Milk

In 1977, Harvey Milk was elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, becoming the first openly gay man to be voted into public office in America. His victory was not just a victory for gay rights; he forged coalitions across the political spectrum. From senior citizens to union workers, Harvey Milk changed the very nature of what it means to be a fighter for human rights and became, before his untimely death in 1978, a hero for all Americans. Sean Penn stars as Harvey Milk under the direction of Gus Van Sant in Milk, filmed on location in San Francisco from an original screenplay by Dustin Lance Black, and produced by Dan Jinks and Bruce Cohen. Milk charts the last eight years of Harvey Milk’s life. While living in New York City, he turns 40. Looking for more purpose, Milk and his lover Scott Smith (James Franco) relocate to San Francisco, where they found a small business, Castro Camera, in the heart of a working-class neighborhood. With his beloved Castro neighborhood and beautiful city empowering him, Milk surprises Scott and himself by becoming an outspoken agent for change. With vitalizing support from Scott and from new friends like young activist Cleve Jones (Emile Hirsch), Milk plunges headfirst into the choppy waters of politics. Bolstering his public profile with humor, Milk’s actions speak even louder than his gift-of-gab words. When Milk is elected supervisor for the newly zoned District 5, he tries to coordinate his efforts with those of another newly elected supervisor, Dan White (Josh Brolin). But as White and Milk’s political agendas increasingly diverge, their personal destinies tragically converge. Milk’s platform was and is one of hope – a hero’s legacy that resonates in the here and now.

The movie opens with news footage that states that Harvey Milk and then-Mayor George Moscone have been assassinated. The movie then cuts to Milk meeting Scott Smith on a subway platform. The two easily fall in love and spend the night in Milk's apartment. Anxious to find more purpose in their lives, he and his lover Scott Smith move to San Francisco, where they open a camera store, Castro Camera, in the heart of the city's predominantly gay neighborhood known as The Castro. Milk becomes a spokesperson for equal rights for all and, while finding support among people from all backgrounds, he becomes a mentor to aspiring activist Cleve Jones. His political ambitions ultimately consume his life and destroy his relationship with Smith. During this time, he becomes acquainted with Dan White, who is anti-homosexual and resents his presence. Milk eventually breaks up with Smith and meets Jack Lira. Milk falls in love with him because of Lira's unpretentious, easy-going quality. Lira, however, cannot tolerate that Milk is more devoted to his activism than to their relationship and eventually hangs himself.

After three unsuccessful campaigns to win a position in city government, Milk is elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1977 as a representative for District 5. His victory makes him the first openly gay man to be voted into major public office in America. Supported by his new lover Jack Lira, even though the young man finds it difficult to infiltrate the inner circle of political associates and allies, Milk works at passing a city ordinance protecting people from being fired because of their sexual orientation and defeating a proposed state referendum that would allow gay teachers to lose their jobs (Archive footage of anti-gay activist Anita Bryant is shown in news clips supporting such causes). His political agenda increasingly upsets fellow supervisor White, who finally resigns his seat on the Board. When his supporters urge him to reverse his decision, White seeks re-appointment from Mayor George Moscone, who denies his request at the urging of Milk. Distraught, White returns to San Francisco City Hall to plead his case and try to get his job back one last time. When he is yet again rebuffed, he asks Moscone to privately see him in his office, at which point he shoots and kills him before walking into Milk's office and killing him as well (see Moscone–Milk assassinations).

The movie ends with footnotes. Dan White got a five year sentence but killed himself not long after it was served and that Anne Kronenberg, another Milk understudy, is now a mother of three.

Few films this year feel as timely as Milk. With the aftershocks of Proposition 8 reverberating across California and both sides gearing up for a long and bitter struggle, its heartfelt portrayal of gay rights' most visible martyr could have been pulled from tomorrow's headlines. In many respects, it's an extremely routine biopic -- a surprise coming from a director as nontraditional as Gus Van Sant -- but its insight forms eerie parallels with the ongoing movement for which San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk gave his life.

It also sports one of the strongest ensemble performances in a long time. Emile Hirsch, Diego Luna, James Franco, Victor Garber, and Alison Pill all give superb portrayals of the figures surrounding Milk, who rose to prominence in the late 1970s as the nation's first openly gay elected official. As good as they are, however, they all take a back seat to the two most gripping turns: Sean Penn in the title role and Josh Brolin as his eventual assassin, Dan White. For Penn, it marks a professional high point in a career littered with them. He portrays Milk with an intriguing blend of the normal and the extraordinary. Stereotypical homosexual behavior is readily apparent -- the character here is effeminate, flamboyant, and cheerful to the point of camp -- but it hides an instinctively political mind, as he uses other people's presumptions about him to first disarm and then overcome them. Milk combines those qualities with his deep-set desire to live a normal life: spending time with various lovers (including Franco's Scott Smith and Luna's Jack Lira), running a camera shop in the Castro district, and helping those around him feel like they belong.

Thirty years ago, of course, that really wasn't possible. Though the Stonewall riots in 1969 had marked a turning point in gay rights, a backlash was in full effect, and Milk and his compatriots were feeling the heat. His knack for speaking leads him to run for office, and through a number of bitter campaigns, he learns how the game is played. He makes deals with unions who use the queer community to successfully negotiate a strike against Coors (boycotting beer in the city's gay bars makes for a tight pinch). From there, he eventually lands a seat on the City Council, where he works towards broader laws such as a ban on dog poop as a means of generating influence. His knack for the job marks him as a rising star... much to the consternation of White, a fellow Supervisor who doesn't quite know what to make of him. White lacks Milk's effectiveness, he struggles to find causes that define him, and he may be in the closet himself. Brolin infuses the man with a combination of pathos, frustration, and repression that allows us to feel for him without condoning his eventual act of destruction.

Van Sant posits their just-below-the-surface conflict in fairly traditional ways, blending archival footage and reenactments to sketch out how and why Milk came to this position. The framing device is a confessional audio tape he makes in case he is assassinated, which structures the story both in personal terms and in terms of the profound risks he was taking. I eventually catalyzes in the battle to stop Proposition 6: a monstrous piece of legislation allowing employers to fire gay workers solely because of their sexual orientation. Its chief proponent -- Florida orange juice maven (and born-again Christian) Anita Bryant -- makes a fine off-screen boogeyman. (She's represented only in actual archival footage which the characters see on television.) Their fight to stop her encompasses Milk's political ascent, while White continues to founder in his wake. The ramifications ultimately had fatal consequences for both men.

They also draw a chilling similarity to the current environment in California. Like Prop 8's supporters, Bryant and her allies hid their bigotry behind the supposed protection of children. Like them, they laid claim to "God's word" in lieu of defensible arguments. Van Sant couldn't have possibly known how well his effort would dovetail into that fight, but he understands how deep the issue goes... and how basic it is. Despite the ways his opponents demonized him, Milk fought for very simple things: respect, decency, and the right to live his life in peace. Thirty years later, the advances he helped pioneer led to a sense of complacency among the gay community, which Prop 8 has shaken to the core. Though conventional in many ways, Milk could not possibly represent a more potent battle cry. Indeed, it is impossible to separate the film from the issue; they are utterly indistinguishable. Galvanized by Penn's performance, that makes for as fitting a validation as any biopic could hope for.

Harvey Milk was a businessman, first of all. He knew that unless he was taken seriously by the San Francisco business establishment, he would never be able to promote his agenda. So he became a businessman of sorts, and then, during his brief stint as a public official, he became the godfather of all gay rights activism that followed.

In Milk, director Gus Van Sant chronicles the life of the New York native who relocated to San Francisco during the early 1970s and set off his still-reverberating crusade for equal rights for gay people. Van Sant smoothly mixes archival material with his own footage to capture the electricity of the time, its turmoil and the cascading sense of outrage.

As Harvey Milk, Sean Penn turns in a courageous performance — not because he plays a gay man or because he kisses men on screen, but because he abandons standard actorly artifice to embrace his character with a real, grounded humanity, conveying both the physical and the spiritual sides of Milk.

The film builds interest as Milk repeatedly runs — and fails — for a spot on the board of city supervisors (similar to a city council). After redistricting, he wins handily from his Castro district aco­lytes.

But Harvey Milk, and the movie, constantly confronts 1970s prejudice in the unlikely forms of Anita Bryant, who makes several appearances in period news clips, fellow supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin) and John Briggs (Denis O’Hare), who campaigns for a statewide referendum denying civil rights to gays.

Milk depicts all these events, along with White and Milk’s infamous final meeting. Yet Milk also conveys a sense of Harvey Milk the person without going into needless, minute detail. In establishing what made Harvey Milk the fighter, he states that he had four partners in his life and three had committed suicide because they were torn apart by having to stay in the closet.

It’s too easy or simple to say we’ve come a long way since the 1970s, but at least Milk helps show how the journey began.

Summary:
Typically great performances by Sean Penn as Harvey Milk and Josh Brolin as his political nemesis Dan White makes Gus Van Sant's return to mainstream filmmaking one of the more fascinating political biopics in recent memory.

Story:
At the age of 40, Harvey Milk (Sean Penn) moved to San Francisco and set up a camera shop in the city's Castro District, where he quickly gathered a crowd of supporters among the gay community. Soon, Harvey's local activism leads to him entering the political race, as he tries to run as the city's first openly-gay politician, facing many who are opposed to his lifestyle. As Harvey gets further into politics, rifts form between him and his two lovers Scott Smith (James Franco) and Jack (Diego Luna), but he had bigger problems dealing with fellow supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin) who has problems with Harvey's lifestyle.

Analysis:
This being the season to roll out all the awards-worthy biopics, there certainly have been less intriguing and satisfying efforts than this look at the later years of Harvey Milk and his rise through the San Francisco political system as one of the country's first openly gay politicians. It marks the return of Gus Van Sant to relatively high-profile studio fare from years of making obscure experimental films, and he should be welcomed back to mainstream Hollywood with open arms after this impressive effort.

Milk isn't necessarily a biopic, being that there's a 40-year gap in Milk's life that's barely even referenced, instead being about his far too short political career in San Francisco. It starts just before his 40th birthday when he meets his long-time lover Scott Smith (James Franco) in a New York subway, and after a birthday tryst, they lay in bed talking about their plans to move to San Francisco. There, Harvey immediately becomes a beloved local figure after opening a camera shop in the mostly gay Castro district and becoming a local Godfather able to sway the homosexual community to help local Teamsters while fighting for gay equality. Eventually, he realizes that running for public office is the only way to make real changes, and along with his team of supportive friends, he begins a number of campaigns for district supervisor.

It's been many years since we've seen Gus Van Sant making a film that uses a more traditional structure and storytelling narrative, and for a lot of that, we can credit the strength of the script by Dustin Lance Black ("Big Love") which covers a lot of aspects of Milk's life once he started getting into politics. Even those who don't know much about San Francisco and California politics of the time are brought up to speed fairly quickly without it ever feeling as cold or clinical or formulaic as other political biopics tend to be. One way Van Sant accomplishes this is by blending actual television footage from the time, mostly of Anita Bryant's television appearances attacking gay rights, to set up the environment in which Harvey was running. It's something that works similarly to the way real footage of Joe McCarthy was used in George Clooney's "Good Night, And Good Luck."

It's clearly evident how well-loved Milk was, both among the straight and gay populace of San Francisco, due to all the things he accomplished during his short time in office, and it's almost impossible to ignore the relevance Harvey's fight against California Proposition 6, an attempt to fire all gay teachers from the school systems, has to the state's recent struggle with Prop. 8. One can easily understand why some might be disappointed this film wasn't released earlier to help rally those who might not understand the implications that law passing might have on so many.

Even with the political undercurrents and their relevance to today, all of that tends to take a backseat to Sean Penn's portrayal of Harvey Milk, a performance that's nothing short of a revelation. After seeing him playing tough guys and anti-heroes, it's nice to see the far-too-serious actor smiling and playing a lighter role, that of a man who clearly loved life. It's a decision that behooves Penn as an actor, as he gives one of his strongest performances, not only emulating Harvey's mannerisms and delivering some of his better known rally speeches, but also in quieter moments, narrating the film as he lays his last will to tape. It feels like a far more transformative role for Penn that hopefully will impact future decisions.

The most interesting aspect of Harvey's story is his tenuous relationship with Dan White, an ex-fireman who becomes a supervisor at the same time as Harvey. As has hard as they try to get along and work together, White clearly has issues with Harvey's sexuality, even though at times, it seems to be implied that White may be somewhat in the closet himself. Regardless, it's another underplayed performance by Josh Brolin that's extremely effective.

Their two performances might leave the most impact, but this is clearly an ensemble piece with Van Sant assembling an impressive cast to represent Harvey's supporters and confidants. James Franco gives a particularly daring performance as his supportive lover Scott Smith, a role that requires a lot of intimate scenes with Penn. Emile Hirsch is decent as Cleve Jones, who contributed to the research for the film, while Allison Pill is good as Anne Kronenberg, Harvey's lesbian campaign manager, though they're more background characters than the others. In fact, the only real weak link in the movie might be Diego Luna, who plays Scott's replacement Jack in such an annoying manner that you'll almost be relieved when he suddenly leaves the picture.

If you're bothered by the thought of watching realistic homoerotic sexuality, you might not be the right audience for this movie, since Van Sant has never been one to filter or water down the sexual content in his films and we get more than a few scenes of Harvey and his lovers "at play." These scenes are also where we see the experimental aspect of Van Sant's recent filmmaking decisions come to the fore, having brought along cinematographer Harris Savides, whom he first teamed with during his experimental phase. Savides quite masterfully is able to switch gears between the film's different moods and keep the movie looking consistent, and some might be even more pleasantly surprised to see Danny Elfman's name on the score, since most of the music is very different from what we've previously heard from the prolific film composer.

We're not going to assume that every person reading this review will be aware of Harvey's fate or its aftermath, but even knowing the basic facts can't prepare you for the shocking climax, but the impact of Harvey's passings gives you a good sense how important he was to activists for gay rights and how having someone like him in office these days might be sorely missed.

The Bottom Line:
Gus Van Sant has done an exceptional job with his return to more straight-forward filmmaking with an important film about a politician who only entered the public consciousness after he died, leaving far too many straight people unaware about how important he was to the cause of the gay and lesbian community. This film does a good job rectifying that, and it couldn't come at a more opportune time.