, as if it were a dead aunt with a
message. There is something here we can all relate to: love denied, the
path not taken, and the choices we've made that say "yes" to one person,
but "no" to another.
