JAKE GYLLENHAAL defies gay stereotypes in his Jack Twist role.
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By TRAY BUTLE
Friday, December 09, 2005
That Annie Proulx’s darn-near-perfect short story “Brokeback Mountain”
ever arrived on the big screen in the first place may well prove the existence
of divine providence. That the film remains so precisely true to the author’s
original text — and even expands her lifelike vignette of frontier life
into a believable universe of longing — further proves that said deity
not only exists, but is loving and good.
One thing is for sure: Gay America can shout “hallelujah,” because
in every important way possible, the movie gets it right.
You probably already know the plot, given the hype that’s preceded the
film for the past several months. Two naïvely restless young ranch hands
share a lonely outpost one summer, overseeing a herd of sheep for an odious
boss.
Faced with the loneliness of the Wyoming wilderness, the two form a tenuous
friendship, which one whiskey-soaked night explodes into a different sort of
affair entirely.
By the time Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) invites Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger)
into his tent, moviegoers are already holding their breath, waiting to see how
this impossible knot can ever untangle itself.
(Warning: There are spoilers ahead, so stop reading now if you don’t
want to know details of the film.) The initial cinematic sex act between Ennis
and Jack will be dissected for years to come, especially by gays torn between
the scene’s brutality and raw sexuality. But the violence/tenderness that
erupts in the tent makes more sense in the original story and ultimately fits
as the film progresses.
When summer ends, Ennis and Jack return to civilization (if you want to call
it that, given this is Signal, Wyoming, in the early 1960s) and their former
lives.
Ennis weds his sweetheart, Alma, played by a deadpan Michelle Williams. They
settle into a Loretta Lynn song of blue-collar domesticity, with two sobbing
young’uns and a cracker-box apartment above a Laundromat.
Jack at least marries up. He’s snagged by a Texas horsewoman, Lureen
(Anne Hathaway), but their suburban comfort bores the boots off him. Ennis and
Jack finally reunite in another tender/tumultuous moment of unbridled passion,
and settle into a pattern of pre-arranged “fishing trips” each year.
As the film’s first half carefully weighs the wide magnificence of the
Rockies (actually filmed outside Calgary), the second act slinks into the confined
spaces of adult life. Director Ang Lee uses subtle details like Lureen’s
penchant for hair bleach to reveal a bundle about his characters. Gyllenhaal
especially munches on the banal details of each scene, giving a performance
at once amusing and heartbreaking.
But the film’s real protagonist is Ennis. Ledger’s lips remain
glued together for 70 percent of his screen time, and his words emerge like
smoke signals from some deep, hidden forest fire. Several “Brokeback”
reviews call the movie a sort of “Romeo and Juliet” with a same-sex
twist. But Ennis in his indecision feels more like Hamlet. He keeps Jack coming
back for occasional romps in the woods, which is ironic, given that their hidden
love can only experience its full life in the wide-open vistas of nature.
It should surprise no one that the movie ends with heartbreak. What’s
shocking is the way Lee (and Proulx’s story) delivers the sucker punch.
An oddly placed flashback seems to mellow the unfortunate situation —
then the film veers into Kleenex territory with a vengeance. “Brokeback”
has been tagged as a “gay Western,” but the film itself defies any
pat characterization. Its setting alone makes the word “gay” an
anachronism, and Ennis lands just barely in the “bi” category. The
queer attack dogs have already pounced on the phantom stench of sexual nuance,
which is unfortunate.
Instead of giving us a strictly “gay” fable of forbidden love,
Lee creates a tragedy whose scope is distinctly larger. It’s not so much
a Western as an epic romance that happens to feature horses and sheep as set
dressing.
Two star-crossed lovers that are both Marlboro Men makes “Brokeback”
a Hollywood anomaly for sure, but it’s a story gay men have been holding
their breath for years to glimpse on screen.
Gay audiences should let out a huge sigh of relief. “Brokeback Mountain”
tells a story that even the reddest of states will have a hard time bucking.
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