• Category Archives Movies
  • Brokeback Mountain

    Where to begin?

    Since last summer, since the first preview crept across the screen at the small artsy-fartsy cinema I frequent with obsessive regularity, I have wanted to see this movie. Knowing the story ended sadly, that there would be no HEA, I still had to go, because of the intensity of its forbidden romance. I wasn’t disappointed, but I was horribly frustrated at the futility and destruction of so many lives. I’m not going to do a film review here or discuss pertinent plot points, but I would like to discuss my mixed-reactions to one scene in particular.
    brokeback
    The kiss.

    That beautiful, hungry–no, starved–kiss, between the two attractive and young male leads. After a lengthy absence, after Ennis and Jack have already consummated their attraction, after Ennis has married and fathered two children, the two lovers meet again.

    And kiss.

    Furtively. Violently. Nothing held back. All their longing for one another, all their despair, all their testosterone-driven male sexuality, all their romantic attachment, is encapsulated in that full body kiss.

    And looking on, seeing all, is Ennis’ downtrodden wife, Alma.

    Ennis is so excited to see Jack again, that he ignores his poverty-stricken, tired and stressed-out wife, the mother of his two young and cranky children.

    Ugh!

    I couldn’t stop thinking that the rugged and yes, suffering, cowboy was leaving his family behind to make carefree and romantic whoopee in the mountains, while his victimized wife stayed home and managed the screaming kids. Had this been an illicit and adulterous hetero affair, I would have been outraged. Instead, I felt the pain of all the characters involved.

    Ang Lee did a fair and equitable job of showing the destruction that a secret like this reaps on all involved, so much so, that the two-sided dynamics ruined the romance of that kiss for me.

    I just wanted the kiss, the romance, and what I got instead was a healthy dose of reality.


  • It is what it is

    The Family Stone–I didn’t hate it.

    Cluttered with clich├ęs, peppered with PC, quagmired in quirkiness, and yet the story held my attention. Hey, it ain’t Capote, but I knew that going into the theatre. And that’s okay, because it’s a Christmas movie, right down to the pathos


  • Baby it’s cold outside

    Saw Tristan & Isolde today, and really enjoyed the broody Dark Ages ambiance. How can you not like scenic shots of an over-grown forest, a beautiful stone bridge, a cranked drawbridge spanning a moat, and a post-Roman occupancy, moss-covered trapdoor in the earth, where a cobweb festooned secret tunnel leads to a stone castle? Also featured prominently: woven Celtic garb and studded leather armor, flowing tresses, on both the lords and ladies. Feuding clan names were bandied about both before and after sword fights. Lots and lots of sword fights. The love story was just so-so, no real fiery intensity, so I came away feeling no real sense of tragedy at the conclusion. And honestly, with Brokeback Mountain still lingering in my thoughts, that was fine.

    Bitterly cold here, with accompanying blustery winds, but still snuck in a brisk, well-bundled-up, 2 mile-walk. What a trooper, huh?

    Nope.

    I made a HUGE quantity of tomato sauce and meatballs before leaving for the cinema and, on the way home, stopped in at a local bakery and bought crusty Italian bread and a Chocolate Mousse cake–something I rarely do, as I bake like a fiend–to go with it. I also bought wine. A large quantity of wine. The Golden Globes are on tonight, and I celebrate everything with food, which explains the brisk walk despite a wind chill factor in the single digits.