My daughter and I just got home from seeing Brokeback Mountain.
Now there is a portrayal of human spirituality. The capriciousness of joy, the anguish of longing, the vastness of loss.
As Jack and Ennis struggle with what is not to be, I kept thinking of my recently widowed, after not quite four years of marriage, father, saying over Christmas, "I'm so grateful that I have opened myself up to the things I have over the past few years." And then I sat there and cried quietly through the entire last fifteen minutes. The expanse of grief is just what grief is: huge.
This movie could change lives, at least for those of us who always settle, always compromise.
The images of the splendor of the Rockies and the rivers of woolies aren't bad, either.
(And this movie makes that tv show last night look just plain silly.)