I posted this letter on imdb.com and got very nice responses. I meant it in a way to be funny since I'd just come home all red-eyed from crying after a 2nd viewing and needed something to hide that from my mother who doesn't think I should spend so much money at the movie theater (I have a very low-paying job & I know how Ennis feels ^_~). On the drive home, despite trying to think of anything besides BBM so as to stop my tears, this letter came to my head (think of it as a letter to the editor of sorts). So here it is, I hope you enjoy! ^_^
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I'm aiming for a good round 5 more views of BBM before the Oscars, and though this has got to be one of my favorite movies of all time, I don't know how much more viewer frustration I can take. So I wrote a letter to whom it concerns. I wonder if he'll respond
Dear Ennis del Mar (a.k.a. complex character of fiction),
I have a bone to pick with you. Brokeback Mountain is the perfect title for your story because everytime I hear Jack say "it could be like this always" it makes me really wanna slap you hard on the jaw. Brokeback was only where it started, NOT where it needed to linger. You about fell apart the minute Jack drove out of your sight that first summer. Opportunity #1...GONE. Whoosh. Inside I'm rolling my eyes. Face up. It's your own damn fault, Ennis. You'll get no sympathy from me. And yet to know how you really feel even then makes me want to understand what it had to be like for a man in your boots. Sounds like emotional toture, really. I want you to do the right thing. But then there you are in your tuxedo... you go on to marry the woman you met before the man. Keep your promise to her, right? The woman you now know has nothing on the man. Don't break the engagement. Might as well be with someone if you can't be with him, right? Sure, you could pretend all you wanted. But you knew. I'd say that marriage should've never come to pass, seeing how it almost ruined your life & hers, but then again I couldn't deprive you of your daughters, the only beings to keep you company in your old age while you get pleasure from seeing Jack Twist in your dreams. Yes, Mr. Jack fu**in' Twist, who I doubt would have been tire-ironed to death if you'd been around to kick some ass. Drop kick the masses into acceptance! I mean come on, you served those bikers their own balls on a vintage Harley seat pad. Still, you know what I think? I think Jack was a saint to put up with your impressive mixture of homophobia vs. phobia of homophobia. In my eyes Randall had nothin' on you. Well, no, he did have one thing. He'd hole up with Jack if he asked. You lose. Game over. I'm a cold girl.
To your surprise you get a 2nd chance. You wait by your window for hours in your best shirt waiting for his truck to pull up. You're not sure what'll happen. You know he's still thinking of you and, secretly, you of him. You're more excited than you've been in years. What the hell's wrong with you? You couldn't wait to kiss him like that right out in the open but you can't cope with the idea of two men living together? Lucky for you the Motel has a back entrance (preference of champions) and Jack as the town stranger gets the room. "I don't care," he says to the owner, "long as the room don't smell like cat piss or beans. Done that already." He makes references to going away with you as you both inhale on cigarettes, deep in thought after "jouncing the bed." Opportunity #2...GONE. Whoosh. Of course it's not an option. "I'm stuck with the life I got." How characteristically pessimistic of you, Ennis! Realists should be the first to realize that failure ensues when you don't try. Just try. For
him.
He drives an entire day to see you after your divorce. Ready and rarin' to pick out some curtains. Don't pay any attention to that white truck driving in the distance! Uh-oh, too late. Your worst fear. Someone's gonna see you...your daughters might tell their teachers... Opportunity #3...GONE. Whoosh. Going back & reliving your first summer year after year wasn't what Jack had in mind. But he did it. He did it for LONG ass time, wondering when you'd come to your senses. Because it meant 2 or 3 weeks out of 52 to spend with you, the real you, the Ennis who wasn't held back by society's conformity. Year after year you can see the relationship deteriorating, starting to go as stale as remnants inside week-old cans of those beans you so despised littering the campsite, the "brilliance" of your "infrequent couplings" marred only by the gloom of never having enough time, the long distance and months without word, your never being there and his unsuccessful attempts to change your mind eventually take their toll. Brokeback is just a place. Its power was never real. Reality was up to you the minute you stepped off that mountain. Tick-tock, time's running out on ya, Ennis. I still don't want to give you any sympathy (yes I do) but dammit, if Jack's done it for almost 20 years I guess I can give you some for the two-hour duration of this film.
Here she comes, cute little blonde with sweet eyes and perky demeanor. Crimeny, stop letting little waitress girls come on to you and break their hearts. It's a vicious cycle of lies you could've never started. You're not an old man yet. Don't be set in your ways. The *real* frustrating thing? Had 1963 been 1993, you wouldn't be the focus of such a sad movie that's making everyone think so hard. There probably would be a ranch somewhere right now with two guys raising cattle...one a bull-rider..."in more ways than one" he says out loud with a little smile and that electric gleam in his eye. His special power over you you'd never admit... all he knows is you really wanted that life with him there.
Cassie wants to dance... you tell her politely you're with a man. And then apologize like one, giving a little nod towards the blue-eyed chatty-happy bloke with the mustache sitting next to you. Watch her stomp off, possibly disgusted, definitely pride-hurt, plans thwarted, but you know you did the right thing. She'll get over it. And by three a.m. you'll be one of the two men sawing logs in that comfortable bed next to the open window with a clear view of the full moon that started it all. Very unlike that thin unforgiving cat-piss tent and far better than your future shithole empty trailer.
But you go ahead. Go on and try to get sympathy from me, you bastard. (You'll get it by the barrelfuls.) I wish I knew how to quit you, you and your sad movie. All of us knowing in the end you couldn't fix it and seeing you having to stand it for a long, long time, your decisions haunting us for days--no, MONTHS afterward. Can I dig my spurs into your back now?
Frustratingly yours,
Loyal BBM Moviegoer #6,726,579