When it first came out, I lied. I told everybody that I had seen it because...well wasn't I supposed to have seen it? T
You don't see it because...well why? And then one thing leads to another, you are sitting in a trailer in Central Florida with a bunch of people you have known for 36 hours and watching a tall, butch lady and a total d-bag in jeans, cowboy boots and a bowtie accept an award for writing it and BAM! I just felt like I had to take some kind of responsibility for it. A historic moment in filmmaking...if not Godfather historic, certainly Kramer v. Kramer historic. An achievement in cinematography, sound editing and our first look at Anne Hathaways tatas, soon to be all over Hollywood, lest we had known it.
What I am trying to get at, is that Brokeback Mountain is extremely scenic. Not sweet, sweet love in a tent with a fellow man of the cows...sheep...whatever...but scenic in a...damn I want to herd some sheep somewhere scenic. I didn't realize it was set so recently though...we were everywhere then. Even among the cowboys. This isn't like Madame Curie and Amelia Earhart risque.
Regardless, I'm content to be counted among a recipient of it's message now. It was hardly an achievement in filmmaking, but it has put something else on my list of things to do. Shepherd. A Katie Brandes and I once talked about giving it all up and shepherding together. What "it" is is dubious...I see no permanent careers...but hypothetically we are giving up dream jobs to shepherd. Maybe it is all just a David/Goliath complex manifested in a homoerotic cowboy saga.
I've missed the point entirely, haven't I? Anyway here is this...
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