Come Anticipate "Brokeback Mountain" With Me

It's just really really pathetic, though at least they aren't calling out any of the other movies in their ad so they're being class about it.

i keep thinking that jack and ennis have no idea how to deal with sex, that they let everything fall apart because they have no idea how to channel/funnel the long, slow, eating away that desire can do to a person (both each other, and their wives, and for ennis the girl in the bar)

life in the middle of the fly over is lonely, my father and his father didnt talk about anything, and that code of masculine silence, and the belief that duty to the land/work goes above all else is central to the film (which is why randy qauids charchter is pissed--nto because they are fags, but b/c they are fucking one one is supposed to be tending the sheep.)

there is no denial to pointing out that this movie is not about gay people, because sexual identity didnt have any cohesion in the west at all until lets say the early 70s, and violations of gender were alot more dangerous because they meant work didnt get done...

the gay cowboy thing is a mcguffin. this film may be a radical film not for the sodomy, but because its the first film in recent memory that hollywood understood what the fuck it meant to be RURAL, YOU KNOW LIKE NOT FROM NEW YORK OR LA, and currently not part of la or new york, remember, it ended almost in 1990, its current in destablizing the red state/blue state shit that we have to constantly go thru (its also why prolux is so impt, and canadian writers like valgardsen and
sinclair ross were too)

(patricia nell warren, whos amazing book the front runner, will be finally made because this thing made bank, makes similar points in her recently published essays.

is this opinon so out there, so strange, that it doesnt make sense, am i seeing a different movie?

Everyone KNOWS which one they're silently calling out.

Today's big NY Times movie ad features big smiling Jake & Heath pics. "It's the FEELGOOD Doomed Fags Tragedy of the Year!"

http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/section?category=SCANNERS

Annie Proulx on how her Brokeback Oscar hopes were dashed by Crash

On the sidewalk stood hordes of the righteous, some leaning forward like wind-bent grasses, the better to deliver their imprecations against gays and fags to the open windows of the limos - the windows open by order of the security people - creeping toward the Kodak Theater for the 78th Academy Awards. Others held up sturdy, professionally crafted signs expressing the same hatred.
The red carpet in front of the theatre was larger than the Red Sea. Inside, we climbed grand staircases designed for showing off dresses. The circular levels filled with men in black, the women mostly in pale, frothy gowns. Sequins, diamonds, glass beads, trade beads sparkled like the interior of a salt mine. More exquisite dresses appeared every moment, some made from six yards of taffeta, and many with sweeping trains that demanded vigilance from strolling attendees lest they step on a mermaid's tail. There was one man in a kilt - there is always one at award ceremonies - perhaps a professional roving Scot hired to give colour to the otherwise monotone showing of clustered males. Larry McMurtry defied the dress code by wearing his usual jeans and cowboy boots.

The people connected with Brokeback Mountain, including me, hoped that, having been nominated for eight Academy awards, it would get Best Picture as it had at the funny, lively Independent Spirit awards the day before. (If you are looking for smart judging based on merit, skip the Academy Awards next year and pay attention to the Independent Spirit choices.) We should have known conservative heffalump academy voters would have rather different ideas of what was stirring contemporary culture. Roughly 6,000 film industry voters, most in the Los Angeles area, many living cloistered lives behind wrought-iron gates or in deluxe rest-homes, out of touch not only with the shifting larger culture and the yeasty ferment that is America these days, but also out of touch with their own segregated city, decide which films are good. And rumour has it that Lions Gate inundated the academy voters with DVD copies of Trash - excuse me - Crash a few weeks before the ballot deadline. Next year we can look to the awards for controversial themes on the punishment of adulterers with a branding iron in the shape of the letter A, runaway slaves, and the debate over free silver.

After a good deal of standing around admiring dresses and sucking up champagne, people obeyed the stentorian countdown commands to get in their seats as "the show" was about to begin. There were orders to clap and the audience obediently clapped. From the first there was an atmosphere of insufferable self-importance emanating from "the show" which, as the audience was reminded several times, was televised and being watched by billions of people all over the world. Those lucky watchers could get up any time they wished and do something worthwhile, like go to the bathroom. As in everything related to public extravaganzas, a certain soda pop figured prominently. There were montages, artfully meshed clips of films of yesteryear, live acts by Famous Talent, smart-ass jokes by Jon Stewart who was witty and quick, too witty, too quick, too eastern perhaps for the somewhat dim LA crowd. Both beautiful and household-name movie stars announced various prizes. None of the acting awards came Brokeback's way, you betcha. The prize, as expected, went to Philip Seymour Hoff-man for his brilliant portrayal of Capote, but in the months preceding the awards thing, there has been little discussion of acting styles and various approaches to character development by this year's nominees. Hollywood loves mimicry, the conversion of a film actor into the spittin' image of a once-living celeb. But which takes more skill, acting a person who strolled the boulevard a few decades ago and who left behind tapes, film, photographs, voice recordings and friends with strong memories, or the construction of characters from imagination and a few cold words on the page? I don't know. The subject never comes up. Cheers to David Strathairn, Joaquin Phoenix and Hoffman, but what about actors who start in the dark?

Everyone thanked their dear old mums, scout troop leaders, kids and consorts. More commercials, more quick wit, more clapping, beads of sweat, Stewart maybe wondering what evil star had lighted his way to this labour. Despite the technical expertise and flawlessly sleek set evocative of 1930s musicals, despite Dolly Parton whooping it up and Itzhak Perlman blending all the theme music into a single performance (he represented "culchah"), there was a kind of provincial flavour to the proceedings reminiscent of a small-town talent-show night. Clapping wildly for bad stuff enhances this. There came an atrocious act from Hustle and Flow, Three 6 Mafia's violent rendition of "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp", a favourite with the audience who knew what it knew and liked. This was a big winner, a bushel of the magic gold-coated gelded godlings going to the rap group.

The hours sped by on wings of boiler plate. Brokeback's first award was to Argentinean Gustavo Santaolalla for the film's plangent and evocative score. Later came the expected award for screenplay adaptation to Diana Ossana and Larry McMurtry, and only a short time later the director's award to Ang Lee. And that was it, three awards, putting it on equal footing with King Kong. When Jack Nicholson said best picture went to Crash, there was a gasp of shock, and then applause from many - the choice was a hit with the home team since the film is set in Los Angeles. It was a safe pick of "controversial film" for the heffalumps.

After three-and-a-half hours of butt-numbing sitting we stumbled away, down the magnificent staircases, and across the red carpet. In the distance men were shouting out limousine numbers, "406 . . . 27 . . . 921 . . . 62" and it seemed someone should yell "Bingo!" It was now dark, or as dark as it gets in the City of Angels. As we waited for our number to be called we could see the enormous lighted marquee across the street announcing that the "2006 Academy Award for Best Picture had gone to Crash". The red carpet now had taken on a different hue, a purple tinge.

The source of the colour was not far away. Down the street, spreading its baleful light everywhere, hung a gigantic, vertical, electric-blue neon sign spelling out S C I E N T O L O G Y.

"Seven oh six," bawled the limo announcer's voice. Bingo.

For those who call this little piece a Sour Grapes Rant, play it as it lays.

I'm not dissing Brokeback Mountain, it's still my second favourite film of, oh, the last twelve months or so. When did Hotel Rwanda come out? (Don Cheadle was better in that than Crash).

Randy Quaid Sues Over 'Brokeback'
Actor claims producers defrauded him

TMZ obtained a copy of the lawsuit, filed Thursday in Los Angeles Superior Court, claiming producers falsely represented the movie to him as "a low-budget, art house film, with no prospect of making any money." Quaid claims the representations were a ruse from the beginning. 'Brokeback' has grossed around $160 million.

Quaid's suit claims that in 2004, he met with director Ang Lee, who offered him the role of Joe Aguirre. The suit alleges that Lee told Quaid: "We can't pay anything, we have very little money, everyone is making a sacrifice to make this film."

The suit does not specifically state how much Quaid made, but it does claim that the defendants "were engaged in a 'movie laundering' scheme designed to obtain the services of talent such as Randy Quaid on economically unfavorable art film terms..."

The suit asks for $10 million in damages as well as punitive damages. It also seeks "restitution for all ill-gotten gains."

http://glreview.com/13.2-holleran.php

Brokeback The Opera.

we await the "Jack Nasty" aria.

I don't get this movie. The desire between the two beefy lunks at the centre seemed totally phoney. Unbelievable. Non-existent. It just wasn't there.

And jeezus, the whole thing is about 2.5 hrs long, to tell a non-story.

Egad, this thread. I'm spouting nonsense all over it.

this was on TV last night and I finally sat through it and it was garbage. I hate you Ang Lee. The end.

we don't see enough of Gylly's arse.

also Rosenbaum OTM way upthread

xp

my wife cried at the end though (she professed to being bored with the rest of the film)

Well, you have to see this.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3fiHumNOm0

It is a little slow, but its beautifully shot. Can't agree that it would be complete garbage.

I recently watched this movie again and it's totally awesome and classic all around.

It is a little slow, but its beautifully shot

Beautiful widescreen nature shots are always beautiful.

It's all downhill after the first tent fuck.

ain't that always the way...

I love widescreen outdoor nature shots too but there was nothing particularly interesting about these, sorry.

It's not just those though. I really like the way a majority of the scenes are framed. I haven't watched it in a long time so I'm having trouble bringing up specific examples, but I just really loved the way the whole film looked.

my reaction was the opposite, really.

Gyllenhaal was pretty good tho. shouty monologue at the end was a bit much. but he aged the character in a believable way (stunt mustache!)

i dunno if anyone has mentioned this but the thing that pissed me off abt this movie was that first sex scene. I mean, we're supposed to believe that these guys start barebackin it with a little spit for lube and that he gets it in that easy and that gyllenhaal is bottoming for the first time and that he actually enjoys it. at least enough to do it again. That shit would be fn sore, even a little "whoa man, take it easy" and i might buy it.

are we so sure that it's gyllenhall's first time?

and maybe it hurts but he doesn't want it to stop so he shuts up about it

(the spit detail is hot imo- i'll take it over realism)