I saw it, and I'm not gay. I know that a contingent of the Christian community seems to think that by the mere watching of a film like "Brokeback Mountain", with its "communist propaganda" and "homosexual agenda" a straight guy might develop a queer eye, but nothing could be further from the truth. Actually, when I dutifully went to see "Brokeback Mountain" two weeks ago it was sold out. I could have chalked up the red flag to divine providence, but I had also tried to see "The Ringer" and met the same rebuff. Since I didn't want to believe God was overruling my desire to see the comedic star of Jackass fix the special Olympics, I couldn't justify skipping Ang Lee's controversial film that may well win Best Picture or Best Actor this year at the Academy Awards.

The night "Brokeback" sold out, I saw the Golden Globe winning "Memoirs of a Geisha" and hiked the "Mountain" later that week. Seeing both films back-to-back, I found myself with a unique perspective regarding both films that may surprise and challenge some people.

"Brokeback Mountain" focuses on Ennis Del Mar, played by Heath Ledger, a tight-lipped redneck ranch hand in the 1960s looking for any work he can get. He and a stranger named Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhal) spend an isolated summer on the cold mountain the film is named for, and we discover almost immediately that Jack and his father have apparently never gotten along, and Ennis' mother and father passed away when he was young (he was raised by a brother, but now feels abandoned). Both men have glaring problems with fatherly and male affection. Moreover, for Ennis summer's end will bring marriage and responsibilities of husband and future father, which - considering his upbringing - weigh uncomfortably on the young man.

Drinking themselves into a stupor, the two frustrated men eventually engage in a homosexual tryst (I guess the alternative was the sheep). Jack seems more comfortable with this, whereas Ennis is initially resistant. The next morning it's just both of them and the lonely mountain... with seemingly no consequences. The relationship continues as they play like boys during the day, shirk their responsibilities, and play lovers at night. The mountain becomes an oasis from the reality below, with responsibilities and expectations ahead. Called down a month early, Ennis is robbed of any chance for conversation or closure.

Both men marry and have children, but Ennis is a self-centered bigot and a drunk who can't make ends meet; providing for his family irritates him and he pines for the carefree time he spent with Jack and the intimacy that came more easily. When Twist visits, they abscond to the mountains for "fishing trips", seeking to recreate their oasis. Over the years, Jack tries to talk Ennis into leaving wife and children, but Ennis wrestles with varied fears and guilt around what he is doing, what that "makes" him, what others will think or do to them, and more.

Eventually, Ennis' decisions cost him his marriage and leave his life in ruin, because he ultimately can't commit to anything: his job, his wife, his kids, or his homosexual lover on the side. The film ends in a rather pitiful tragedy with very little hope for Ennis, living in a trailer with his regret and only a small hope that perhaps he'll finally invest in the life of his adult daughter.
<!--pagebreak-->
What's unique about this film is that it does little to assign blame; director Ang Lee has done a masterful job displaying damaged people in a flawed culture who live confused lives. A viewer may assign the blame to culture, Jack, Ennis, adultery, genetics, upbringing, or any number of combined factors. They'll likely lay the blame according to whatever worldview they walk in with. Some might paint the abusive, drunken Ennis Del Mar as a victim of a culture that would never accept him. Others might point out that this explanation doesn't justify lies, deceit, adultery, marriage to a woman he won't love, and horrible parenting. Almost all of Lee's films (Sense and Sensibility, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, even The Hulk) carry an undercurrent regarding life - that it is something laborious that must be endured with great patience, if it can be endured at all. The filmmaker vividly captures King Solomon's Ecclesiastical lament, that life is burdensome and wearying and ultimately meaningless. This film depicts a particularly ponderous ponderosa, and Ennis Del Mar is crushed under its weight.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world and several decades earlier, two girls are sold into slavery. One is sent directly to the brothel, but young Chiyo is put up in a house and destined to become "Geisha". What is a Geisha, you ask? Rob Marshall's film unpacks this slowly. The director of "Chicago" gives us a stylized version of Geisha life that seems one part Japanese Cinderella, one part "Showgirls", and one part salvation... at least, until you step away from the PG-13 narrative and think about it.

Blue-eyed Chiyo is a servant in the Geisha house and perceived as a threat by the house favorite, Hatsumomo, though the young girl has no desire to be a geisha and simply wants to find her sister and escape. This is not to be, and she is beaten and oppressed in a world with no choices or freedom. When a wealthy Chairman surrounded by geisha shows the little girl one of the few acts of kindness she's ever received, she decides to become geisha so that she might have the affection of a gentleman like him. An oddly reserved cat-fight begins as Chiyo struggles to become geisha, which seems to be the western equivalent of a highly-paid escort/entertainer. She receives help from another house geisha, Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), whose goal seems to be using the young girl to strategically take down the mean-spirited Hatsumomo and put Chiyo in place to inherit the house.

Chiyo (Zhang Ziyi) rises to become the most famous Geisha in Japan and takes the new name Sayuri. She even enters the world of her beloved Chairman (Ken Watanabe)... but finds herself reluctantly on the arm of the friend to which he owes his life. The advent of World War II disrupts her plan further; there is no time or place for geisha in tumultuous times and she works in a small village, separated from the man she desires to love. After the war, it seems everything she does backfires... but in the end she realizes that the Chairman has been, in a strange fatherly/romantic fashion, guiding events since they first met to raise her up, give her a better life, make her his own and take care of her. It's almost a beautiful portrait of our larger narrative - God's love for us, freeing us from bondage into which we're born - until you step out of the confines of the film and look at the culture and role of the geisha. Throw all the kimono and silk you want over it, geisha is still a synonym for "prostitute".
<!--pagebreak-->
"We sell our skills, not our bodies," Mameha tells Sayuri, "the very word 'geisha' means 'artist'"... (except, of course, when Sayuri's virginity is auctioned off to the highest bidder, a geisha tradition which plays a pivotal role in the film). Artistry, more money, and less frequency doesn't mean you're not a whore. Even the happy ending, pairing her with a man who will take care of her exclusively, cannot hide the fact that the man in question is married with children. The movie takes great pains to paint a portrait and keep us from looking past the edges of the canvas... but ultimately fails. Director Rob Marshall's film is beautiful and endearing, but ultimately fails to have narrative sustenance.

Less endearing but more honest, "Brokeback Mountain" is the film Christians should engage and dialogue with others just as they would any film that deals with adultery, be it hetero or homosexual. Sin is sin. This film ultimately portrays the consequences of adultery and an over-idealized tryst. We don't know what might have happened if Ennis Del Mar had been able to live Jack's dream of an openly homosexual life. Pinning his demeanor and behavior on that restriction is a big assumption; he might have been an equally ornery, abusive drunk with his male lover once reality set in. The problem with both men - also established early in the film - is not merely that they lacked strong or admirable father figures, but that they don't know anything about God their Father, or Jesus, and subsequently know nothing about love, purpose, direction, or being men, seeking to avoid the rigors and roles of a man and perpetually making life harder for each other, stewing in a poisonous combination of pride, bitterness, lust and self-loathing. Despite claims that this film glamorizes or validates homosexuality, "Brokeback Mountain" does not give us well-balanced gay men oppressed by a conservative culture; it depicts damaged and conflicted men trying to mitigate the pain and void in their lives, with unsatisfactory results.