★★★★★ Still a Heartbreaker, Now on Stage
by Bob Verini
Ashley Robinson’s take on Brokeback Mountain, now playing at London’s @sohoplace, not only dodges the bullet of misbegotten stage adaptations of non-musical movies, but actually scores a couple bullseyes all its own. Fearlessly tackling still-green memories of Ang Lee’s iconic, even beloved doomed romance set against the great outdoors, the production directed by Jonathan Butterell finds new intimacy in Annie Proulx’s original story. Just as boldly, it offers lead performances from Mike Faist and Lucas Hedges that can stand without apology against those of Jake Gyllenhaal and the late Heath Ledger – different, but no less emotionally true.
Robinson and Butterell set a new tone from the opening as the scratchy bedside radio wakes up neither young ranch hand Ennis Del Mar (Hedges) nor rodeo rider Jack Twist (Faist), but Paul Hickey as “Older Ennis.” His wordless morning routine instantly reveals a used-up soul wasting time until death in a beat-up trailer, with little but a bottle of booze and a long-ago-worn friend’s shirt to keep him company. That garment, of course, is Ellis’s only remaining talisman of his one true love. The image that ends Proulx’s novella and Lee’s film, kicks this version off.
Hickey’s presence onstage throughout – intensely watching all that occurs without actively participating in it – signals an intriguing, reminiscence-forward approach to Proulx’s matter-of-fact narrative. It’s still the tragedy of two men whose love could not be controlled or quit across the decades, but which could not speak its name because of society’s structures and an individual’s shame. But now the tragedy consistently gains heft from a laser focus on the one who couldn’t accept his own nature, even after wife Alma (Emily Fairn) cut him loose to, presumably, go his own way. As the sole agent of his downfall Ennis cannot escape his grief, and in this production, neither can we.
Hedges, whose many sensitive-youth film roles were echoed in Broadway’s The Waverly Gallery, mans-up decisively here. Over the years, whether exploring taboo sexual boundaries or struggling to do right financially by his ex-wife and daughters, he wears his anguish on his face much more than did the repressed, iron-jawed Ledger. But Hedges’ expressiveness – altogether appropriate for the stage – makes us ever more aware of his emotional dilemmas, especially with his older self constantly registering resignation brought on by time.
Meanwhile, where Gyllenhaal’s rodeo bum was slick and sly, Faist is a true wild man, leaping and wa-hooing with the freedom of one who knows who he is and has the whole Wyoming frontier to show it in. He’s thrilled to have found a kindred spirit explains the growing exasperation at each brief, abortive encounter until a jealous Ennis demands to know whether he’s “been to Mexico,” i.e. been with other men, prompting Jack’s famous tirade ending “I wish I knew how to quit you” with startling rage. Faist, for my money the true star discovery of the West Side Story remake, cements his status as one of the most exciting young actors around.
By definition the other elements of Brokeback Mountain will always play second fiddle to Ennis and Jack, but Robinson cannily extends and deepens the scenes of their meetings, and Butterell does right by the supporting cast, with Fairn quietly moving in her reduced role as Alma, and Martin Marquez breathing authenticity as the guys’ herd boss (though I couldn’t understand a word he said). Tom Pye’s set pieces, many rising up from the floor and back again, enhance fluidity and hints of place, as do David Finn’s evocative lighting and Christopher Shutt’s spot-on sound cues.
The show is billed as “a play with music,” and this seems right for a story of people whose lives are permeated by country melodies in bars and clubs. Songs by Dan Gillespie Sills, in fact, often fade from the radio to live and back again, as performed by a balladeer (Eddi Reader) and a fine four-piece country combo. Some of the lyrics seem a bit too on-the-nose (“There were two/On the mountain flying/In euphoric bitter air”), but in general they set the mood, keep things moving, and never obtrude.
The production introduces the first new West End Theatre in a half century, @sohoplace. Located just off Charing Cross Road below Oxford Street, the versatile 600-seat venue was built by Nica Burns and is part of the Nimax group.
Young’uns, and those not yet familiar with the events, will enjoy this version even more than fans of the film. And don’t let your tears blur the final tableau. It’s a knockout.
★★★★☆ The Hot-Hot Film Now Sizzles on Stage
by David Finkle
No matter who the lovers are, there are many ways in which their stars can be crossed. In Annie Proulx’s Brokeback Mountain, a prize-winning New Yorker short story published in 1997, those lovers are undone by the love that cannot speak its name—at least not in the Wyoming of 1963.
Star-crossed lovers are, of course, a favorite artistic theme, which led in Proulx’s case to the Ang Lee movie adaptation many still believe should have won that year’s Oscar but didn’t – perhaps because too many voters still didn’t like to hear its name not only spoken but so graphically acted by Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal.
That controversial name is being spoken and passionately enacted again in Ashley Robinson’s stage adaptation of the same title. As directed by Jonathan Butterell, Mike Faist (Stephen Spielberg’s West Side Story) and Lucas Hedges (Manchester by the Sea Oscar nominee) consider no holds of any amorous or violent kind as barred. They further flourish under Kevin McCurdy’s fight direction and Tommy Ross-Williams‘ intimacy direction.
Robinson hews closely to Proulx’s story and to the successful film but brings his own ideas to the steely project, calling it “a play with music.” Throughout the prolonged but ultimately sorrowful clandestine Jack Twist (Faist)-Ennis Del Mar (Hedges) affair, songs by Dan Gillespie Sells, sung by “Balladeer” Eddi Reader and played by Sean Green’s four-person band, thread through. They’re country songs emphasizing the lonesome existence cowhands (in this instance) often lead, despite marriages and children left at home.
The most innovative addition Robinson introduces is presenting this Brokeback Mountain as a memory play. The action is recalled in Ennis’s mind several decades on, Older Ennis played in almost complete silence by a moving Paul Hickey. He relives the initially torrid cowhands’ meetings and their eventual tormented later years, which are severed by an incident that deepens their societally doomed – surely in the Wyoming of those years – plight.
There may be those who’ll regard Robinson’s version superior to the movie. Contributing to that would be the heart-rending image just before designer David Finn shuts his lights out.
Older Ennis is an added character, yes, but for his intermissionless 105-minute revise of the movie Robinson retains only a few of Proulx’s minor characters. Ennis’s wife Alma (Emily Fairn) remains at first confused and later wised up by her taciturn husband’s fishing trips that never yield any fish. Jack’s rich wife Lureen (Sophie Reed) only passes through briefly. Her controlling father, who reportedly hates Jack, is never seen, nor are Ennis’ and Alma’s two daughters.
Brokeback Mountain is presented in the round with set and costume designer Tom Pye planting a long and wide platform, often sprouting kitchens and various bedrooms, at an angle. The mountain where Ennis and Jack forge their relationship, often around a small fire, is just below one side of the platform.
After the womenless men have their first feisty sex bout inside a tent, they spend part of the next morning insisting they’re not queer, then giving an ardent demonstration that they may be fooling themselves. Some ticket buyers might wonder why they never discuss their behavior beyond that exchange while extending their love fervently for 20 years. Jack accuses Ennis of being not much of a talker early on, but at that repressed Rocky Mountains era, no talk likely was the widely prevalent thing. All the same, their continuing close-mouthed attitude could be considered Brokeback Mountain’s sole missing element.
For anyone wondering, Brokeback Mountain is a fictional place, and that raises another question: Did Proulx think about calling the secluded location Brokeheart Mountain? Probably not; that would have been too on the nose. Nevertheless, Brokeback Mountain is a genuine heartbreaker.
Brokeback Mountain opened May 18, 2023 at @sohoplace (London) and runs through August 12. Tickets and information: sohoplace.org