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Director
- Ang Lee
Writers - Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana, based on the short story by
Annie Proulx
Director of photography
- Rodrigo Prieto
Editors - Geraldine Peroni and Dylan Tichenor
Music
- Gustavo Santaolalla
Production designer
- Judy Becker
Produciers -
Diana Ossana and James
Schamus
Focus Features. 134 minutes.
Rated R for nudity, sex scenes (homosexual and
heterosexual), violence, and profanity.
STARRING: Heath Ledger (Ennis Del Mar), Jake
Gyllenhaal (Jack Twist), Linda Cardellini (Cassie), Anna Faris (Lashawn
Malone), Anne Hathaway (Lureen Newsome), Michelle Williams (Alma), Randy
Quaid (Joe Aguirre) and Kate Mara (Alma Jr.).
A few words of introduction...
As a Christian, why would I bother to watch and
review Brokeback Mountain, a film so many other Christians have
condemned? Well, Christian film critics are often quick to condemn a
film because they object to the lifestyles of the characters. Sometimes,
they judge a work of art unfairly because of it. Fortunately, a few
have given the film a chance and discovered that there is
much to consider in Ang Lee’s acclaimed,
award-nominated work.
Having learned a long time ago the difference between a reaction
and a review, I decided this was one I wanted to see for myself.
But there’s another reason I’ve given my attention
to Brokeback Mountain. I’m an Ang Lee fan. I have been for many
years. The Ice Storm is one of my favorite films
— it’s full of
memorable, convincing characters, and it's one of the few films
to note that the sexual recklessness celebrated by the “free love”
generation led to devastating consequences for those who became parents,
and the damage stretched to mark the lives of their children.
Lee is one of the few who dares to question the
effects of self-indulgence, and he understands the cost of personal
sacrifice. I was moved also by the beauty of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. And
Eat Drink Man Woman is a delightful piece of work. (While Hulk
was much maligned by audiences and critics, I enjoyed
it unusual meditative quality.) Lee has such an appetite for beauty
that, even if I disagree with some
of his convictions, I almost always find the natural beauty of his
films, and the powerful performances he draws from actors, to be worth
my time.
But Brokeback Mountain is about two
homosexual men. Why, some Christians will ask, would I bother with such
a story? I’m interested in people of all
varieties, beliefs, and orientations. I
have several gay friends, and I value their friendship, even if
we disagree on some issues. They’ve played meaningful roles
in my life. And, after all, I’m just not a big fan of
prejudice and hate.
Brokeback Mountain is a film in which all
kinds of people engage in all manner of wrongdoing. Yes, there are two
men who hastily plunge into an intimate sexual bond, and as a
result, their relationship narrows to become an
unhealthy sexual obsession rather than a flourishing friendship and love
— they become enslaved
to their lust, and it disrupts the rest of their
lives. But there are also heterosexual people
guilty of violent hatred, and heterosexuals who engage in hasty sex soon after meeting.
Some commit adultery. One man is violent toward his wife. some utter spiteful, prejudicial slurs. Why would I
ignore a film because it
portrays one particular variety of sin? As with any story, it is
interesting to see whether the choices and
consequences mirror the truth, or if they have been skewed by the artist
to represent a vision of the world that is false.
To undertake a review of this film is a monumental
task, because feelings about it run so strongly and tempers easily
flare. I hope that I can be clear and
respectful, while sharing an opinion that is unpopular with the film’s
fans. But I suspect that by praising the film for its virtues, I’ll
receive wrathful letters from its detractors as well.
I welcome your responses to the review. Art is
fulfilling its role when it provokes us to reflection, discussion, and
growth. If anyone — Christian, pagan, homosexual, heterosexual —
responds with rage and hatred, they make themselves
guilty of the
very “intolerance” that they probably think I am demonstrating. I assure
you, my only “agenda” is to observe the story, what it shows us, what it
implies about our lives beyond the cinema, and whether or not it stands
up to the test of excellence and truth.
* *
*
The story of
Brokeback Mountain
Brokeback Mountain is about Jack Twist
(played by Jake Gyllenhaal) and Ennis Del Mar
(played by Heath Ledger). They’re two cowboys — or, more specifically,
two laborers who work for a time as shepherds. They’re fairly
uneducated. Ennis has trouble showing his emotions. And Jake is so needy
that he quickly sizes up Ennis to see if there is potential there for an
intimate partnership.
The director illustrates
their budding friendship with great
sensitivity. It’s a rare and beautiful thing, seeing two men on the big
screen develop a brotherly affection
and care for each other. A deep and abiding friendship between
men is hard to find at the cineplex… so rare, in fact, that in our
sex-obsessed culture it is difficult for many to believe that men can be
intimate friends without crossing over into a sexual
relationship. (Consider all of the jokes that were made about Frodo and
Sam while The Lord of the Rings films were in theaters.) There’s
something wonderful happening as Jack and Ennis bond over their pain.
Through their sparse, ineloquent conversations, it
becomes clear that Jack and Ennis have had hard
lives, with unloving fathers, feeble connections with families,
and an almost astonishing lack of understanding of
their own religious heritage. Families and the church have failed
these two men, it seems. When we meet Jack’s mother and father, we can
see that he grew up in a miserable home. It’s not hard to believe that
Jack’s complaints against his father are true, and that his need for
warmth and affection, and for a father figure, would grow beyond all
healthy proportion. When Jack uses the word
“Pentecost,” he thinks it has something to do with fire and brimstone.
Ennis doesn’t show evidence of having any firmer grasp of what
Methodists are about. As a result, they're not deep
thinkers. But they feel things very strongly.
In the moment
Jack and Ennis plunge into sex together, their
relationship changes. You’ll see it happen as the story progresses.
Their deepening care and understanding stops. They
become controlled by and obsessed with their sexual connection. Their
days of rich and flourishing friendship are numbered. It is worth noting that the sex is
not accompanied by any kind of promise, commitment, or intention to make
this a lasting bond. In any kind of relationship, this is a rash and
foolish step, almost certain to end in heartache. And
sure enough, their partnership devolves into an increasingly contentious and
damaging relationship that
saps all other areas of their lives.
The characters seem to believe that this sexual
bonding just “happened,” as if an irresistible force took over and they
could not stop it — a favorite excuse of adolescents
after they've done something wrong. But sexual attraction
does not become sexual activity unless someone takes deliberate action.
And if sexual appetites are cultivated beyond control, like drug
addiction, that's a dangerous and unhealthy thing. This has little to
do with real love, although it is often considered synonymous.
Jack and Ennis aren’t just quick to deny
responsibility for their actions. They’re also quick to tell
catastrophic lies. Both of them go on to get married to women who
believe their promises of fidelity and adoration. They
take on further responsibilities by having children and
becoming providers and role models.
When they meet again and demonstrate that
they still cannot control their sexual attraction to each other, they
quickly and selfishly break their marital vows and betray the trust of their
children. In doing so, they all but guarantee that
their own children will grow up similarly hurt, distrustful, and needy.
Lo and behold, Jack and Ennis end up unhappy. By
sentimentalizing the summer where they first knew some kind of care and
intimacy, they prevent themselves from deeper, more fulfilling
experiences beyond it. It’s an error of nostalgia, in a way, and it
dooms them.
Of course, Jack and Ennis aren’t the only wrongdoers. Ennis
has nightmarish memories of seeing the corpse of a homosexual man who
was cruelly murdered by bigots.
Joe Aguiree (Randy Quaid), the man who employs Jack and Ennis, refuses to
re-hire Jack when he learns about how they spent their time on the
mountain. If there are acts in this film worth condemning, count these
among them.
In the end, we’re left with a mess. But we can’t
call it “tragic,” because what we’ve seen has not transpired over a
misunderstanding or folly. Ennis and Jack are both people worthy of love
and care, but they make rash and foolish choices, and they are as
responsible as anybody for the heartache that ensues.
If anyone in the
film is a “tragic hero,” it’s Alma (Michelle Williams), Ennis’s wife,
who believed his marriage vows and who endured betrayal and assault
without returning evil for evil. She's the broken heart
at the center of a tale about
sin and consequences, sins committed by the two
misguided lovers, by their families,
their communities, and the
churches that boiled the gospel down to a message of "fire and
brimstone" instead of a message of love and grace.
* *
*
Is
Brokeback Mountain worth celebrating? In some ways, yes…
This adaptation of
an E. Annie Proulx story,
scripted by Larry McMurty and Diana Ossana,
is getting a great deal of attention. And indeed, there is much
to admire about the film, much deserving of praise.
Cinematographer
Rodrigo Prieto (21 Grams, 8 Mile) has captured
awe-inspiring beauty in the wilderness. The colors of the landscapes are
radiant and rich in bloom, and cold as stone in winter. As Ennis and
Jack guide rivers of sheep between the hills, it’s a beautiful visual
metaphor (if inadvertently so) for how all of us need guides and helpers who can save us from
our own wayward wills.
Like the exteriors, the interiors of the taverns,
homes, and ranch buildings are colorful and convincing. This world feels
real and lived-in.
It is clear from his performance here that Heath
Ledger is, indeed, a talented actor. Personally, I think it’s easy to
find stronger, more complex, more accomplished performances this year,
including work by Daniel Day-Lewis (The Ballad of Jack and Rose),
Viggo Mortensen (A History of Violence), David Strathairn (Good
Night, and Good Luck), Joaquin Phoenix (Walk the Line),
Anthony Lapaglia (Winter Solstice), Daniel Auteil (Cache)
— and
Philip Seymour Hoffman (Capote), another heterosexual man playing
a homosexual character, whose performance was fascinating, subtle, and
deeply moving. But if Ledger wins, as many predict he will, it will not
be merely because he played a gay man who couldn’t control his sexual
urges, but because he exhibited great ability here.
Jake Gyllenhaal is also deserving of praise for
turning Jack into a three-dimensional character, as dismaying and
misguided as Jack becomes. (Jack’s “love” for Ennis is so strong, that
when he can’t have sex with Ennis he ends up wandering off with male
prostitutes.)
The actresses are equally effective, if not more
so. Alma
(Michelle Williams), Jack's wife Lureen (Anne Hathaway),
and another who should not go unnoticed —
Jack’s mother
(Roberta Mawell)—are brought to life with delicacy and deep
emotion.
Of the three, Williams is given the most prominent
role, and if she wins an Oscar for her performance, it’s because she
passionately commits herself to it, body and soul.
This is Williams' second strong performance in 2005, having also
performed admirably in Wim Wenders' Land of Plenty. As the only character
with a strong moral compass in evidence, she gives a warm,
whole-hearted, and devastating performance.
Hathaway continues to show
more and more potential, taking her few scenes and loading
them with intelligence and palpably repressed emotions.
Maxwell plays Jack’s mother with the same
fragility she brought to her other role as a devastated mother whose son
took the wrong path (Dead Man Walking).
* *
*
… and in some
ways, no.
But the film is also getting a lot of attention
that it does not deserve. It’s being called “a landmark romance” and a
groundbreaking film. Ledger and Gyllenhaal are being honored as brave
and virtuous, as if they’re doing what’s never been done before. Tom
Hanks played a gay man in Philadelphia
thirteen years ago, and many others have
followed in his footsteps, yet it’s still considered a major
cultural event when straight actors play gay men.
But really, what’s so unusual here? Essentially,
the story of Brokeback Mountain is the same as most stories of
infidelity — two people who “can’t control” their desire for each other
end up hurting others, telling lies, and excusing themselves of
responsibility for their actions. People choose to be unfaithful. That’s
the story of Fatal Attraction, of Hamlet, of Arthur and
Lancelot and Guinevere. Uncontrolled lust for something beyond
appropriate limits is the root of stories as old as David and Bathsheba,
even Adam and Eve. I don’t see why the film is such a media event.
My colleague J. Robert Parks has pointed out that
Brokeback Mountain feels like a skipping stone, which is cast in
one large arc and then, when it strikes the water, stumbles along
weakening stretches until it finally sinks. He’s right — the film
lingers romantically over the cowboys’ lustful plunge into misbehavior,
and then hurries through
the following decades as if there’s nothing there
worth the same level of attention. This hurts the story’s integrity.
Further, the film sways our sympathies in favor of
the two cowboys by making every other man in the film
either pathetic or despicable or both. Each man in
the movie is homosexual and kind, or
hard-hearted and hateful toward gays. There is no
heterosexual male portrayed as decent. (There’s a shopkeeper who seems
nice, but later he’s shown as weak-willed.) This reinforces a false dichotomy
that quite in vogue today
— that people either approve of
homosexual behavior or else they’re bigoted idiots. These are unfair
distinctions. It may not have been Lee’s intention to skew things in
this way, but the inclusion of one respectable heterosexual male
would have been helpful in representing the real world.
But ultimately, Brokeback’s gravest error is
in painting Jack and Ennis’s thwarted sex drives as a tragedy. The way
they talk about the sex, it’s something that enslaves them, an impulse
they cannot deny. Ennis grows increasingly
alarmed as his sex drive enslaves him to its
will, overpowering his mind and his heart. Jack is
confined to even greater bondage, where his life
is ruled by a desire to have sex with Ennis
without restriction, to the point that eventually he demeans
himself to seeking sex with other men as a
consolation. Really… if lust is something that can just seize a
person out of the blue and rob him of his freewill,
shouldn't he be seeking help instead of permission?
Remember Frodo
and the Ring of
Power? The farther he carried it, the more it weakened his resolve
and consumed his will. But Frodo made a journey to
destroy the Ring.
Or think back to the junkies of
Requiem for a Dream or the alcoholic played by
Nic Cage in
Leaving Las Vegas — those addictions robbed the characters of their wills, and made them unable to commit
themselves with integrity to anything else. So why
are audiences willing to believe that drugs and alcohol… and the
Ring of Power… were destructive influences, but not Jack and Ennis’s
sexual obsession, when we see the same kind of negative effects resulting?
As Werner Herzog so thoroughly explores in Grizzly
Man, there are "invisible boundaries" that, if we cross them, cost
us.
When Alma first learns about Jack, she asks her
husband, “He somebody you used to cowboy with?” Ennis quickly claims
they were just “fishin’ buddies.” Then, after beginning a series of
blatant lies, he does not hesitate to passionately kiss Jack right
outside his own front door, smashing his vows with wild abandon, and
destroying Alma’s heart and the trust of his children in the process.
This is not the stuff of a "love story," no matter how many critics call
it that. This is lust, pure and simple. And regardless of how Ennis
feels about it, he has made promises he must uphold.
Lee observes these developments
sadly, and he has a big enough heart to let us
feel Alma's pain. But he isn’t as interested in developing the
relationships that Ennis and Jack cultivate elsewhere. He’s
mostly interested in the sentimentalized
homosexual relationship, the one ruled by lust, as if the only happy
ending would be one in which Jack and Ennis are given over to their
obsession.
We can surely feel compassion for Jack and Ennis,
grieved that they grew up in such a harsh and lonely world, where they
have not seen a good model of heterosexual intimacy, where they know
nothing of God, and where they thus believe they can only find
fulfillment in each other. By letting their sex drives lead them, they
weaken their freewill. They submit to a master that does not know
reason.
All of us, if we’re
honest, can relate to the story of Jack and Ennis. Their story is the
human story, from the Garden of Eden to The Treasure of the Sierra
Madre to Hamlet to The Lord of the Rings to Grizzly
Man: At one time or another, we have all transgressed… we’ve pursued
something we wanted, something that wasn’t what was best for us, without
regard for the consequences our actions would have on each other, on the
future, and on the world around us. Human desire oversteps its bounds,
we are weakened by our inappropriate appetites, and it costs us
something. That’s the real story of Brokeback Mountain.
* * *
The backlash
against Brokeback Mountain
Many people, Christians and otherwise, let their
objections to homosexuality turn into cruelty and prejudice, and as a
result, the church itself has a reputation for tormenting homosexuals
with condescension, hate, name-calling, and sometimes even violence.
This sad history has continued in the religious press response to
Brokeback Mountain.
The “Christian film reviewers” at Movieguide, for
example, have condemned this film as “propaganda” for “perverts.”
If this film was propaganda, why would Lee
spend so much time showing the damage caused by Jack and Ennis’s
behavior?
The Bible clearly states that we have all
sinned, and are all deserving of God’s condemnation,
so none of us should self-righteously execute judgment over others.
Christ models for
us how we should treat each other regarding sin. Consider the story of the
adulteress, whom Christ
protected from the stones of judgmental religious leaders. He comforted
her. He loved her. Note that his love not only protected her, but that
he helped her stand up and move on. He instructed her in the way that
would be better for her. He loved her, while objecting to her lifestyle.
His words to her were to the effect that she would have to choose
between what was right… and what was easy.
The only sinners Christ loudly and publicly
condemned with strong, harsh language to their faces where the
self-righteous and hypocritical religious leaders of the day who stood
around loudly judging others. The truth is,
all of us have sinned, all of us have at times prioritized our wants
over what is best. And thus we should speak about each other with
concern, yes, but also with love and respect…
especially if we dare claim to be speaking in the name of Christ.
I can almost guarantee that the things I have said
already in this review will earn me some spiteful and hate-fueled
messages. They will accuse me of having a “hateful” agenda against
homosexuals.
Nothing could be further from the truth — and those
who write such things clearly aren’t paying attention. It’s true that
many who object to homosexual behavior become hateful and bigoted. But
that doesn’t make all objectors into bigots. I write these things
with great respect and love for those friends of mine who are
homosexuals.
I object to some of their
deliberate behavior, even though I accept that they have strong
inclinations toward it. Why? I can only volunteer my
personal beliefs on the issue... which you are free to take or leave.
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I believe that when we decide that something is
right because it “feels natural,” we are in trouble.
I am often inclined, even powerfully, to do things
I should not. I look for other
affirmations before I decide something is healthy.
One of the sources that has never steered me to error or regret is the
teaching of Christ. And I find enough in scripture to convince me that
God is grieved when men and women stray from his design that they
become intimate only with each other, in the context of love, family,
and fidelity.
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I believe that there is meaning in design, and
that men and women were designed for each other in quite obvious ways,
that the union of two fundamentally different sexes is the fulfillment
of a purpose, and that the union of man and woman often bears fruit is
a sign of that blessing.
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I believe that children
are also a sign as to why such a sexual
union should happen in the context of a faithful
heterosexual covenant, rather than hastily and without any form
of accountability.
But while I object to choices that defy such
design, I know that I too have chosen things that are unwise in
the past. I wish I could revise my own
personal history and change a few of my own poor
choices, times when I rejected counsel and seized what I wanted without much
regard for the way it could hurt others down the road. Thus, while
I have room to object to the
choices of others,
I have no right to let that objection grow into
self-righteousness, disrespect, or hate,
just as no one has room to hate me for my opinion.
To again borrow a phrase from
Professor Dumbledore, we all have to choose between "what is
right and what is easy." If we
decide that love, goodness,
rightness, and natural urges are equal, we justify all manner
of destructive behavior, from pedophilia to bestiality
to murder. Compassion is essential and, yes,
tolerance too. But we need to look beyond mere impulses to understand
what is right and best.
We need acknowledge that there is a higher path, contrary
to mere appetite, one that is more rewarding,
demonstrated by history, confirmed by fruitfulness, and delineated, at
times, by God himself. Through this lens, it
becomes easier to see that our natural world is broken, and that things
don’t work the way they should, including our desires.
It also becomes easier to show compassion for each other and our various
blind spots.
Ultimately, God will deal with all of us for our choices. And all of us
have fallen far short of earning his blessing. Fortunately, he offers
grace to those who open themselves to it. Such love
can inspire us to transcend those desires that drag us down and enslave
us. It can set us free.
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