Reviews

Brokeback Mountain is one of the rarefied films that has the ability to truly haunt us. If I were to compile a list of my favorite films of all time there would be many that participated in advancing film to a virtuosic art-form such as Casablanca, or Gone With The Wind, etc. But there is a much shorter list that genuinely affect us in ways that we are recognizably changed for having seen them. That list for me is distinctly modern and weighs in with American Beauty, The Hours, and Brokeback Mountain. They all are children of amazing direction and acting that embody film as transcendent art, not solely because they have great DP's or dialog but because their social commentary resonate our souls. Sometimes we know things about humanity that we didn't even realize we knew until presented with them, and their fundamental nature is so rooted in us that they feel they are actually a part of us: "I guess I could be pretty p!ssed off about what happened to me ... but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst ... And then I remember ... to relax, and not try to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life." "So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And, of course, there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn't the beginning. It Was happiness. It was the moment … right then." These are the movies that center us, as does Brokeback Mountain. There is a ubiquity to the theme of forbidden love which many reviewers have extrapolated to varying conditions such as inter-racial love or even a career for which we are passionate but are limited access to, etc, but as a gay male I am finding it hard to separate myself from the film's specific condition of attempting to deny one's sexuality. I left the love of my life in the green hills of Virginia for the dust bowl of Arizona and the supposedly fulfilling future of a straight life with wife and kids. Our love was quite forbidden in the culture of the Shenandoah and in the deeply religious eyes of my family and so I bore the ember in my hand, out of sight, until it burned so badly that I had to let it out in the open. And now, two days after Brokeback, I still fight back tears thinking of holding my boyfriend, consoling him in between tear-soaked thanks for not burying our love in a place that would have consumed us both, on our Brokeback Mountain, the Shenandoah Valley. The images of Ennis and Jack as they are haunted by each other and by what they could have been in a different era or place center us in our resolve to live our love and love our lives in whatever incarnations God has presented us, and Godwilling, this is one haunting that shall never leave.

This film almost leads one to believe that sound betrays the emotion the eyes capture. Just as the blind develop hearing far better than the average, the deaf develop a keen sense of sight. I am convinced that a lack of dialogue forces us to read the language of the face and body, a verbage unmatched in beauty and nuance. Though the accompanying musical piece (be careful not to identify it as a score), so deliciously inspired by the film, enhances the visual playground; it is the actors' faces that comprise this tour de force. Ms. Falconetti shifts from worry and doubt to unabashed conviction in a single shot, giving the viewer the luck of seeing one's thoughts in progress. She needs no response to the interrogation, it's all in her face. Renee is not superficially beautiful and the lack of make-up only reinforces how bare Joan is, but it is the uncanny ability of an incomparable stage actor to be a window into the soul that makes her so stunning, for the soul we see is one we only wish to attain for ourselves. The Church sees what we see, and they respond just as clearly to her unspoken protest with vehement pomp. The cinematography is so astounding for its time no comment could ever do it justice. Though many comments can be made, and are, surrounding the inspiration and detail for the set, it is at its core an incredible gift from Dreyer to the actors meant to inspire. It plays little part in the film, but to pull an inconceivable last drop of reality from the actors. A testament I can imagine will never be matched to the incredible power of silence.