Review: Brokeback Mountain (2005)

I finally dug up that review that Peracchio and I did together for the Asbury Collegian. Now that Brokeback is back in the news, it seemed a perfect time to put it up. Not really, but this site desperately needs new content.

Peracchio: After much discussion and deliberation, I decided see “Brokeback Mountain,” despite its controversial subject matter. It has been nominated for seven Golden Globe Awards and will most likely be an Oscar contender. The film is a hot topic of debate, and it would be silly to simply ignore it. Christians should know about the movies they watch, or in this case, won’t watch. In the case of “Brokeback”, just one reviewer wouldn’t do it justice. Joining me this week is Ben Wyman, of the Los Angeles Film Studies Center and 10-4 Good Buddy fame.

Wyman:
One might argue that a review of a film as markedly controversial as “Brokeback Mountain” deserves a good deal of gravitas, but I intend to give it none. For all the hype and fervor surrounding the release of the film, “Brokeback” is neither groundbreaking nor moving. Instead, it’s just sort of boring.


Peracchio: One of the dullest parts of the entire feature was the love story. I realize how incredibly difficult it was for director Ang Lee to portray a romantic relationship between two homosexual males without being cliché, but at the same time, there are certain elements required to successfully portray romance. Watch any romantic comedy involving Kate Hudson, and you’ll see what I mean.

As an audience, we come to expect the obvious. We should be able to tell right away when to expect the big moments and feel the buildup to it. Lee downplayed it all so much to avoid the clichés that when the tension between Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) came to a head, it was sudden, and practically laughable.

Wyman: Moderately more interesting are the dynamics of Ennis and Jack’s marriages. As the characters leave Brokeback Mountain and go on with their lives, their once vaguely promising futures begin to fall into disarray. Ennis marries longtime sweetheart Alma (Michelle Williams), and spends the next few years of his life struggling to make ends meet as a ranch hand. Jack rejoins the rodeo circuit and falls in with a vivacious show rider (Anne Hathaway), who lands him a job selling farm equipment from her wealthy father. The two settle into the doldrums of everyday life, while the viewer settles into the doldrums of slow, ponderous filmmaking.

The film finally sparks when Jack returns to Wyoming, four years later, to reunite with Ennis. As Jack pulls into the driveway, Alma looks out the door to see Ennis pull Jack into a forceful kiss. Shattered, she turns away and pretends not to have noticed. Jack and Ennis begin to steal away a few times a year, retreating to Brokeback Mountain together on fishing trips, their only relief from their discontented marriages.
Unable to break away from each other but scared to freely admit it to the world, Jack and Ennis spend the next twenty years in an awkward compromise between the lives they want to leave and the lives they feel they ought to lead. It’s the most honest and moving portion of the film, but Lee stretches it too long, and the viewer runs out of patience with the sparse story before “Brokeback” finally draws to a close.

Peracchio: Critics love to tout “Brokeback” as some sort of a groundbreaking feature, and in some ways, it is. It’s one of the first films to depict a truly masculine romance, as opposed to making it a two-and-a-half hour episode of “Will and Grace”. Ledger really shines in his role, showing us a love that’s hardly physical, and much more pure, like he’s a straight guy that just happened to fall for a man. He knows that it’s wrong and he’s terrified of what people think of him, yet he can’t seem to separate himself from them.
But even then, all I saw here was a western “American Beauty” with much heavier homosexual overtones. What made “Beauty” so poignant was that it hit close to home for viewers. It took familiar white suburbia and twisted it, showing the darkness that lurks just beyond a whitewashed exterior, and that anyone can fall into a similar situation himself.
“Brokeback” is much harder to relate to. At times, it’s preachy, looking down on the American west and admonishing it for its bigotry. Subtract that, as well as a boorish love story, and we’re left with two men, and what their relationship does to the world around them. There’s plenty more to debate about, but neither of us wants to spoil the film for anyone who wants to see it.
Do I recommend “Brokeback”? Hardly. From an artistic standpoint, it’s an excellent film. However, from a more important Christian standpoint, I can’t fully support it. For every diamond in “Brokeback,” there’s an overwhelming amount of rough.

Wyman: Agreed. “Brokeback” is artistic without being entertaining, and falls into the greatest of independent-film quarries: raising issues but not provoking thought. It’s a film so convinced of its own importance it forgets that the audience has a right to more than just the drama of homosexual angst. An audience wants to love its characters, to care what happens to them, to believe in the story.
“Brokeback” is almost clinical in its chronicling of the love story, it’s a science experiment of a film. It puts two male lovers on the screen, and rather than trying to get you to experience their story, it’s content for you to merely respect the excellence of the filmmaking. And while Lee’s direction on the film is solid, and the performance of the actors uniformly fantastic, it remains fact without passion.

Peracchio: That pretty well sums it up. This would be the part of the review where I’d rate the movie, but since I recommend against seeing it on moral grounds, the rating refers solely to the quality of the filmmaking. Out of four stars, I give “Brokeback Mountain” three.

To sum up the story I haven't been telling:

I write my second (and clearly final) post from the International Broadcast Center in Torino. I'm sorry I didn't get to write more posts, but there just wasn't opportunity. Also, I didn't feel like it. I'm working up my Olympic journal though, which should be a decidedly saucy read, and I'll post the unrated version on the site. It's a pale comparison to updating as I go, I know, but I'm hopeful that most of you should get to hear all of it in person anyway.

To sum up though: I developed a real understanding of the freestyle skiing events, to the point that watching them with me in my snobbishness would probably be intolerable. I worked, hands-down, at the best venue and with the best crew in all the Olympics. I partied with Olympic medalists. I failed to learn the Italian language so completely that the only words I can remember are "exit," "hat," and "nose." And, strangely enough, I developed a real appreciation of figure skating.

It's simply been fantastic. Ask me about it sometime.

Crea un nuovo post

I had hoped that being in Italy might strike the creative spark to allow me to resurrect 10-4GB from its postless doldrums. But alas, I am foiled by a complete lack of both internet and phone system at our Olympic Venue. As it turns out, the Olympic Committee figured that since we're stationed in a hotel, those issues would already be taken care of, but our hotel cannot get internet and satellite television and all those things one needs to survive. The athletes and media big shots are staying at the nice hotel at the top of the mountain, and have all those amenities.

On the plus side, we do have a beday. I'm using it for laundry.

I'm writing this from an expensive internet cafe in Sauze d'Oulx, a few kilometres up the mountain from the hotel. The other Asbury students at the venue, Josh and Liesl, seem much less willing to adapt to the situation, so we might be up here quite a bit, I don't know. Me, I'm perfectly content to learn how to operate without internet for a few weeks. I've almost finished my Woody Allen book, and it's so inspired me that I plan on going back and re-writing Rigged as soon as I finish.

I promise - and I mean this - that all the dozens of journal entries I'm writing for my Olympic journal will be faithfully typed up and added on 10-4GB after I return. And I mean, all the entries, not just the technical ones I'm supposed to hand in. I'll put up all the entries about cleaning ladies who wake me up to yell at me about my sleeping habits, and buying Josh his first drink but drinking it myself, and lovely Italian girls who make the time here much more interesting, and being the worst camera assistant in the history of the Olympic Games. There is much to tell.

In the meantime, watch the Olympics when you can. I'll be working on the Aerials and Moguls at Sauze d'Oulx Jovenceaux, as the camera assistant to the handheld camera who runs up to each skiier as they finish their run. I show up in a lot of the wider shots, you can watch for me.

Cincinnati

Hello all. I've been hanging out in Cincinnati with Justin, watching Arrested Development on DVD and crappy satellite TV. It's an exciting life, I know.

If you'll excuse me, Justin and I are about to put on Bengals gear and get a free burrito at Chipotle. I'm willing to be traitorous for a free meal. Plus, after the Steelers game today, it doesn't really matter whether I throw my support behind them or not.

I'll see you after the new year.

I leave for Cincinnati early Thursday morning, partially to watch two friends be joined together in the sacrament of holy matrimony, but mostly for the free food. Also, I hear the 'Nati is lovely this time of year.

Since I don't know when I'll be near a computer for a while, and don't know when I'll get a chance to do this again, I thought I'd leave a few anecdotes from the past few days that've stuck out in my mind .

Last year, I'd just started my blog, and I did a short post expressing my discontent with Christmas. I thought I'd continue that with a short note about this year, just to let you know that I like it much better this year, it really was lovely, but... strange. Owing to the fact that it fell on a Sunday, we found it impossible to re-create the traditions of our previous years, and so we opened all our presents and stockings Christmas Eve, then went to bed. We roused ourselves at various times the next morning, and some of us went off, in separate cars, to church, though we didn't all actually end up going to the same church. We met up again at lunch, caravanned down to Massachusetts, had a great time visitng the family, and drove back. But we never actually opened any presents, which was sort of a first for Christmas day. The next day we went to visit other relatives, and had a lovely round of family dinner and gift-giving, and everything seemed normal again. So while Christmas was sandwiched between two days with perfectly appropriate levels of gift-giving (and therefore, appropriate gift-receiving), the actual day felt strangely blank - it's as if Super Bowl Sunday featured great pre-game build-up, a slightly scandalous half-time show, and a lot of beer commercials, but no actual game. Sure, you might be so interested in the party and the camaraderie that it barely matters, but there's no question that the whole event would just feel lacking.

I've decided that if you ever want to get an honest opinion about your films, show them to your little brothers. Or, barring that, my little brothers. No one is going to be less worried about hiding the fact that they aren't impressed. The following is a segment, essentially word-for-word, from an actual conversation I had with JA last night:
"Hey, do you want to finally watch my films tonight?"
"Yeah. Sure. But after that, can we watch something, um...."
"Good?"
"Yeah! That's what I was thinking, but I wasn't gonna say it if you weren't. Besides, I already saw your films."
"Really...? When'd.... when'd you see them?"
"Remember? You showed them to me last year."
"Oh, uh... I have new films now. I went to film school this semester. In Los Angeles."
"Oh. Yeah. Well, how long are they?"
"Three are five minutes, and one is eight minutes."
"Oh, okay! Well, I could do that. I mean, I thought they were gonna be like an hour each. That's only like a half hour, total. And then we can watch a real movie afterwards."

JA did manage to watch all four movies, but he only survived by teaching himself to juggle during all the boring parts, which apparently is every point after I explained which number film it was. He did make a number of helpful comments, though, such as "this is really slow," and "why isn't anyone talking?" which I think only adds to the viewing experience. He got more involved in the boxing film, and asked how I managed to get permission to film the fight. I told him that we'd hired the actors, rented the ring, and correographed the fight, but I don't think he really believed me.

Chris had it tougher because he watched the films with all the rest of the family, and so I also showed a couple other films that I acted in. My family loved those better than my actual films, I think, especially the part where I'm naked in the tub during Matt Boyd's film. Chris, though, finally ran out of patience after about forty-five minutes, and said, "so are we going to watch the boxing film or what?" Having finally gotten that out of the way, he went off and played on the computer for a while, and so never got to see Excerpts From A Michael Bay Interview, which is a shame, because everyone else enjoyed it, and wanted to know where I found the Michael Bay interview. So, where ever you are, Seth, apparently you do a one-hundred-percent completely believable impression of what a crappy self-absorbed director sounds like. Oh, and they loved Beauties in the Wilderness better than anything I made. But they just don't understand why the monks are wearing sneakers.

And finally, not that anyone could possibly care for an update, but I chose some ringtones. I discovered that hip-hop sounds much better than modern rock when translated into a crappy synthesizer, and a million times better than punk music. I ended up using Kanye and D12 as ringtones, but I assigned Death Cab to play when good friends call, while Keane's assigned to people I hate. So if you call me on my cell phone, and you're also standing right next to me, you'll know where you stand.