It Made My Chest Hurt
Everybody's buzzing about Brokeback Mountain. Heath Ledger's publicist is working overtime to get him on as many magazine covers as possible, as momentum builds for his probable Best Actor win. Ang Lee is being hailed far-and-wide for his "brave" film-making. In the gay community, you can't have a dinner party these days without Brokeback Mountain coming up at least once.
So, my friends have been mock-horrified whenever they hear I'm not sure if I want to see this film.
It's not that I don't think Heath and Jake are handsome-as-all-get-out in their jeans and flannel shirts. Its not that I'm immune to Ang Lee's breathtaking filmic abilities (I've seen every one of his films — even The Ice Storm, which was painful to watch, and The Incredible Hulk, which was painful for other reasons). It's not that I don't think it's important for movies to explore the ways homophobia destroys lives. And, it's definitely not that I'm callous to the plight of closeted gay cowboys — I'm the president of PFLAG in my little New Mexico town, after all.
I just don't like depressing films. I go to movies to be uplifted or to have fun. I don't mind sad things happening in a film, as long as I can leave the theater feeling good about the world — and I haven't been convinced that the story of Brokeback Mountain would redeem itself at the end of the film.
So, last week I borrowed the book from a friend, and now I'm even more sure I don't want to see the film. The last ten pages were so sad they made my chest hurt. Far from redeeming itself, the end was classic tragedy, with everyone succumbing to his or her tragic flaws. I honestly don't know if I could handle the story, sitting in a darkened theater with Ang Lee wrenching at my heart with his cinematography. It was hard enough with Annie Proulx's straightforward prose.
So, don't look for me at the theater when Brokeback Mountain comes to town. I'll probably watch it on DVD when my spouse inevitably puts it on our Netflix cue, but I doubt I'll be choosing to see it in the theater.
So, my friends have been mock-horrified whenever they hear I'm not sure if I want to see this film.
It's not that I don't think Heath and Jake are handsome-as-all-get-out in their jeans and flannel shirts. Its not that I'm immune to Ang Lee's breathtaking filmic abilities (I've seen every one of his films — even The Ice Storm, which was painful to watch, and The Incredible Hulk, which was painful for other reasons). It's not that I don't think it's important for movies to explore the ways homophobia destroys lives. And, it's definitely not that I'm callous to the plight of closeted gay cowboys — I'm the president of PFLAG in my little New Mexico town, after all.
I just don't like depressing films. I go to movies to be uplifted or to have fun. I don't mind sad things happening in a film, as long as I can leave the theater feeling good about the world — and I haven't been convinced that the story of Brokeback Mountain would redeem itself at the end of the film.
So, last week I borrowed the book from a friend, and now I'm even more sure I don't want to see the film. The last ten pages were so sad they made my chest hurt. Far from redeeming itself, the end was classic tragedy, with everyone succumbing to his or her tragic flaws. I honestly don't know if I could handle the story, sitting in a darkened theater with Ang Lee wrenching at my heart with his cinematography. It was hard enough with Annie Proulx's straightforward prose.
So, don't look for me at the theater when Brokeback Mountain comes to town. I'll probably watch it on DVD when my spouse inevitably puts it on our Netflix cue, but I doubt I'll be choosing to see it in the theater.
