A ‘Mountain’ of forbidden love yields a masterwork
To mark the 20th anniversary re-release of “Brokeback Mountain,” here is a reprint of my 2005 review that appeared in The Patriot Ledger:
Gay, straight, male, female, it doesn’t matter, Anne Proulx’s award-winning short story ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ is guaranteed to set the tears welling. And so it is with Ang Lee’s beautifully rendered film adaptation, which actually may be even more heartrending.
It tears you up inside, as it generates great empathy not just for the two lovers at its core, but also everyone who is part of their inner circle of friends and family. And that may be the story’s most enduring message: that the love two people share affects everyone around them. And not necessarily in a positive way, especially if those lovers are gay and living a lie.
Yes, much has been made of the risks “Brokeback Mountain’’ takes in attempting to build a mainstream love story around two Wyoming cowpokes falling for each other during a summer spent shepherding sheep atop majestic Brokeback Mountain. But except for their semi-graphic first tryst, you never really think of them as closeted homosexuals – just impassioned lovers cruelly kept apart by antiquated mores.
For that, they pay a heavy price, as do the wives and children unwittingly drawn into their taboo romance. But what are two gay cowboys to do given the times (the 1960s and ’70s) and place (Wyoming, a full three decades before Matthew Shepard was tortured and beaten to death)? They simply have no choice but to adhere to what they’ve been taught: and that’s marrying a person of the opposite sex and starting a family, all the while sacrificing true happiness.
What happens to Jake Gyllenhaal’s rodeo cowboy, Jack Twist, and Heath Ledger’s professional ranch hand, Ennis Del Mar, is profoundly sad, as each is forced to carry a torch that can only be ignited three or four times a year, and only in the secluded solitude of Brokeback Mountain.
Alas, their heartbreak is nothing compared to that felt by Jack’s wife (Anne Hathaway) and son, and Ennis’ wife (Ledger’s real-life spouse, Michelle Williams) and two daughters. A case could be made that they are in even greater pain and denial.
Sounds depressing, right? It most definitely is, but it’s also inspiring in that “Brokeback Mountain’’ proves that hardship can render love stronger, no matter if you’re gay or straight. It also makes you glad that society has loosened its moralistic grip enough to accept homosexual relationships, maybe not in Wyoming, but certainly in America’s blue states.
In that respect, ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ is invaluable as a reminder of just how backward we used to be, and in some cases, still are. But even more, it’s a testament to the power of love, be it between a father and daughter or two rugged cowboys, in tackling adversity.
It’s a lesson that carried over to the filmmakers, who encountered their own hardships in bringing ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ to the screen. It was a journey that began eight years ago when Pulitzer-winning author Larry McMurtry (‘‘Terms of Endearment,’’ ‘‘Lonesome Dove’’) and his partner, Diana Ossana, optioned Proulx’s 1997 New Yorker piece.
Since then, their script has been attached to several combinations of directors and actors, but it was Lee and his producing partner James Shamus (‘‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’’) who finally made it happen. And boy, have they made it happen. The film is nothing short of a masterpiece, both visually and narratively.
Possessing many of the same qualities as classic neo-Westerns like ‘‘Hud’’ and ‘‘The Last Picture Show’’ (both adapted from novels by McMurtry), ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ captures the rhythms of small-town Midwestern life, as well as the hopes, joys and bitter disappointments that lie within. Every frame feels hauntingly real and every wrenching emotion genuine.
Lee’s chief asset is his patience, enabling the story to gracefully unfold while allowing us to embrace the nuances in every character. You feel for each, even those on the periphery, like Ennis’ fiercely loyal teenage daughter, Alma (Kate Mara), and a taxi dancer (Linda Cardellini making a huge step up from ‘‘Scooby-Doo’’) who pays an emotional price by falling for Ennis in his later years.
Although Cardellini and Mara have relatively minor roles, both stick with you, as does an Oscar-worthy Randy Quaid as the rancher whose hiring of Jack and Ennis sets the groundwork for a Shakespearean romance that’s as epic as it is intimate. Most of the post-season hardware, however, is likely to wind up on the mantels of Gyllenhaal and especially Ledger, who gives the finest performance of his young career.
Speaking in a gravelly, almost ‘‘Sling Blade’’- like voice, Ledger’s performance is a textbook example of less is more, especially given all the melodramatic traps ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ so easily could have stumbled into.
If there’s a weakness, and it’s a small one, it’s in the failure of the makeup department to convincingly age the four principal actors over the story’s 20-year span. You hardly pay it a thought because so much else in ‘‘Brokeback Mountain’’ speaks of quality, from Lee’s precise direction to the crisp, economical writing by McMurtry and Ossana to the breathtaking cinematography by certain Oscar nominee Rodrigo Prieto (‘‘Amores Perros,’’ ‘‘Frida’’).
Yet, none can match the contributions of Ledger and Gyllenhaal, two straight actors who had to overcome personal obstacles to make their lovemaking passionate, and most of all, believable. And let’s not forget the great career risk they took in playing gay roles that 90 percent of other A-listers would never consider. Yet, they unselfishly give of themselves. The film, and we, are all the better for it. Simply put, you can’t quit it.
Movie review
Brokeback Mountain
Rated: R for sexual situations, language, nudity
Cast: Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Williams, Anne Hathaway, Randy Quaid and Linda Cardellini.
Director: Ang Lee
Writers: Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana
Runtime: 134 minutes
Where: Back in theaters on June 20
