A beloved short story, an epic motion picture, a cultural shift: Such is the history of Brokeback Mountain, the tale of two Wyoming sheep herders who fall in love and fight their inner turmoil as well as societal norms over the course of their 20-year relationship. On Tuesday night, the 2005 film was screened at Lyric Hall as part of their series in conjunction with Best Video.
The story, written in the most perfect of prose by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Annie Proulx, was first published back in 1997 in the New Yorker and later was published in her collection Close Range: Wyoming Stories. This reporter came to the story after the film, but I would be remiss to not recommend it whether you have seen the film or not. If you have read the story but have not seen the film, that is understandable. Many of us fall into the “the book is always better than the film” section of the room quite often. But even as someone who has been that person, I can attest that this film stands more than well on its own as a testament to the power of filmmaking and that perfect combination of story, visuals, music, and performances.
For one thing, that gorgeous original story was adapted for the screen by another Pulitzer Prize winner, Larry McMurty, as well as Diana Ossana, who also coproduced. They won an Oscar for that screenplay. Director Ang Lee and original score composer Gustavo Santaolalla also won Oscars, and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto was also nominated. Three of the four main characters (Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Michele Williams) were also nominated for Oscars for their lead and supporting performances.
Wins and nominations do not necessarily equal the impression left on an audience, industry, or culture, but that does not appear to be the case with this film. In fact, the film’s loss of the Best Picture award to the film Crash is considered by many film critics and lovers to be one of the biggest upsets in film history. No pun intended, but it seems that Crash has most likely had way less of an impact.
Best Video’s Teo Hernanadez chose this month’s film, citing it as “easily one of my absolutely favorite films of all time,” and then was nearly at a loss for words for what else to say about it.
“It makes me cry. It will make you cry. If you don’t want to do that I would leave now.” There were a few laughs, but also many nods. This reporter was one of the people nodding. I had brought my own tissues from home in anticipation.
We meet Ennis Del Mar (played by Heath Ledger) and Jack Twist (played by Jake Gyllenhaal) as they are applying to work as sheep herders up on Brokeback Mountain in 1963. Their boss, played by Randy Quaid, asks them to camp separately, which technically they are not supposed to do, as a way to keep a closer eye on the sheep, though they will still meet up to tend to them and eat meals. Ennis is shyer, more closed off verbally and physically, while Jack is more of a charmer and jokester. Over the course of their time on the mountain he gently coaxes Ennis out of his shell by merely giving him a chance to be more of who he really is, the freedom and openness of the location allowing them to be more open with each other. This leads to a physical relationship which then becomes a deeper, more emotional one. As the men part ways when the job is suddenly called off earlier than expected, they attempt to get back to some semblance of a “normal” life, but they continue to linger in each other’s hearts.
The rest of the film follows their lives over the next 20 years: separately as each man gets married, has a family, and attempts to conform to societal expectations, and then together as they begin to meet up regularly for fishing trips where they return to the mountain and each other. The juxtaposition of the restrictions that bind them and the freedoms that enliven them are both beautiful and haunting, with the jaw-dropping scenery and soul-stirring music emphasizing it all. Jack wants to be with Ennis and only Ennis, to find a way to make it work, but Ennis can’t and won’t, scarred for life by an incident that happened when he was 9 years old and taught him what the consequences could be if he lived his truth.
Ledger is astonishing as Ennis, all tight lipped and virtually lock jawed in his speech (and lack thereof), swerving form sadness to anger to sadness in the drop of a hat. The physicality and restraint in his performance cuts so quick from the first moment you see him until the last. Gyllenhaal is the perfect partner to Ennis, all smiles and big eyes, always ready to love and be loved, waiting for his moment to break free at any given time. Both Michelle Williams and Anne Hathaway also shine in their roles as wives conforming to the societal roles of the time, but living in fear of what comes to be obvious to them about their husbands and their relationships with them. Each one offers a different take on a similar situation, and each do it with fire and ice.
I won’t spoil the ending, but I will tell you a story about it I have repeated often. Twenty years ago, we saw this film on its initial release at the Criterion in New Haven. By the time the credits rolled, I was sobbing so much that my husband had to help me out of my seat and the theater. That is not hyperbole, but a simple truth. Over the years there have been multiple stories written about how this story and film have affected people so deeply. The way it portrays the damage that is done to those who are not allowed to live their lives the way they want, and how love that is true and deep and shared can change us, is cutting and profound. For me, it was impossible to walk away unchanged. Hernandez agreed.
“It gets me every time,” he said afterwards.
It got me again, too. I used every single one of those tissues.
For further information about Best Video’s screenings, please see their website. I will be back next week writing about another Ang Lee film as Yale Film Archive opens their fall semester with Eat Drink Man Woman.
