Harrison Ball and Jack Twist Photo by Photo by Kyle Flubacker

Quick synopsis: Ennis Del Mar (Harrison Ball) and Jack Twist (Jack Cameron Kay) are a couple of young but experienced ranch hands in the early 1960s who have found jobs herding and minding sheep on the titular mountain. During the summer, they slowly discover a mutual sexual attraction that will quite literally change their lives. After the summer (and the job) ends, they go their separate ways; however, neither is willing to put this relationship behind him. Despite each of them getting married and having children, they keep up their clandestine affair through the next decades.

Though he was the catalyst of the initial affair, Jack is not the story's main focus. It may remain zeroed in on the young men when they are together, but Ennis is the one that Proulx and playwright Ashley Robinson go home with, as we discover how his annually requited feelings for Jack affect the rest of his life, including his wife Alma (Cordelia Dewdney), who discovers her husband's infidelity early on but says nothing for years, seeking to hold on to a "stable" life.

Director Jonathan Butterell took the reins of the second "lit/film adaptation via England" show to grace CST in recent months, after January's Hamnet, and has done a very fine job. This play, practically gift-wrapped for Pride, handles its story well, as did Hamnet. That play, though, had the advantage of being adapted from a book/film not many had seen yet, whereas this one–well, how many in the audience would be unfamiliar with the Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger feature? (Most plays, for example, don't elicit high plains cosplay.)

I need to talk about the fact that this play has an onstage country band featuring singer Kat Eggleston (known here as the Balladeer). She has a lovely, gentle, almost maternal voice and is a strong addition to a play that in all honesty has little in the way of plot. (It's only 90 fairly quiet minutes long, including the songs.) The problem with the songs, written by Dan Gillespie Sells, is that they do not come from the points of view of the characters, so they come across more as commentary than as development, and the effect is that, lovely though they may be, they mostly just interrupt the action rather than further it.

Chicago Tribune theatre critic Chris Jones deserves credit for this notion: Brokeback Mountain, as a play, might work better as a full musical. As I watched the show, something just wasn't working for me despite my investment in the characters. It was only when I considered Jones's idea that I understood where my problem was coming from: sometimes we just yearn to listen in on a character's thoughts. Some plays allow for monologues, but this one, featuring only one loquacious character (Jack) among others who don't speak much at all, would not work in that format. But a musical, in which songs are an accepted aspect of thought delivery for even the most taciturn character, might be perfect. As it is, the songs are nice but hardly memorable; if sung by the characters, exploring their emotions, they could be granted a potent power that they don't have when sung by a woman at the side of the stage.

I started this review afresh after realizing why I was having so much trouble expressing my viewpoint before. I was a bit hesitant because, well, I have never before adapted my point of view on a play because of another critic. But when he is right, he is right–and here I strongly feel that he is indeed right. Brokeback Mountain is fine in its current format, but a restructuring could make it a classic.

Brokeback Mountain runs through June 28, 2026, at Chicago Shakespeare Theater on Navy Pier, 800 East Grand Avenue, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit www.chicagoshakes.com