Brokeback Mountain

Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain (2005) became a pop culture touchstone, even while suffering a crass smear campaign. Moral guardians deemed it Exhibit A of "liberal Hollywood" depravity, while sniggering homophobes made it an easy punchline. Despite box office success and critical acclaim, it lost Best Picture to Crash, a ponderous "issue film" that makes Stanley Kramer look subtle.

Those treating Brokeback Mountain like a mixture of Salo and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? only reveal their insecurity. It's really a touching romance, with Lee adapting Annie Proulx's short story into a low-key, heartrending drama. Exquisitely photographed and well-crafted, it's also a great vehicle for several up-and-coming stars.

In 1963, hard luck Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) take a job herding sheep for rancher Joe Aguirre (Randy Quaid). They bond during their lonely summer in Montana, eventually sharing a night of impulsive sex. They initially brush it off, but find their relationship deepening into love. The two go their separate ways: Ennis marries Alma (Michelle Williams), his longtime sweetheart who eventually uncovers his secret. Jack endures a frosty marriage with Lureen (Anne Hathaway), the daughter of a businessman (Graham Beckel) who treats Jack like dirt. Ennis and Jack return to Brokeback Mountain for occasional trysts, but their secret life causes endless misery.

Brokeback Mountain starts. Lee and Rodrigo Pieto provide ravishing photography, especially during the sheep drive. Alberta's Canadian Rockies provide a picturesque fill-in for Montana. Western writers Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana provide an evocative script, reproducing backwoods rodeos, small-town life and dreamy Fourth of July parties with seamless authenticity and atmospheric feel. Next to Into the Wild, it's the best evocation of rural America in recent memory.

Which makes its story that much more potent. Brokeback Mountain explores male gender roles within a dominantly masculine setting. Ennis particularly fails to meet society's expectations of masculinity. He's a lousy husband and a lazy man who'd rather go on "fishing trips" than provide for his family. To compensate he cultivates  his manly image, notably by twice picking fights with strangers. By contrast, Jack feels more comfortable in his sexuality, soliciting prostitutes and hitting on a closeted friend (David Harbour). On Thanksgiving, he bickers with his father-in-law over a football and forcible takes over turkey-carving responsibilities.

Brokeback shows Ennis and Jack forced not only to hide their affections, but play to society's expectations of manhood. Both men endure loveless marriages for the sake of "appearances," harming their families along with themselves. Ennis puts paid to Jack's idea of running away to a secluded ranch; he recounts a traumatic childhood incident where two rancher-lovers met a grisly fate. It's the closest Brokeback comes to overt speech-making, but in context it works.

Lee avoids the temptation to make Ennis and Jack righteous victims. Ennis's failure to hold a job drives Alma away, not his sexuality; she doesn't broach the latter subject until after their divorce. Jack can't abide his condescending in-laws and consorts with male prostitutes; Lureen seems too wrapped up in business to notice. Their mutual infidelity has unpleasant repercussions on all concerned. The gay angle isn't exactly incidental, but it's layered into the character drama. Brokeback's too accomplished to be a grandstanding plea for tolerance.

Heath Ledger breaks decisively with his pretty boy roles. Laconic, repressed and less-than-virtuous, he's a difficult character that Ledger handles beautifully. Jake Gyllenhaal is slightly less impressive, but with such a flawed character it rivals Zodiac as his best work. Michelle Williams (My Week With Marilyn) gives a heartrending turn, deeply wounded by her husband's dishonesty. Anne Hathaway's Lureen by contrast feels thinly sketched, with her hair growing bigger and blonder over time. Randy Quaid (The Long Riders), Peter McRobbie (Lincoln) and Roberta Maxwell provide solid support.

Brokeback Mountain shows that films can make a point without soapbox oratory. By showing Jack and Ennis violently slammed into the closet, its implicit critique of homophobia rings through. But Ang Lee remains focused on story telling, resulting in a beautifully rendered tragedy.