| Brokeback 
                    Mountain  
                      Set against the rolling mountains and cloud strewn skies 
                      of Wyoming in 1963, Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain 
                      depicts the budding relationship between a ranch hand and 
                      a rodeo cowboy who spend a summer tending sheep atop a mountain 
                      from which the title originates. 
                     As reported 
                      to death in the media, Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) and 
                      Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) fall in love with one another, 
                      igniting the screen with gay love that many believe the 
                      world is not ready for…yet. For 
                      months, speculation has been building. With each trailer 
                      screened in theaters, chuckles and giggles were evident 
                      at the thought of Jake and Heath kissing one another, let 
                      alone falling in love. Unfortunately, this has become the 
                      story, trumping the fact that what has been unleashed into 
                      theaters is not just a testament to love, but also a tribute 
                      to humanity, longing, and remorse for losing the “one 
                      that got away.” Said 
                      pining has existed on screen for ages, the only difference 
                      is that this time it involves two men, instead of the more 
                      traditional, and conservatively acceptable, male-female 
                      combination. This 
                      review isn’t about political agenda pushing or pleas 
                      for tolerance, although one would hope an open mind would 
                      be easier to find these days. Instead, we must look at the 
                      merits of the film released, which underneath all of the 
                      hotbed discussion is something far more engaging and beautiful. 
                       When 
                      introduced, Jack and Ennis are the picture of legendary 
                      cowfolk: quiet, stoic, and deeply contemplative. They embody 
                      everything we’ve come to expect from cowboy imagery, 
                      and when they take their places atop Brokeback Mountain, 
                      they engage in a two-man routine that is arduous and trying. 
                      One must pitch a pup tent nightly and sleep amongst the 
                      herd while the other maintains base camp, minding supplies 
                      and preparing meals. The 
                      situation is rugged, but it is domestic in an oddly natural 
                      fashion. Jack takes to tending the herd initially, while 
                      Ennis prepares meals and orders supplies. As the days turn 
                      into weeks, these two slowly start to open up to one another 
                      over whiskey and a warm fire. It is 
                      important to note that neither Jack nor Ennis are fully 
                      aware of what is growing between them. Their dependence 
                      on one another helps things along, but this is something 
                      far more endearing than mere camaraderie. When the bough 
                      finally breaks and Jack and Ennis finally succumb to desire, 
                      Ennis is the first to retreat into defense, insisting that 
                      what they share is a one-time thing, restricted to the sanctity 
                      of Brokeback Mountain. A lesser 
                      film would have dwelled on this setup, being content focusing 
                      on the simple drama of a man who accepts this relationship, 
                      but fears ridicule and more should their love be exposed. 
                      Instead, Ang Lee’s film dives deeper into the psyche 
                      of human melodrama, owing likely to the characterizations 
                      of Annie Prouxl’s short story which served as inspiration 
                      for the film, and in turn taps into something so humanly 
                      universal that it transcends the boundaries of straight, 
                      gay and any other sexual preference. Ennis 
                      and Jack go their separate ways following their stint on 
                      Brokeback, and each one dives into what they believe is 
                      best for one another. Ennis marries Alma Beers (Michelle 
                      Williams) and begins building a family in near desolation 
                      and poverty. Jack pursues his dreams of becoming a rodeo 
                      cowboy to little avail, and winds up ensnared by Texas rodeo 
                      darling, Lureen Newsome (Anne Hathaway). As each 
                      man strives to do right by their respective others, the 
                      call of longing proves too strong for either to control, 
                      so they resort to frequent fishing trips in Wyoming, masking 
                      their romance and love for one another amongst the trees 
                      and streams of nature. Pointedly, Jack and Ennis cannot 
                      fully understand what is happening between them, and this 
                      lends to the idea that sometimes people just fit. It’s 
                      difficult to find someone you click with, and when you are 
                      fortunate enough to the feeling of losing that special person 
                      is plaguing and haunting. Jack and Ennis found one another, 
                      but are torn apart from one another due to societal constraints. 
          One 
                      aspect of the film that stands out amongst the longing is 
                      Ang’s representation of wind in Wyoming, which billows 
                      and blows with a force that most of us West Coasters aren’t 
                      accustomed to. Part metaphor for Jack and Ennis’ relationship, 
                      the wind seemingly represents that which we cannot control, 
                      as Jack and Ennis each find themselves swept up in something 
                      they cannot explain, nor wish to. 
              		    |  |  Lee’s 
                      portrayal of this doomed love is touching in a very humane 
                      way, moving to the core, and deeply affecting. Larry McMurty 
                      and Diana Ossana’s screenplay makes sure to note the 
                      complications of this relationship from all angles, depicting 
                      the struggles of not only Jack and Ennis, but of the women 
                      in their lives as well. Ennis particularly becomes ensconced 
                      in troubled relationships with women, beginning with Alma, 
                      briefly with Cassie Cartwright (Linda Cardellini), and ultimately 
                      culminating in his ties to his eldest daughter, Alma Jr. 
                      (Kate Mara). It’s 
                      this detail that helps signify the importance and focus 
                      on human relationships, not merely the telling of a tale 
                      between to men who fall passionately, if fatedly, in love. Rating: 
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