One of the reasons I've read the short story more than once is that I keep finding new details that I overlooked in previous readings -- little asides on Proulx's part that continually add to a deeper meaning. Brokeback Mountain is a movie made by people who read every word of the story every single day, wringing out its potential for drama like you'd wring out a
soaked washcloth. The largest additions are in Jack Twist's passing of years, filling out details unexplored by the story's reliance on the Ennis POV, but of those scenes only one -- in which Jack stands up to his rich and domineering father-in-law at Thanksgiving -- feels at all out of place.
And the sum of all this is a small love story with an epic feel: a critical favorite, an Oscar frontrunner, and the only other film of 2005 that can challenge Sin City for the title of Year's Most Faithful Adaptation. A two-hour movie from a fifteen-page short story, with minimal addition.
Sometimes, with adaptations, you sometimes get to see a dull caterpillar transform into a beautiful butterfly, but most of the time you watch a beautiful caterpillar burst from the cocoon as a dull brown moth. Brokeback is the rarest of species -- it emerged transformed, but still recognizable. Still just as gorgeous as before.
Just a little longer.
=aside= ToastThanks.