The Adventures of QueerPenguin

4-Day Weekend

(Took Friday off between Oz Day and the weekend, you see.)

First: Ching-ching to my twin brother, Roger, for showing the world once again that being a class act is genetic.

There's been a lot of discussion in the last few days about tears and break-downs post Brokeback Mountain viewings, but damned if this wasn't the image that got me a bit salt-watery:

As I've always suspected, Roger is a beautifully sensitive man beneath the ice-cold demeanour he takes with him onto court. I just wanted to hold him until the pain went away. He is a player worthier of No 1 status than Spewwie, Roddick and Ferrero combined, and I believe his legacy will surpass that of Agassi, Sampras, Edberg, Lendl and McEnroe, to name a few.

Plus he looks like me. What a superstar.

Meanwhile, can we please agree on a life-long ban on the John Alexander/Jim Courier commentary team? Their frequent mutual masturbation sessions over Marcos Baghadtis' (apparently) hot girlfriend got me very Maggie from Little Britian.

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Now, speaking of BBM: Giving one's opinions on this film is so hot right now, so here I go. Saw it - eventually - on Oz Day, but not before my car broke down on the 20km drive to Macquarie Gold Class (no, I don't go to Macquarie by choice, it's just that they weren't showing it at Bondi Junction GC).

Exquisite film - and unlike when I read the story, I didn't shed a tear. Not because I'm one of those types who likes to be different to everybody else - I mean, duh, the movie is devastating, of course I was saddened.

But I also realised a sense of hope I did not feel from the book. Ultimately, Ennis Del Mar is a better man for the love he has shared with Jack Twist, and in some ways Jack's

*SPOILER*

brutal and premature death immortalises that love. The resolution of the film, which suggests Ennis will be a better father to his daughter - and, indeed, that his daughter is aware of her father's secret and does not love him any less for it - is beautiful.

As with all his films, Ang Lee allows his scenery rather than characters to say volumes. The paragon of cinematography. Brokeback Mountain is truly personified, a kindly, protective and non-judgmental landlady who allows two unconventional lodgers to stay in her home and, for a period, develop and nurture a love that would get them kicked out of most other places.

Watching the film was a reminder that, contrary to common tag-lines, this is neither a gay nor a cowboy film. Firstly, they are sheep wranglers, and secondly, I got the impression that although Jack, "sensitive" in the way that that adjective is often used as code for homosexual (remember Blanche duBois' "sensitive" husband?) was gay, Ennis was not - he was in love with one man only, and that love transcended any kind of sexual barriers.

Acting was uniformly first-rate, but for me the break-away performance was not Heath Ledger, but rather Anne Hathaway as Jack's wife. Anne Hathaway - she of the Princess Diaries franchise and Ella Enchanted?! Her interpretation of Lureen Newsome speaks of a performer with insight and intelligence far beyound her years and capacity certainly far beyond what her CV would suggest. It will be a grave oversight if she is not nominated in the Best Supporting Actress category come Oscar nominations tomorrow.

Predictable rating, but 5 stars Margaret. This is a film without fault.

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Other high/lowlights of 4-day weekend: Riding to Bondi from Drummoyne with a 60-something tow-truck driver who, without provocation, proceeded to detail the various women he had allegedly picked up in the last few weeks from bus stops, KFC stores and other exotic locations. I think that was the longest drive I've ever been on in my life. Another Maggie moment.

Yum Cha with my homo uncles at Marrickville on Chinese New Year (yesterday). In some ways, eating seafood and pork and drinking champers before 11:30am seems so wrong. In other ways, it's so right.

Being able to actually wake up early on a Sunday morning and be functional and sociable after a long night's trashing at the Midnight Shaft. Maybe I'm not as old as I sometimes whinge after all.

posted by Sam @ Monday, January 30, 2006