Inside the Current Issue

King Shlong on Bareback Mountain
Film Review: King Kong, Directed by Peter Jackson; Brokeback Mountain, Directed by Ang Lee

Tony Monchinski

Oscar nominees Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain

Two movies came out at the end of 2005 that a lot of people wanted to like. Peter Jackson was following up his smashing success with the Lord of the Rings trilogy and his fans were wondering, what next? After all, his pre-Lord oeuvre, including such forgettables as Dead Alive and The Frighteners, were nothing to brag about. When word came down that Jackson was directing a remake of King Kong, a lot of us who have sat through innumerable Kong-Mighty Joe Young-March of the Wooden Soldiers Thanksgiving Day marathons were delighted, yet worried. What if Jackson dropped the proverbial ape? Then there was Ang Lee, who was supposed to be springing back off the ropes from The Hulk with "the gay cowboy movie," Brokeback Mountain. Here we would have two "manly men" - Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal - playing lovers, victims of their times and circumstances who could not be together. One movie rocked, the other flopped.

First the flop. White liberal guy that I am, I so wanted to like Brokeback. Here we would have two "straight" actors playing gay. If their fan bases are any indication, you don't get much hunkier than Heath and Bubbleboy Jake. My wife and I were expecting Brokeback Mountain to be like Six Feet Under but with two super-hunky Keiths instead of Keith and his effeminate partner David. What we got was Jake Gyllenhaal as bottom and Heath Ledger as top, licking his fingers and lubing himself up before mounting the former in doggie anal one freezing Wyoming night in a pup tent.

You probably know the story by now. Two young cowboys work together one summer herding sheep, fall in love, consummate their love, and then go their separate ways. They marry, have kids and over the next thirty years meet one another for "fishing trips" where they handle each other's poles and catch trouser trout. Gyllenhaal's Jack Twist wants to commit, to go off and live on a farm with Ledger's Ennis Del Mar. But Ennis, never forgetting the sight of a slaughtered gay man lying castrated in a ditch that his dear old dad dragged him off to see, cannot make the commitment, although we suspect it is the one thing he so desperately longs for. The ending has been called "tragic." Here's a spoiler: basically Jake's character dies either changing a tire on his car (his wife's story to Ennis) or is the victim of a hate crime (is that Ennis' vision or a flashback to the event? Ang Lee seems to want us to believe it was the latter).

I want to be very clear that my disdain for this film does not stem from homophobia. My spouse and I walked into this movie knowing what it was about and expecting (from the reviews) a tremendous film. The argument can be made that the film is subtle, taking its time to unfold like the vast Wyoming mountains and grasslands that serve as most of its backdrop. But I have to take issue with the majority of the rave critical reviews, which I felt overinflated the film, probably out of motives stemming from the same reason why I wanted to enjoy the movie. And quite honestly, it did not help the movie one iota that Ledger mumbled his lines in what was supposed to be a drawl but sounded more like Billy Bob Thornton's Swingblade character Karl's long-lost younger, more handsome brother.

Acceptance of homosexuals and the gay lifestyle is the big civil rights issue of our day. Today people will at least pay lip service to the idea that you shouldn't discriminate against someone because of their race, gender, disability or creed. But it's open season on homosexuals in our culture. People who will no longer say "nigger" out loud feel no such compunction about dismissing "fags." As a school teacher, I have to hear "gay" used as a derogatory term time after time, correcting students and explaining why it's inappropriate. What I liked about shows like Six Feet Under was the fact that it had characters who were cool dudes who just happened to be gay. Sure, sometimes their sexuality was the main focus of the hour, but by and large their sexuality was part of the background, just as the sexuality of the heterosexuals on the show wasn't center stage as such.

Here's what would be cool and help the gay rights movement immeasurably: if a character in a movie or TV show, say like Keifer Sutherland's Jack Bauer on 24 just happened to be gay. Can't you just see it? "Listen, Kim," Jack would explain to his daughter as the clock ticked, "I never told you this but I'm gay. Now let's go find those terrorists and torture them until they tell us what we need to know!" Mediocre films like Brokeback Mountain do nothing to advance the cause.

King Kong and friends in Peter Jackson's latest special effects smorgasbord

On to Kong. If you read the newspapers you might think this movie was some kind of failure because a Liam Neeson-voiced lion named Aslan surpassed it in box office receipts. But are box office receipts alone the be-all and end-all of what constitutes a great film? Not to the discerning cineophile. Furthermore, Kong clocks in at over three hours long, limiting the number of showings it can have per day. And perhaps equally as important, Kong is, as the Daily News' Jamie Bernard puts it, an "artsy flick" and a "chick flick," which may have disappointed some who thought it was just going to be a hundred and eighty minute monkey stomp.

The twenty second synopsis: ambitious filmmaker Carl Denham (Jack Black) leads an expedition to the mysterious Skull Island where they encounter prehistoric beasts and a 25 foot tall ape who takes a liking to Naomi Watts' Ann Driscoll. Kong falls and falls hard, plummeting to his death at the end of the film from the top of the Empire State Building.

Some people had reasons to expect the worst from Kong. The first film depicted the black natives of Skull Island in a demeaning matter. Jackson's natives are Polynesians, not Africans. They bare more of a resemblance to Lord of the Rings' Orcs than to any minstrel show depiction of black people. In the first movie, the dialogue between Bruce Cabot's ship captain Driscoll and Faye Wray's Ann is sexist, with Driscoll telling Ann he doesn't think women should be aboard ships because they're a "cock-eyed nuisance." Jackson makes fun of this by having the same lines repeated by Denham's actors aboard ship in the film Denham is making. The Boondocks' Uncle Ruckus told readers of Aaron McGruder's syndicated column that Kong is a cautionary tale about what happens when a black man loves a white woman. I don't buy this criticism: black men aren't apes, any more than Aslan is really Liam Neeson or Jesus Christ. It's fiction, dammit!

Look, if you're going to have a story about a crew of mostly white people sailing off to an unknown, traditional society, you're going to have people freak out. Jackson has one character aboard the ship reading Conrad's Heart of Darkness. Depending on who you listen to, Heart of Darkness is either a cautionary tale about European imperialism; an example of European imperialist attitudes itself (viz the late, great Edward Said); or the inspiration for Nicolas Cage's uncle Francis' Apocalypse Now.

Both Kong and Bareback are love stories. Both end in tragedy, which seems to be the way a lot of our favorite love stories end. Why is this so? Is it because more often than not those initial head-over-heel I'd-gladly-get-shot-off-the-Empire-State-Building-by-byplanes-for-you feelings give way to routine and, in some cases, judging by rates of divorce and infidelity, to ennui? Should we embrace films that teach us that the best loves are the ones that never get a chance to be, the ones that die early? As you ponder these questions this Valentine's Day, get yourself to the theater if you haven't already to see Kong. Wait to see Brokeback on DVD.

Tony Monchinski is a PhD student in the Political Science program.