Review of "Milk"

by

Christie Keith

November

Photo credit: Phill Bray / Focus Features

It's hard to take an objective look at a film whose story is not just familiar but iconic to its audience. It's even harder when that story has already been told in a groundbreaking documentary, and harder still if some of the film's audience actually lived through its events.

That Gus Van Sant's Milk transcends all those factors and looks to be one of the best films of the year is a testament to the power of its story as well as the creative forces that came together to tell it.

Most LGBT people probably know the bare bones of Harvey Milk's story already: That he helped spearhead the fight against a tidal wave of anti-gay legislation that swept the country as part of Anita Bryant's anti-gay crusade; that he advocated coming out as the most powerful weapon against homophobia; that he was shot to death by a political opponent after predicting his own assassination.

But one of often-forgotten pieces of Harvey's story was his commitment to building bridges with every possible group that might be an ally in his struggle. He made a friend out of organized labor by getting Coors beer out of San Francisco's gay bars. He reached out to all communities of color and ethnic groups in the state. He was an ex-hippie turned businessman who could and would talk to anyone – including his fiercest enemies – if he thought it would further his cause.

And at a time when the gay and lesbian communities were almost completely isolated from each other, when women held virtually no leadership roles in the gay rights movement and our communities were often actively hostile towards each other, Harvey Milk not only reached out to women's organizations, he brought in a 22-year-old lesbian named Anne Kronenberg to run his fourth campaign for office – the first one, in fact, that he ever won.

Played by fresh-faced Canadian actress Alison Pill (The Book of Daniel), we first meet Anne when she marches into Harvey's camera store on Castro St. to be introduced to his campaign staff. They're speechless at first, while Harvey can barely hide his amusement.

"Who the heck is she?" one of the men blurts out.

Harvey tells them she's his new campaign manager, and they react badly. One of them even suggests she's a spy for Milk's gay opponent, Rick Stokes.

"My girlfriends say you guys don't like women," Anne says. "Just asking, is there a place for us in all of this, or are you scared of girls?"

Alison Pill as Anne Kronenberg

Photo credit: Phil Bray/Focus Features

That single scene is just one example of how much screenwriter Dustin Lance Black (Big Love) can say with very few words. Rather than being constrained by the real life events and people in his story, he's inspired by them. Every introduction of historical footage, every near-verbatim quote or speech, is rooted in one of the film's many personal moments, and amplified by those that follow.

Archival footage of Anita Bryant is particularly devastating in its effect.

That footage is used in telling the story of the fight against Prop 6, a 1978 California ballot initiative that would have fired every gay or lesbian teacher in the state, as well as anyone who advocated on their behalf. That battle's resonance with today's struggle for LGBT equality is particularly eerie given it was written and filmed before California's Prop 8 had even been proposed.

Black spoke with AfterEllen.com the day after the film's world premiere in San Francisco last month, and said that the parallels between the two propositions weren't really that big of a coincidence. Even if Prop 8 hadn't come along when it did, he said, there will always be another one in its place.

"And each time there is one of these propositions," he told me, "it kind of gives us an opportunity to get out there and say, 'Hey, this is who we are,' and break down some of those myths that Harvey talked about so much."

Sean Penn as Harvey Milk

Photo courtesy: Focus Features

There's a great deal of Oscar buzz about Milk, and it will certainly be nominated for its acting if nothing else. But if they gave an Academy Award for "Film Most Likely to Change the Country," it would have no competition, and not because of any influence it's likely to have on audiences not already in support of LGBT rights.

It's on our own community, where many young queer people are barely aware of Harvey's legacy, that the film may have the greatest impact. That's partly because it teaches them about a period in our history they didn't really know about before, but it's more because it makes them care personally about Harvey and his friends, lovers, and enemies.

That emotional payload is what gives the film most of its heart, and what animates that heart are the passionate and brilliant performances of the entire cast.

The phrase "Oscar-worthy" is rapidly becoming a cliché about Sean Penn's portrayal of Harvey Milk, and it's richly deserved. And actually, Penn doesn't portray Harvey. He quite simply becomes Harvey Milk, with every gesture of his hand, every turn of phrase, every radiant smile.

James Franco also gives a stellar performance as Harvey's lover, Scott Smith. The two men moved to San Francisco together, and while their romantic relationship didn't survive Harvey's political ambitions, their love for each other did. From a long distance shot of an achingly tender Castro St. kiss to their sleepy late night phone conversation the night before Harvey was killed, the two actors convey a compelling sense of intimacy in every scene they share.

James Franco (left) as Scott Smith
Photo credit: Phil Bray/Focus Features

Performances in the smaller roles stand out as well. Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild) as Milk political protégé Cleve Jones is nothing short of dazzling. Pill infuses Anne Kronenberg's character with emotional impact far out of proportion to her time on screen. Diego Luna (Y tu mama tambien, Havana Nights) delivers an unsettling turn as another of Harvey's lovers, Jack Lira. And no one but Penn may have captured the essence of the real person he's playing more than Josh Brolin (W) as Milk's killer, fellow San Francisco city supervisor Dan White.

Josh Brolin as Dan White

Photo credit: Phil Bray/Focus Features

In the end, Milk has a bit of everything and something for everyone: a love story, a history lesson, a tribute to a fallen leader, and a rallying cry for change and justice. It has actors and directors at the heights of their crafts, and a script that finds its way through its epic story with deceptive ease.

And above all, it has what Harvey Milk believed was the most important thing of all: hope