Somehow, despite the increasing insanity as the holidays grow nearer (or perhaps because of the increasing insanity), I managed to watch Brokeback Mountain today. Yes, I am probably the only Oscar-watching person on the planet who hadn't yet seen the film, but I will remind all readers (all three of you, on a good day) that my darling son was less than a year old when the movie appeared and the younger the child, the fewer films you get to see.
anyway, imagine me, crying my eyes out on my couch for the last 30 minutes of the film. i felt bad all around--bad for the wives, bad for the kids involved, and bad for the cowboys who couldn't find it in this life to be together. i just kept thinking "this is what happens when you try to deny who you are and live to someone else's standards." and i just wanted to shout and scream at the tv, "c'mon bud, admit your damned feelings already. c'mon. you know you want to be happy." and i know that rationally, in the time, he just felt he couldn't, but damn, jack had to go and die (sorry, spoiler alert is too late, for the one remaining person that has been living under a rock next to me and hasn't yet seen the film) just as he was getting there.
and honestly, to live with that kind of passion. wow. it blew me away.
it's midnight. darling son is crying (his teeth, I guess). must cut this short.
oh for the love of two cowboys...
1 comment:
i have never seen the movie, either, but i often avoid things that i know will make me feel drama.
i didn't read the story/book, either.
but, of course i don't mind knowing someone dies; they always do in such plots.
culture can keep you far, far from what makes you happy.
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