I got sucked into Brokeback Mountain last night, and felt the need to stick with it until the end. It was my first time watching it since seeing it once in the theater, and no I can't blame Sara because she was already asleep.
Three very clear things about the film:
1. It's very good. Heath Ledger is very good. If you know anything about my filmic sensibilities, then you know that I greatly admire the late scene where Ennis goes to Jack's parents' house. So subtle, so natural, so loaded with the unsaid, so good.
2. As sometimes happens with me and good acting performances that contain accents, I wish I could talk like Ennis all the time right now. I believe I have confessed to enjoying a nice Texas accent in the past. Heath's character is from Wyoming, but his accent has the same general western blue collar twang. The newscaster/Ohio/Indiana voice is probably the "voice" of America, but this western proletarian gruffness really hits the right notes for me.
3. That goddamned bloody shirt got me. I remembered it was coming and so my senses were a little primed. When Ennis got to the parents' house it became palpable. Then he went upstairs and I could feel my throat tighten, my face soften. He looked around, opened the window, went into the closet. I felt the strong need to swallow but it didn't help. Then he knelt down and handled the boots and finally he saw it in the back, the bloody blue shirt from their summer together. I fought the good fight as he noticed his own shirt tucked inside Jack's blue one, then my eyes had a mild sting and my vision sharpened as he hugged the shirts and broke down. All in all, I held it together pretty well, not letting much slip until some minutes later, after the film had ended and I finally succumbed to the animal urge in me to embrace Sara's sleeping body.
You see, two years ago I wouldn't have experienced this response to this or any similar film. I would have had a response, and it would have contained emotion, but it would have stopped short because the film was just a film at that point in my life, and not a connective medium to strong emotion that's constantly present in me.
I'm a pretty freaking fortunate man. Ennis's love story is a terribly tragic one; it binds him not to companionship but to loneliness. My experience is far more traditional but that doesn't make it any less magical or personal. Sometimes I can get lost in the fairy tale and take things for granted. That's why I am thankful that sometimes all it can take is a blood-stained blue shirt to make me remember how well I've got it.
2 comments:
Dave Welty once told me: "Real men cry, Ken." So I've found it acceptable since that day. In fact, I've found myself tearing up more lately than I ever have, even in some TV shows like Lost. Could it be that as we age, we become more in tune with our emotions? And more comfortable in expressing them?
Brokeback Mountain, despite some uncomfortable scenes, is a good movie. If you need another trigger, download the track from the score called "The Wings". It's beautiful, especially when the strings kick in.
Hmmm. Most of the words of wisdom I've received from Dave have centered around Filipino boys and/or prophylactics.
You've got to have full experiences at every point along the emotional spectrum, and crying is just the manifestation of either end. Remember of course that we cry both at extreme pain and joy.
A man crying spurs an interesting sociological response in people but it's pretty silly of course. There are plenty of situations when, sure, there is something to say for the traditional stoic male response as regards giving a strong and secure front for others to lean on, but having even a little cry, after either sadness or joy, can be a wonderful and a cleansing experience. Why that should be socially restricted to women is beyond me. Unfair, really.
Post a Comment