Brokeback Mountain (2005)

I saw Brokeback Mountain two days ago and it has finally become apparent to me why I felt misled while I watched it, as if I had been methodically ushered where others wanted me to go. I am now cognizant that I was distracted by the publicity campaign proclaiming that the movie is nothing more than a love story. Such wily publicity sublimely insinuates that the movie is not about gay cowboys and that it is not an issue movie, and therefore not subject to any arguments on morality.

Believe me, it is all of that, and, surprisingly, much more.

To the movies, and later, to the facts, we go.

Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal play the central characters in the fi;m. They are two gay cowboys, Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist. Ennis is a stereotypical range hand: muscular, taciturn, thin-lipped, squint-eyed, and not at all averse to working hard. He speaks with a drawl, sometimes almost inaudibly. He is engaged to his fiancée, Alma (Michelle Williams). He is content to speak as little as possible and long days in secluded places suit him just fine.

As for Jack, while not your typical “urban cowboy” (a la John Travolta) he is a cleaner cut version of the stereotypical range hand: slim, long-legged, clean-shaven, and sociable. He is a rodeo wannabe, rarely at a loss for words, or ideas. His parents didn’t teach him much of anything and so he has had to scratch and fight to earn his living. He has designs on getting back into the rodeo to earn enough to start his own family.

Both men's performances are laudable to this end and in regards to the way they handle their homosexuality.

Ledger portrays Ennis as a gay man who assesses his own sexuality as if it were a nagging chronic medical condition lacking a cure. At various times he refers to it as “this thing inside me.” Ledger acutely portrays this sensation, evidenced in Ennis’ wincing, doubled-over suffering when bearing the full brunt of his inscrutable emotions.

Gyllenhaal, who could be said to be the dress-wearer in their relationship , comes ever so close to posturing in that role. But, to his credit, with his hands on his hips, his fingers hanging onto the belt loops on his blue jeans, he falls short of gay caricature, appearing much more a heartbroken lover pining for the day when things could be different. It is his wish that he and Ennis’ “Flingtime in the Rockies” could evolve in some other place.

The two meet while applying for a job working a herd of sheep in the high country that includes Brokeback Mountain in Wyoming. It is the summer of 1963. The land is Forest Service land but rancher Joe Aguirre (Randy Quaid) is worried about losing his livestock to coyotes. He hires Ennis and Jack, giving them specific instructions that one is to remain at base camp while the other is to sleep outdoors adjacent to wherever the sheep have been herded for the night.  (It is only after Aguirre sees Jack and Ennis romping about like lovers that one understands his possible motive for wanting to keep his hired hands separated during the night time.)

As summertime rolls on the boys grow increasingly perturbed with the food rations they’ve been allotted, completely overrun on the seemingly endless supply of baked beans being sent their way by Aguirre's lackeys. Their unified opinion on the “no more baked beans” matter breaks the ice between them, providing, at least, pliable conversation starter during their shared time at the base camp. They decide, in short order, to augment their food supply by killing available game in their neck of the woods. Jack proves to be nothing of a marksman. Ennis, however, lands a ten-point buck. Together, over a nighttime campfire, the boys enjoy the venison provided by their kill.

Summer passes into fall and the boys continue to work the herd, abiding by Aguirre’s rules about night-time separation. For Ennis, abiding by the rules is all about being a dutiful ranch hand. Jack, well, he voices his discontent repeatedly, but never takes any action.

Director Ang Lee and the screenwriters avoid stereotypical montage sequences, letting the time pass at a leisurely pace. Gustavo Santaolla’s sublime, almost hypnotic original film score augments their efforts. His intermittently used score is but a simple, plaintive melody played on acoustic guitar; its rhythm perfectly attuned to the slow-paced activities taking place in, on, and around Brokeback Mountain.

In late fall, over a dinner at which a bit too much alcohol is imbibed by both Ennis and Jack, the former opts to stay at the base camp instead of taking his post sleeping near the sheep. Prurience has nothing to do with his choice: he is too drunk to stand up. He tells himself, and Jack, who is also two sheets to the wind, that he will get up at the crack of dawn for to take up his post. Ennis then gathers the scant blankets that he hopes will shelter him from the night frost and hunkers down close to the waning campfire.

Lee cuts to early morning, just before sunrise. We see, and hear, Ennis freezing outside beneath his blankets. The campfire is out. In his restive sleep he his huffing and puffing, involuntarily creating motion to keep from freezing to death. His actions waken Jack who is sleeping nearby within the base camp smallish, one-man tent. Like a good buddy, Jack calls out to Ennis, telling him to “get inside this tent.”

Ennis takes Jack’s advice. Again, his choice having nothing to do with prurience: he could freeze to death outside the tent. Ennis enters the tent, his meager blankets in tow, and lies down next to Jack without comment. Both boys show a discernable degree of discomfit but bear it nonetheless for the sake of getting warm again and catching whatever remaining sleep can be had.

Lee skips forward an hour or so. We see the boys from ground level. Jack is sleeping closest to us on his left side, Ennis is behind him, asleep on his back. With a casual, matter-of-fact motion Jack reaches back and grabs Ennis by his right arm. Rolling back onto his left side Jack cradles Ennis’ arm against his belly.

The two are now in the classic “spoon position.”

Neither one says a word during this activity.

But, both men are awake now, and very aware of their positions.

What transpires next provides the grounds for their enduring love.

In my opinion, their exchange will either provide one with appropriate counter-balance for their subsequent actions or fail to provide one with enough emotional weight to believe that love could have ever evolved from such an exchange.

As for that exchange, it is a coupling between two young bucks. Almost a fight really, what with both boys struggling to hold the other steady while unbuckling. We remain at ground level, close to Jack. Eventually, perhaps abetted by Jack’s submission, Ennis turns him onto his stomach.

Thereafter, the curtains are drawn and cigarettes are handed out.

In the morning Ennis gets up and heads off to work the herd. Jack watches him leave. Neither says word one.

Later that day, after the two have eaten an alcohol-free dinner, it is Ennis who breaches the subject.

“This is a one-time thing we got here,” he says. “I ain’t no queer.”

In response Jack agrees. “Neither am I.”

Lee's plotting choices opt not to show us the boys getting it on again, though he does show us, from slightly afar, the two romping around base camp a few days later in their underwear. During that brief scene, as the camera pans back, we also see Joe Aguirre looking at the boys through a pair of binoculars. The sequence insinuates that the boys have been spending the nights together. If not that, then it certainly puts forth the idea that they have reached some other plateau in what used to be a “hands-off” relationship.

Family matters intervene, and the boys end their stint working for Aguirre on Brokeback. Deft editing advances the story at a swift pace. The ever-struggling, always poor Ennis marries Alma and they have two children, both girls. They live in a rural Wyoming town. Life gets tight between the two with lack of finances providing the reason for their division.

At one point Ennis beds his wife, fully intent on creating another child. Alma crushes the moment, asserting, “I’ll have this child if you can provide for it.”

Here, the curtains are drawn but no cigarettes are handed round, only equal dosages of buzz kill.

Meanwhile, far away in Texas, Jack marries a sharp-looking, forward-thinking, rodeo-girl named Lureen (Anna Hathaway). They have a baby boy. Money is not a problem owing to Lureen’s dad, L. D. Newsome (Graham Backel), being the owner of a successful farm equipment outfit. Having no other immediate employment opportunities Jack signs on with his abrasive father-in-law, a contract guaranteeing him steady income but also a steady stream of how-to advice, and other abuses.

This plotting data is critical to my review because without these minor miseries serving as impetus I cannot find one good reason supporting the development of Ennis and Jack’s relationship beyond the summer of 1963.

My reasoning hinges upon their animal-like coupling and whether or not I believe it could provide the foundation for their everlasting love. Mind you, in the four years that ensue after the two go their separate ways into Wyoming and Texas they have absolutely no contact at all. We are not given any evidence that either pines for the other; no fetching glances at the sunset; no leering looks at other fellas resembling their lost lover; and no late night breakdowns.

And yet, after four years, upon receiving a postcard from Jake announcing his specious return visit to the area, Ennis acts the part of a smitten cowgirl whose long-lost love is coming to visit. When they meet in Ennis’ driveway--after their four-year lay off--the two crash into each other again, necking like prom dates under the eaves. In this scene each attests to never forgetting about the other.

Perhaps to divert us from the incredulous basis of that exchange the screenwriters pick that moment to plot Alma Del Mar witnessing Ennis and Jack kissing. The image leaves her no doubt in her mind as to the nature of her husband and Jack’s relationship.

Suffice it to say that Lee and company asks much of us relative to our having any degree of empathy towards Ennis and Jack. We have to take it, almost on credit, that a summer fling between the two, each of whom swear it off and then start “normal lives,” could fester like cancer and eventually disrupt both of their lives.

I don’t think so.

Here are some facts explaining my reasoning.

Fact Number One: Annie Proulx, the author of the short story that spawned the movie, is on record as stating that Brokeback Mountain is a story about “two 19-year-old gay kids in 1963.” The idea emanated after she visited a bar near the Montana border in 1995 and saw “this old shabby-looking guy.” That guy was watching some other guys playing pool with “a raw hunger in his eyes that made me wonder if he were “country gay.” (Only Ms. Proulx knows what “country gay” refers to. I don’t possess a Gay-English dictionary so I’m at a complete loss. My guess is that it has to do with choices available to gays living in the country vs. those available to gays living in urban areas. You know; griddle cakes vs. Krispy Kreme Donuts? Stale, black, burnt coffee vs. a Starbucks latte? Algae-fraught river swill vs. bottled water? Calving a sheep vs. working out at a health club?)

The fact here being that the author of the story has cleared up any confusion about the sexuality of the film’s major characters, Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist. They are gay. While they might not know that themselves, their creator has spoken—you two are gay, “country gay. “ Enjoy your lattes.

Fact Number Two: though 19-years old when the hook up, Ennis and Jack, as the narrative progresses through their lives, grow up. As in: they evolve. As in: they become men, fathers even.  With this maturation process comes knowledge, intuition, and a sense of propriety.  The two do little with what they know about themselves other than cheat on their wives, and lives.

Fact Number Three: adultery, even adultery with a same sex partner, is dishonorable. Cavaet Emptor! Sad to say, I think that Ennis and Jack got their just rewards.

Fact Number Four: Cheaters, while often getting away with their schemes, never go a single day without feeling an unnerving sense that everyone is watching them. Thus, they live with the feeling that, at any moment, their ruse will be exposed and they will be apprehended and punished to the full extent of the presiding rules or laws.

Final

These facts lead me to assess that Brokeback Mountain, albeit a well-told, prosaic, and elegant love story, chronicling the relationship between Ennis and Jack is, in fact, also the story about a pair of dishonorable, adulterous gay cowboys who were neither courageous nor intelligent enough to confront their homosexuality. Had they exercised courage by telling their families, or confronting that face that stared back at them in their mirror about this fact, their lives would have been alarmingly different. Had they exercised concurrent intelligence they would have done the obvious: moved from their respective domiciles in Wyoming and Texas--neither state being Meccas for alternative lifestyles as far as I know—to some place far, far away where "tolerance" is the word of the day-- most days.

Mind you, I’m only half an idiot, but the other part of me knows all about the story’s setting: Wyoming high country, circa 1963, and onward. To that end, the non-idiot me hears your complaints that the time and place had as much to do with the two closeting their gayness as their cowardice. Yet, if you argue those points you are also arguing mine too, putting forth that Ennis and Jack were smart enough to know all about the time and place yet opted to do nothing to alter their self-assessed wretched lives and fraudulent marriages. Relative to the fact that their philandering, secret sex lives undermined those marriages, and eventually led to the death of one and the other to a lifetime of secluded misery, what fresher hell could their simple declarations of gayness made in their lives?

Sure enough, temporary conflagration, lifelong abandonment and absolute ostricization. But, in the aftermath, guilt-free consummation of their “love” in less threatening environs. (To my knowledge, planes, trains and autos existed in 1963, and onward, as well as the rest of continental US of A.)

Having come this far, I have noticed that there is an amusing irony coursing through my review having to do with my knowledge of Ennis and Jack’s gayness. It corresponds to the same knowledge possessed by Alma Del Mar and Lureen Twist about their husbands.

To sum up the irony: EVERYONE KNEW!

Piecing the story back from ending to beginning, this knowledge is, indeed, fact.

Alma knew the moment that she saw Ennis and Jack necking like prom dates within minutes after Jack’s arrival on the scene four years after the boys' sheep-herding stint on Brokeback. For years after she endured it, gaining more evidence by surreptitiously entrapping Ennis by calculated positioning of various items in his tackle box. Lureen Twist knew too. This was evidenced in a phone call between her and Ennis. At the onset of that call, made by Ennis, she refers to him as Jack’s “hump buddy.”

To that end, if you don’t think these women knew, well, you know neither the wily ways of women nor human nature.

Which brings me to the movie's tagline: "Love Is a Force of Nature.”

Regarding Bareback Mountain that point is very debatable. In the movie copious amounts of alcohol, on-the-job insubordination, lack of a back-up sleeping bag, and the inscrutable needs of two lonesome, gay cowboys set the “force” in motion. The “love” that ensued, while seemingly natural, was anything but that. That is if you consider being honorable, forthright, and honest to yourselves and others more natural than cheating and conniving and living a lifelong sham.

But, hey, go see Brokeback Mountain for yourself. Odd as it might seem from my review, I highly recommend the movie. It is one of those movies where the technical aspects of the production: direction, cinematography, editing, and metered implementation of a brilliant, yet sublime soundtrack make up for the lack of likeable characters.