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When word got around among gay folk that Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger, hunky Hollywood hotties du jour, were set to play ranch hands who fall in love in the idyllic mountains of Wyoming, there was a certain giddiness: Tight Levi's! A gay cowboy movie!
Then a herd mentality took over as people anticipated "Brokeback Mountain." There's a countdown on Gay.com ("It's finally here!"), E-vites are landing in in-boxes ("Let's watch it together!"), and blogs are keeping tabs on the film's awards, including Tuesday's seven Golden Globe nominations -- the most of any film this year.
The message is: If you're a self-respecting homosexual, you had better get in line -- as so many did last weekend in Los Angeles, New York and San Francisco, where the movie opened in five sold-out theaters -- and see this film, pronto. (It should arrive in Triangle theaters in coming weeks.)
"This is our gay 'Gone With the Wind,' " says Neil G. Giuliano, the former Republican mayor of Tempe, Ariz., and current president of the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), a national organization that tracks the representation of gay men and lesbians in the media.
Last week, GLAAD sent out a news release touting the film's three-day box office take of $544,549 in five theaters -- "the highest per-screen average ever for an adult drama, according to Exhibitor Relations Co. Inc." Adds Giuliano: "This is a monumental gay film."
Yet what's most surprising about "Brokeback Mountain" is that it's not a gay film. Not in the way gay films, especially those about gay men, usually are.
Alec Papazian, who saw an advance screening, echoes many who have seen it when he says: "I'm not really sure how my friends -- my gay friends -- would categorize it."
This is not a film about gay men and AIDS, like "Philadelphia," which won Tom Hanks an Oscar, or "Love! Valour! Compassion!," the film version of the Terrence McNally play.
It's neither comedic nor campy, nothing like "In & Out" or "The Birdcage." It's no "Kiss Me, Guido" or "Trick" or "The Broken Hearts Club," all set in big cities with stereotypical gay characters trapped in flamboyantly worn-out narratives.
Based on a spare short story by the Pulitzer Prize-winning Annie Proulx and directed by Taiwanese American Ang Lee ("Sense and Sensibility," "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon"), it tells the story of Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal) and Ennis Del Mar (Ledger), two vagabonds whose lifelong affair begins in Brokeback Mountain on a chilly night in 1963. They part ways, marry women who don't know their secret and have children, only to reunite four years later with a deep, fiery, longing kiss that is arguably the most passionate man-to-man kiss to have been put on screen.
"Theirs is a story of a love that was repressed," Lee, who is married and has two kids, says in an interview. "That's really what drew me to the story."
Year after year, spanning two decades, Jack and Ennis reunite in Brokeback Mountain, frustrated, scared, still in love -- and giving new meaning to "goin' fishin'," the excuse they tell their wives. There is one sex scene in the movie, which Lee describes as "animalistic," "spontaneous" and "aggressive"; it stands in stark contrast to the kissing scene, which is meant to be "sexy." If you don't buy that kiss, Lee adds, then you won't buy the love affair.
The film's old-fashioned romanticism wasn't what some early viewers had expected.
"It doesn't fit into the current gay culture as we know it," says Jonathan Rosales, 21, a recent graduate of the University of Southern California who saw "Brokeback" in Los Angeles. "It's not about sex. I was actually surprised that there wasn't that much sex in it."
Joseph Wiedman, a 31-year-old lawyer who saw the film in San Francisco, adds, "The big thing is: The movie is really well done and really accessible, for gays and straights. It's not preachy, as one of my friends pointed out, and not at all political. It's very personal."
"Brokeback" pushes the boundaries on two fronts: It's a Hollywood romance, but with gay men; it's a gay film, but with broader, more universal themes.
"They can call it whatever they want to call it -- just don't call it a 'gay cowboy love story.' That's upsetting to me," says Paul Pecoriano, 35, an actor and waiter in Manhattan.
"It's a love story, period," he concludes.
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