My Brokeback View

I finally went to see it. It took a while, but it finally is in about 4 or 5 theaters in Richmond. Fairly decent turnout, but mostly couples my age or older. So, in the true spirit of blogging, here are a few random thoughts.

When it was over, I had no doubt about what would win Best Picture. I still need to see Capote and Good Night, and Good Luck, but I just don't see them doing better than Brokeback.

SO DEPRESSING. The thought I kept having was, "there wasn't anywhere on the planet that they were allowed to be who they were." You can't be a cowboy in San Francisco and you can't be gay in Wyoming. I suspect that hasn't changed much.

My view of Wyoming. I knew people who were gay....and/or suspected were gay. Know what they all have in common? They don't live in Wyoming. Gone. Nothing there for them. I know that feeling. There is something that calls me back there, but ultimately I know that there isn't anything there for me either.

My parents and all their friends. They are of the same generation as Jack and Ennis. I think my uncle actually did some sheepherding. I know he was a roughneck at one point. My dad worked the railroad. Bob hunted antelope from the back of a moving pickup truck. So, it wasn't hard for me to see these characters as real. I just wonder where they would have stood if they had known Jack and Ennis were going fishing. I suspect they would have been cool with it, but with a certain apathy that allows the energy of fear-driven homophobes to reign in Wyoming. We're all guilty of that.

Second, the accents were much better. They sounded like they were cowboys from Wyoming. Ever seen The Laramie Project? They thought Wyoming was just south of Alabama. What a joke.

Lastly, I use to wear cowboy boots. They made you taller and feel more powerful. More manly. I miss cowboy boots.