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       | Brokeback Mountain (2005) 
      Focus Features, 2 hrs. 14 mins.
 Starring:
 Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Williams, Randy Quaid, Anne 
      Hathaway, Anna Faris, Linda Cardellini, Scott Michael Campbell, Kate Mara, 
      Cheyenne Hill
 
 Directed by:
 Ang Lee
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      | It’s going to be a tough sell in 
      promoting Oscar-winning filmmaker Ang Lee’s nostalgically mainstream gay 
      cowboy western Brokeback Mountain as a viable love story in the 
      unconventional sense. Despite whatever reservations that “the straight 
      world” may hold for observing a couple of cozy cowpokes exchanging 
      off-limits intimacy and physical affection along the scenic range, there’s 
      no denying the eloquence of Lee’s sleepy and thoughtful ode to 
      homosexuality amidst the homestead. Exquisitely shot and vast in its 
      emotional take on forbidden love, Brokeback Mountain is compassionate and 
      compelling in its risqué examination of perceived manhood (in this case 
      rough-riding macho cowboys as the ultimate imagery in masculinity) and the 
      societal violated boundaries of taboo sexuality.
 Brokeback Mountain is not the easiest film to digest since its 
      confrontational bid to showcase spur-wearing studs cuddling under the 
      blankets to sucking face profusely may produce some awkward grimaces for 
      some to consider with serious forethought. Nevertheless, Lee’s fearless 
      leading men in Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger command forceful 
      performances as the repressed sheep-herding twosome whose self-imposed 
      isolation and alienation awaken hormonal feelings. This seemingly quiet 
      and lyrical saga of two distant men attached by an inexplicable surging 
      attraction for one another is brutally honest if not resonate in its 
      poignancy. Both Ledger and Gyllenhall provide thoroughly brave and 
      complicated portrayals of devoted male companions whose ill-advised love 
      are dictated by the restrictions of their caustic times. Hopefully, the 
      Oscars will remember Ledger and Gyllenhaal’s sobering yet courageous 
      on-screen work as well as Lee’s amazing direction.
 
 Interestingly, Brokeback Mountain is based on Annie Proulx’s 1997 New 
      Yorker short story. Screenwriters Larry McMultry (Lonesome Dove) and Diana 
      Ossana handle the brilliantly bittersweet material with a contradictory 
      stroke of stark firmness and tenderness. Consequently, Lee’s visionary 
      outlook for the serene script has a simmering explosiveness because this 
      film never hesitates or apologizes for actually demonstrating the 
      physicality and psychological needs for these self-inflicted cowboys to 
      embrace their passion and pain. Effectively, Lee oversees the slow burn in 
      these complex men as the ambivalence of their convenient arrangement 
      manifests itself into a solid romance that’s as rampant and reassuring as 
      any other hand-holding narrative to date.
 
 The setting is in 1963 rural Wyoming. A momentary silence in front of 
      sheep owner Joe Aguirre’s (Randy Quaid) office trailer is where the 
      withdrawn Ennis Del Mar (Ledger) and impish Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal) first 
      lay eyes on each other. As out-of-work ranch hands, Ennis and Jack are 
      looking for seasonal employment from Aguirre to watch over his expanding 
      flock on breathtaking Brokeback Mountain. The job requires the tandem to 
      operate a campsite and guard Aguirre’s sheep while downplaying their 
      presence because this sheepherding mission appears to be an illegal 
      practice on the mountain.
 
 The guys are faced with one particular stipulation—they must be each 
      other’s sole company during this task for about four long months. Hence, 
      things are pretty boring but Ennis and Jack gradually warm up to one 
      another. Although their personalities differ, they find some common ground 
      in the fact that they are financially challenged as both maintain the 
      unshakable habits of smoking and drinking. Plus, the duo is harboring 
      unkind childhood memories of their difficult fathers to boot. Friendship 
      soon takes center stage and makes the work of minding the sheep seem more 
      tolerable as the days and nights trudge on by.
 
 Drunk and freezing in the chilly nighttime air, Ennis is urged by Jack to 
      come into his tent to seek warmth and shelter. As the two men bundle up 
      under the covers, an innocent gesture of Jack grabbing Ennis’s arm during 
      the night leads to a misunderstanding of scuffling until the men are 
      overcome by animated, spontaneous sex. Did it take this unexpected moment 
      to reveal the true sexual orientation of these confused cowboys? Why would 
      these guys engage in such unspeakable activity, especially when Ennis in 
      particular has a pretty gal Alma (Michelle Williams) waiting to be married 
      once his round-up chores are done? In an attempt to be rational about 
      their irrational act of intimacy, they both insist that they are not 
      “queer” and what they did will stay within the confines of their buttoned 
      lips. After all, it’s their business—no one else’s!
 
 After their employment with Aguirre is over and done with, the guys split 
      and carve out a family life. Ennis marries Alma and eventually has two 
      little girls with her. Returning to Texas, Jack tries to uphold a 
      rodeo-riding career but this is destined to go nowhere. Eventually, he 
      meets his future wife Lureen (Anne Hathaway from The Princess Diaries 
      flicks) at the rodeo and they end up with a boy. Years later, Ennis would 
      receive a postcard from Jack which would set the tone for these guys to 
      ignite their friendship—and more important—their lusty gay-oriented 
      encounters. Despite being saddled with beautiful, supportive wives and 
      loving children, Ennis and Jack cannot escape the loving urgency that 
      refuses to abandon their hungry psyches. Ennis struggles with making ends 
      meet professionally but Jack marries into a well-to-do family in the 
      farming equipment business.
 
 Through the so-called “legitimate” planned fishing trips on Brokeback 
      Mountain (as a sneaky way for them to reconnect away from their 
      unsuspecting spouses) and an occasional rendezvous in shady motel rooms, 
      the gay lovers find comfort and joy in each other’s allotted presence. 
      While Jack persists that they buy a ranch together and live in harmony, 
      Ennis is realistic and skeptical and won’t take a chance in doing such a 
      thing in a world that would surely prosecute their “deviant” sexual 
      behavior.
 
 Undoubtedly breathtaking in its picturesque mode, Brokeback Mountain is a 
      tranquil treat that’s strangely incomplete because we’re left wondering 
      what would become of the love affair had these pair of wranglers been 
      allowed to wallow in their preferred skin. Lee and his cinematic handlers 
      (particularly cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto (21 Grams) and composer 
      Gustavo Santaolalla) concoct an extraordinary piece of cinema that 
      visually pleases the naked eye and creates a wistful spirit. Artistically 
      realized and drenched in skillful sentimentality, Mountain delivers one of 
      the unlikeliest resourceful love stories filled with unassuming silent 
      rage while tapping into a sympathetic pulse.
 
 As the sullen Ennis, Ledger is cynical, emotionally wounded and trapped as 
      a suffocating soul looking to make sense out of his sexual malaise. 
      Convincingly, he carries the scars of guilt, shame, and trepidation on his 
      sinking shoulders. We are triggered by the fact that Ennis may be hampered 
      more than his sexual confusion—that other underlying issues are unanswered 
      within this soft-spoken individual. Gyllenhaal’s Jack is more liberating 
      and accepting of his discovered sexual identity and you feel the 
      anticipation of him wanting to shout his unorthodox love all over the 
      world. Clearly, Jack is as cornered by his homosexual revelations as is 
      Ennis. But Jack’s spry attitude won’t dampen his loving commitment to the 
      man responsible for reinforcing his unclenched heart in the reserved 
      person of Ennis Del Mar.
 
 The supporting roles by the female cast are sturdy and phenomenal. As the 
      puzzled wives, both Williams and Hathaway compliment their big screen 
      husbands with a relenting disillusionment that’s just as riveting. And 
      Linda Cardellini is desirable and uniquely vulnerable as Ennis’s waitress 
      girlfriend who dares to get close to her special cowboy yet doesn’t quite 
      understand the barrier that halts her progression. Overall, the character 
      studies are robust and refreshingly heartfelt in surfacing gleefulness and 
      suppressed despair.
 
 In a film that doesn’t skirt the topical proposal of a gay western 
      romance, Brokeback Mountain is audacious as a soul-searching narrative 
      about yearning for that desired someone that can never be totally 
      acceptable in a judgmental world of self-righteous cynics and moralists. 
      Whether one subscribes to the homosexual lifestyle or not, it doesn’t 
      change the fact that climbing this particular Mountain may be one of the 
      best involving and gutsy experiences you’ll ever have at the movies in the 
      remainder of 2005.
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