As it celebrates its twentieth anniversary, it’s easy to say the legacy of Brokeback Mountainis undeniable. Since being released in 2005, it has been hailed as one of the best romances, Westerns, and queer stories; it has become a highlight in the careers of both its stars, Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal; and, despite going home with three Oscars, its Best Picture loss is considered one of the Oscars’ biggest faux pas. Despite all the acclaim now, and at the time of its release in 2005, the story of two cowboys forced to hide their love was controversial and subjected to homophobia. Academy Award winner and Mermaid Man himself, Ernest Borgnine, famously said “if John Wayne were alive, he’d be rolling over in his grave.” Even though this quote doesn’t make any sense, the undertones were clear. But Brokeback Mountain had already faced uphill battles, starting with the very moment someone decided to make a movie out of it.
‘Brokeback Mountain’ Had a High Pedigree from the Beginning
The story of Brokeback Mountain is chronicled in the book “Brokeback Mountain: Story to Screenplay,” and begins with writer Diana Ossanadiscovering the short story in the October 13th, 1997 issue of The New Yorker. Ossana was immediately captured by “Brokeback Mountain’s” “spare narrative” and “its rawness and power.” Ossana went to sleep in tears and immediately read the short story again the next morning, discovering more and more layers to the characters. She immediately felt a calling to adapt “Brokeback Mountatin” into a film because it “ought to be out in the world in some major, major way,” but she had to convince her writing partner. At that time, Ossana was living in the home of her co-writer Larry McMurtry, the famed author of the western epic Lonesome Dove, which won him a Pulitzer Prize. As Ossana tells it, McMurtry didn’t read short fiction (because he couldn’t write it), but was won over by Ossana’s pleas for him to give it a chance. Fifteen minutes later, McMurtry had read the story and told Ossana it was “the best short story he had ever read.” The two agreed to write the adaptation and then the troubles began.
After writing a letter to the short story’s author, another recent Pulitzer Prize winner, Annie Proulx. Ossana pitched it to her and McMurtry’s screenwriting manager, who immediately told her “it would never get made.” But Ossana convinced him to read the story, and he was won over. Proulx was won over too, agreed to option Ossana and McMurtry the story (despite not “really seeing a movie here,”) and was pleased with the screenplay the duo ended up writing. McMurtry was no stranger to adaptation, his own books being turned into the widely celebrated The Last Picture Show and Terms of Endearment, but now a major figure in Texas literature, Ossana worried about his reputation being affected by what would soon become known around Hollywood as “a story about gay cowboys” subverting the myth of the American West. McMurtry told her he “hadn’t given it much thought.” On the other hand, according to his biography, McMurtry “wished he had written [the story] ” himself. He called it “a story that had been sitting there all my life, waiting in patient distance for someone to write it,” both attracted to its literary traditions of “doomed young men” and the taboo but present nature of homosexuality in his Texas youth (which had been touched on in his novels.) Despite the passion and enthusiasm from all involved the script wasn’t met with bated breaths.
Even the Beloved Script Had Trouble Attaching Talent
As Ossana describes on the podcast Script Apart, the script was acclaimed by anyone who read it, but no one was willing to make it. It was labeled “a story about gay cowboys” and even with two Pulitzer prize winners on the script’s cover page, people took no interest in reading it. One director attached himself right away, Gus Van Sant, not too far off his Oscar-nominated work on Good Will Hunting. Van Sant, a gay man who had and would continue to explore queer stories in films like Milk and My Own Private Idaho, would have been a natural fit as director, but he ran into trouble casting the parts of Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist. He felt they needed to be big stars in order for the film to break through, but Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Ryan Phillippe all said no. Even Matt Damon told Van Sant (per Ossana on Script Apart), “Gus, I just did a gay movie (The Talented Mr. Ripley), then a cowboy movie (All the Pretty Horses). I can’t follow it up with a gay cowboy movie!” Mark Wahlberg, according to McMurtry’s biography, was “creeped out” only 15 pages into reading the screenplay. At one point, Josh Hartnett and Joaquin Phoenix were attached, but this combination fell apart due to other commitments. Van Sant left the project and directors Pedro Almodóvar and Joel Schumacher were briefly interested, but there was no major movement for over half a decade.
Ossana was worried the film may never come to be, but McMurtry told her it was an excellent script and “good work will always find its way.” One day the script made its way into the hands of producer Michael Costigan, who immediately fell in love with it and convinced Ossana to bring him aboard, which lead them to Universal’s relatively new independent wing Focus Features. The new company was being run by producer and screenwriter James Schamus, who had previously tried to make Brokeback Mountain as an independent producer. Ossana and McMurtry thought Schamus and frequent collaborator Ang Lee would be perfect after their romantic tragedy Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Lee was occupied with his Hulk film (and considering retirement) initially, but when Costigan and Ossana returned to Focus with the script, Lee reconsidered and agreed to direct with Schamus producing. Ossana then fought for Heath Ledger, a recommendation by her daughter, and while Larry McMurtry only watched half of Monster’s Ball, he agreed Ledger was good, and said “that young man’s Ennis.” Ledger loved the script and eventually he, Gyllenhaal, Michelle Williams, and Anne Hathaway were all off to Alberta, Canada for filming in early 2004.
Once the film was made and released, more people were happy to see “a story about gay cowboys.” The film proved to be so powerful, even some conservative critics had to admit the film was impactful. The stigma, despite rave reviews and making over $150 million at the box office, remained come the Oscars, with Ossana realizing the outlook for winning was grim when Clint Eastwood told her he hadn’t seen the movie. She believed homophobia was the main cause, saying “we had won everything else,” but ultimately Crash took home the top prize. But Brokeback Mountain lives on not only with its re-release, but a West End adaptation for the stage. In the end, McMurtry ended up being right, and good work had found its way to the people.
