In 1997, The New Yorker published a short story written by a woman named E. Annie Proulx that chronicled a secret and forbidden relationship that existed between two Wyoming cowboys over the course of their lives.
Now, nearly a decade since the original appearance of Proulx’s story of the same name, Brokeback Mountain has hit theatres. Most critics are hailing the unorthodox love story as a groundbreaking and revolutionary masterpiece. This one is going to be more restrained in her praise.
Ang Lee, the Taiwanese director who brought Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to American audiences and is most recently remember for his less-than-blockbusting superhero flick The Hulk, now brings us Brokeback Mountain, an unashamed look at cowboy love.
Cinematographically the film is beautiful – making intelligent and artistic use of the wide skies and rocky wildness for which the film’s Wyoming setting calls. Ang Lee, known if nothing else than for his unique directorial vision, presents his audiences with a collage of picturesque long shots and strategic close-ups.
The music, although it gets all too familiar long before the film is over, does a good job communicating a common mood throughout the story.
Aside from its scenery, however, Brokeback Mountain is clearly meant to be a character piece, focusing intently on the two main characters’ emotional and psychological feelings and changes. Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal, Jarhead) is a talkative and friendly sheepherder who meets Ennis Delmar, (Heath Ledger, Lords of Dogtown) a man of few words who finds himself unexpectedly interested in his playful partner.
The two men embark on a relationship while working together one summer. At the end of the season Jake and Ennis part ways with difficulty, but after a few years they begin to meet up now and again – taking small breaks from their jobs and wives and children – to go “fishing.”
Over the years, the two men – especially Ennis – permit their jobs and families to spiral downward in exchange for a week here, a weekend there with each other.
Ennis, who seems to be much more ill at ease with his homosexuality than does Jack, finds things especially difficult as his marriage is tainted and his children are beyond his understanding as people.
Brokeback Mountain is essentially a story of one man, Ennis, who allows his discomfort with his own identity and with intimacy in general to effectively cause him problems throughout his life.
Ennis knows that he and Jack, being gay, cannot possibly have a happy life together without the threat of persecution and murder and therefore allows this inevitable defeat to dominate every aspect of his life and family.
The question is, of course, whether or not an audience has the emotional capability to sympathize as deeply with the characters as Brokeback Mountain requires. Ennis and Delmar cheat on their wives, lie to their families, and eventually to each other before their 20-plus year affair ends, and yet they are portrayed to some extent as helpless victims of their own desires and of the time in which they live.
Brokeback Mountain is a skillfully made and well-acted piece (with the exception of Ennis’ character’s habit of mumbling), and it is a welcome change from the movies that generally appear in Johnson City’s theaters. It is not, however, the first movie with homosexual men in it, and I, therefore, fail to see what exactly is “revolutionary” about it.
Nonetheless, with homosexuality still being inexplicably and unfortunately such a messy subject, a positive critique is generally a safe one. Brokeback Mountain is a humanistic tragedy of love and failure. It is a good movie.
It’s just not that good.Love me? Hate me? I’d like to know. Send any comments/rants/suggestions to themoviegoer.cj@gmail.com.

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