Issue 3: Don't Bother Me, I'm Thinking
By Medulla Vesuvius

Brokeback + x = Instant Humor

This year, the gay cowboy movie was up for eight Academy Awards, by my hasty count. Regardless of the fact that it only took two Oscars home, (more accurately, “the people that worked on the film only took home two Oscars”), I will remember this film not for it’s social significance or for the discussion of homosexuality that it has encouraged, but for another reason– its’ ability to worm it’s way into the American humorous psyche.

Here’s the deal. I have increasingly witnessed the word “Brokeback” used for comedic effect. For instance: “Brokeback Bowling” or “Brokeback Cancer Check” or “Brokeback to the Future.” Apparently the humor potential for this compound word is off the charts. This could be the next “Just flew in from (blank) and boy are my arms tired!” or “Let me tell you the difference between black people and white people…”

I think this film should be commended, if only for its’ ability to affect the humor of culture far removed from Hollywood. It’s no easy task to embed into the joke-consciousness of average Americans. Not for a lasting time anyway. That’s why I’m really pulling for this “Brokeback” business. In twenty years, I hope that we’re still using the word “Brokeback” as a funny synonym for “gay cowboy.” That would be such a coup. Here’s why: Brokeback Mountain is a monumentally sad movie.

I’m sure I’m not ruining it for anybody when I say that one of the characters is killed for who he is and the other is left living alone in a small trailer in the middle of nowhere. You see in this movie how the forbidden desires of two people have far-reaching effects, spinning off into the lives of other people–wives, families, kids. There are no free choices, no choices without dire consequences. This is a movie full of dread building up over what is supposed to be years. And that’s probably why it’s obviously respected amongst the motion picture tastemakers like The Academy and critics.

But those kinds of “artistic” or “dramatic” movies aren’t supposed to influence the national humorscape. That’s supposed to be the job of comedies, especially those made by Mike Myers. Think of all of the funny catchphrases that have come about from the Austin Powers series: “Do I make you horny baby?” “Someone throw me a frickin’ bone here!” “Yeah, baby, Yeah!” And let us not forget Wayne’s World: “NOT!” “We’re not worthy!” “Schwing!”

Let’s try a little experiment: “Schindler’s Bowling.” “Million Dollar Cancer Check.” No, the humor’s just not there like it is with “Brokeback.” But Schindler’s List is monumentally sad, too. It’s got a much higher senseless body count, both on-screen and as a sub-text. It’s a Best Picture winner, just like Million Dollar Baby. These are respected movies, just like Brokeback Mountain. Why aren’t they funny to us? What’s the difference?

Gay people.

They’re just funny to us for some reason, even if in an uncomfortable way, to a certain strand of people. You want to talk about a “million dollar baby”, place a swishy gay male character in your movie and hilarity is bound to ensue, right? But, strangely, The Birdcage, which is full of homosexual characters, didn’t even make a blip on the humor radar screen. Neither did To Wong Foo…Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar. Neither did Dwight Ewell’s performance as Hooper X in Chasing Amy, surprisingly. These are comedies with gay characters that you never hear about. No one goes around talking about how someone is “soo Hooper.”

But this “Brokeback” is something else entirely. What makes these brooding, gay cowboys so well suited for humor? Maybe I just answered my own question: gay cowboys.

Until now, the cowboy has been an archetype of rugged, stoic, manliness in the American unconscious. The Duke. Eastwood. These were individualist characters that were too busy kicking butt and setting the world to right to fool around with love and “feelings.” The idea of a cowboy in love with anybody, much less someone of his own sex, was kind of hard to swallow. Maybe the comedy we derive from gay cowboys is a kind of nervous laughter resulting from messing around with the assumptions of the masses. Until now, the idea of a homosexual cowboy has been an oxymoron, a combination of mutually exclusive terms. Faced with such a contradiction, the human mind can either break down into madness or laugh at the absurdity.

And so Brokeback Mountain has inspired us to laugh.

Addendum: Woe unto Douglas McCombs, the creative force behind Thrill Jockey Records band Brokeback. Even though he’s been making beautiful albums under that name since 1997, he is certainly facing an uphill struggle if he wants to carry on with his career since his band name has become a joke. Sorry, Douglas. Maybe I Wish I Knew How to Quit You is still open for a band name.