3/8/23 - Brokeback Mountain, Soho Theatre
Sometimes, the events of a day can transport the mind from reality, launching it straight into the land of dreams; with good old serendipity conjuring up interactions you would never have conceived of having in the first place.
This was, for me and my mum, certainly true of our time in London on Thursday: having realised the day prior that we just happened to be able to catch this matinee before a later event, we then just happen to bump into some fellow Mancunian friends viewing the same show, with whom we enjoyed some drinks with in the evening (made possible by my mum just happening to have booked the later train).
The same could also be said of the story that unfolded before our eyes in the intimate space of Soho Theatre that afternoon.
You know the one - brought to your attention by the brilliant directorial vision of Ang Lee, the masterful performances of Jake Gyllenhall, Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams, and by the media attention - positive or otherwise - the sum of their work has garnered since.
Perhaps universally known through its 2005 film adaptation, Annie Proulx's short story, 'Brokeback Mountain,' reached into an idiosyncratic pocket of Midwestern American society (as the author did in many of her narratives), unveiling in the process a turbulent and multi-faceted whirlwind of humanity: loss, love, life and all of its warts, withstood by the tale's two central characters.
The first to which the reader is introduced is Ennis Del Mar, an old man on his lonesome depicted milling about his trailer, awaiting a mug of stale coffee and the comfort that he expects to find in reminiscing upon the several experiences he and the story's other focal character, Jack Twist, had together; as young men tending sheep for pay during the summer on the titular mountain, to their subsequent interactions, all in the midst of time's never-ending ebb and flow.
Though I implore you to read Proulx's (quite frankly) perfect piece of prose in full - I could never do her words justice in this wee blog of mine, nor should I try to do so - I will provide a snippet that I find encapsulates the inescapable element of tragedy conveyed by Del Mar and Twist's tale, that which lurked beneath Thursday's performance throughout its duration:
One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by the sense of time flying, never enough time, never enough.
At the 2:30 matinee - the turnout substantial for a show at such a time - all were abuzz at the prospect of so influential and ground-breaking a narrative as Brokeback Mountain being brought to the stage, let alone the West End, for the first time. The anticipation was palpable everywhere in the relatively-new Soho Theatre, permeating ever so softly in the chic café/bar and looming large in the seats surrounding the canvas upon which the cast were soon to paint with their long-honed craft. (This sense of suspense was briefly dissolved by the actor of Ennis in older age, Paul Hickey, who reassured the audience that we could talk from his outstretched position on the bed of his trailer.)
As you've likely cottoned on, the play walks decidedly in step with the original short story; presenting in its first minutes the self-same scene of Del Mar awaking, brewing coffee with a yawn and recalling - this time, with a deep inhalation of an old plaid shirt resting as he so recently did under the covers - his distant past.
From the moment the two young ranchers cross paths, their differences are immediately stark. While the younger Ennis - portrayed by Lucas Hedges - solemnly approaches the prospect of a summer spent atop a mountain watching sheep, Mike Faist's Jack Twist captivates with his contrasting bounciness as he takes no time in greeting the other cowboy with a firm handshake.
The audience is treated to the two actors' skilful and deeply considered interpretations of their respective characters - doubly demonstrative when you consider they are both making their West End debuts - in these opening scenes. See, the newly-confirmed colleagues' excursion to a local bar to commemorate what is to be a summer experienced together. Hedges, sat adjacent to Faist, curates an enigmatic air about him and quietly listens while the latter speaks excitedly of his favourite Texan spirit and eventually acknowledges - with the actor's on-point comedic timing - that his counterpart 'ain't much of a talker'.
Though the audience would be forgiven for seeing no feasible future ahead for the two cowboys - seemingly devoid of similarities save for their sense of style and shared living space up on Brokeback - Del Mar and Twist quickly grow accustomed to one another's personalities and, through a few exchanges, we watch on as a beautiful relationship begins to burgeon.
One such interaction carried with it an almost indescribable wholesomeness. As the night draws in, an erratic and slightly tispy Twist, harmonica in hand, begins to bust out some childhood favourites of his. Del Mar, recognising a tune, sings along in a suitably low rasp.
They proceed like this, one awestruck cowboy watching on as the other prances and toots away about the campfire, until the crackling fire starts to subside and they settle on sleeping either in (Twist) or out (Del Mar) of the tent. It is in this paragraph that I will commend the sheer level of effort Mike Faist clearly put into this role; learning to play harmonica in a way that made it appear completely effortless, no less.
Of course, those knowledgeable of the narrative will be aware of the tremendous significance of this night, in which Ennis smartly abides by Jack's suggestion to move out from the freezing cold and into the warmer tent, the two share a duvet and end up having their first interaction of a sexual nature.
While I would understand the perspective that the underlying tenderness of this moment could have been conveyed better than just through noises and movements performed from beneath the tent, the obvious restrictions presented by the context and the theatre format leads me to the conclusion that this scene ultimately served its purpose well as a signifier of the couple's newfound freedom to be sexual with one another and enjoy intimacy together.
Just as we think we can get comfortable in the knowledge that Del Mar and Twist are content as can be atop the mountain, in strolls the boss man Joe Aguirre (Martin Marquez) who chastises Jack when he is alone over the two neglecting their responsibilities while they 'stemmed the rose,' having witnessed them together through his binoculars. Coincidentally, Aguirre returns days later to inform Ennis and Jack that they are to descend the mountain and collect their pay in the face of an approaching storm...thus abruptly ending their companionship.
Faist and Hedges portray their characters' dismay and despair at the prospect of their sudden separation subtly and powerfully, so that when they stand adjacent with their heads bowed in silence, it is deafening.
Further struggles befall the cowboys as the years drag on. Our attention is focused, as in the written text, on Ennis: his marriage to Alma (Emily Fairn, another West End debutant), the family life they share with two young children, the ranch work he undertakes for little pay, all events that Hedges responds to with downtrodden submission to his life's monotony. Jack Twist only re-enters the fray after a period of four years, when he and Ennis decide to meet once again.
Here is where the true nuanced nature of Proulx's narrative takes to the fore. While the audience is revitalised in the hope that Jack and Ennis are and can continually be together once more, they are simultaneously exposed to the horror experienced by Ennis' wife when she sees her husband lovingly kissing the man he introduced to her as a 'fishing buddy'. One of the most heart-tugging pieces of the production is Fairn's Alma dissolving into sobs at the kitchen table, astray from who she thought she was intended to spend her life with.
So many examples of talent proliferate Brokeback Mountain, a prominent one being the musical arrangements sounding betwixt and occasionally over the top of its scenes. While the show's usual balladeer, Eddi Reader, was not available for the matinee we attended, her understudy Sophie Reid transfixed the audience whenever she sang, plucked her guitar or blew into her harmonica. And the songs that she and the band behind her performed, all composed by The Feeling's Dan Gillespie Sells, were (sorry, Eddi) a perfect accompaniment: incorporating slide guitar, soulful piano and yearning lyrics without ever feeling cloying or overdone.
As for the two main men, Mike Faist is luminescent as Jack Twist, the many alluring mannerisms and intricacies within his performance gleaming like gems for the audience to admire whenever he steps onto the stage. (Peak Faistisms of which to note were his finger click after exclaiming ‘we should go to Mexico!’ his impeccable rhetorical timing and running off the dim-lit stage stark naked - for which I will give you no context!) Lucas Hedges inhabits the role of Ennis Del Mar with gravitas, highlighting his Twist-assisted transition from repressed young man to angry, emotive and ceaselessly expressive; the latter evidenced no better than in the play's gutting final scene.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching Brokeback Mountain's effervescent cast, backed by a stunning musical ensemble and roaming a wonderous set - which included a bed with a sliding mechanism utilising which cast members could 'magically appear' in it and a transistor radio whose crackling sound only enhanced the play's feeling of homeliness - and would highly recommend it to anyone looking to sink their teeth into one of Proulx's best works through a different avenue to either the story or the film...which you should indulge in regardless, but do keep an eye out for this triumphant show when (and I mean when, not if) it comes around again!
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