Richard Alleva, who has been reviewing films for COMMONWEAL since 1990, has long been one of my favorite film critics. I had been wondering if and when he would review Brokeback Mountain. I discovered today that he has--and although I don't always see eye to eye with Alleva (not that I'm any expert on film), I agree with everything he says about Brokeback in his review.
What does Brokeback or Alleva's review have to do, if anything, with "Catholic legal theory?" you ask. Well, just as a film about capital punishment can bear on the moral discourse about capital punishment, and a film about abortion can bear on the moral discourse about abortion, so too can a film about the love between two gay men bear on the moral discourse about same-sex unions. And Brokeback does indeed bear on the moral discourse about same-sex unions.
Here are some excerpts from the review:
Miraculously, you discover that you can take your heart out of your chest without dying. Well, perhaps you’re not really alive but you walk, talk, get business done, and nobody suspects that you are actually an ambulatory corpse. You keep your still throbbing heart in a little box in the attic. You go up to visit it from time to time. In the attic’s darkness you breathe on your heart, whisper tributes to it, caress it with your eyes. Of course you must keep your visits furtive and few lest anybody suspect how weird you are. Suspicious or not, family and friends come to regard you as dry, ungiving, and...well, rather heartless.
That’s the emotional gist of Brokeback Mountain, adapted from Annie Proulx’s short story by Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana and directed by the versatile Ang Lee. Two rootless young men, Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal), dress like cowboys but get summer jobs shepherding near the slopes of a mountain in 1963 Wyoming. Ennis, an emotionally stunted orphan (and probable virgin), doesn’t know what he wants out of life, while Jack Twist, a sly tease with the demurely downcast eyes of a Victorian cherub, knows that he wants Ennis (none of this is in the dialogue, but it is superbly conveyed by Lee’s staging and choice of close-ups). On a freezing night in a tent, Jack gets what he wants and Ennis discovers he wants the same thing. But the next morning Ennis sternly declares that he “ain’t no queer,” and Jack protests, “I ain’t either.” And they both believe what they say. Queers are effeminate, right? And these two know they are real men, so they can’t possibly be queers, right? But their hormones are in command, and for the rest of the summer the youths obey their bodies with ardor. Going their separate ways in the fall, Ennis gets married and ekes out a Spartan existence for a wife (Michelle Williams) and two daughters while Jack does the rodeo circuit in Texas before marrying Lureen (Anne Hathaway) whose rich father is willing to take a son-in-law into the ranch-equipment business, an arrangement that turns Jack into an amusing consort and later into a court jester. Thus concludes the first third of the movie.
Then comes the heartbreaking rest of life as lived under the emotional shadow of Brokeback Mountain. Jack, financially comfortable but sexually and emotionally itchy, begins visiting Ennis a couple of times a year, the two going off to “fish” near their old shepherding grounds. Do these periodic revels bring enough relief to make their quotidian lives less parched? Sadly, the opposite seems to be the case: the vacations bleed work and family life pale. Ennis becomes that proverbial sad drunk in the darkest corner of the bar. Jack, growing a black moustache, comes to resemble a gigolo, which may be an indication of how he feels about himself vis-à-vis his rich wife. The two men have stored their hearts on Brokeback Mountain and are getting, in early middle age, too winded to make the climb.
Alleva concludes his review by emphasizing that Brokeback
is not a gay movie. I say that not because the principal artists involved are all straight. (Ironically, Ledger and Williams are now engaged to be married.) This superb work of art is about the tragedy of emotional apartheid, and none of us, no matter our sexual orientation, is ever safe from the way life conspires to make us put our hearts on ice.
To read Alleva's whole review, click here.
_______________
mp