From the Ledge

There are a lot of films I admire intellectually, because they’re well-written, tightly-directed, exceptionally-acted, vividly photographed and designed, impressively scored. Then there are those films that I’ve connected with emotionally, but which “serious” filmgoers would thumb their well-educated noses at (yes, I am an unabashed The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert as well as sing-along Sound of Music fan, so sue me!). I experience a double-whammy with some films- being profoundly touched both in my head and in my heart. Then there’s that rare, transcendent film, which resonates and moves me at so many levels- intellectually, emotionally, contextually, experientially, that it’s almost impossible to describe my reactions to it. Gus Van Sant’s stunning film, Milk, definitely one of the best films of this movie-going year, is one of those kinds of cinematic experiences. It is solidly-directed, clearly and passionately written, wonderfully performed, with a legendary, immersive performance by Sean Penn at its core. But more importantly, it is a film that reminds us of the long, gruelling, sometimes violent history of gay rights in this country, but also provides relevant reverberations for our contemporary times, a time when many people who voted for a President promising change also voted for a very obviously and inherently discriminatory Proposition 8. Unlike Brokeback Mountain, the last strongly resonant filmic experience I had, which, in my opinion, actually had very clearly articulated universal themes, Milk is clearly, aptly, determinedly, and unapologetically about the gay experience, and it’s a film that won’t, that can’t, be shrugged away.

With what I call the “mainstreaming” of many things gay in American pop culture (“oh, it’s so hip to be gay!”), a lot of my peers, both gay and straight, and especially the younger ones, seem to have forgotten or glossed over the fact that gay people have struggled and ferociously fought to be accepted, to be respected, to have the same opportunities as straight people, even as recently as twenty to thirty years ago. I’m especially disappointed that some younger gay people seem to just take everything we have for granted. One of the reasons why I have chosen not to attend Chicago’s Gay Pride parade festivities over the past couple of years or so, is that it’s whole drunken party atmosphere, for me, has clouded the fact that Gay Pride was originally a defiant commemoration of the beatings and arrests at Stonewall, the one watershed event in recent gay rights history. Van Sant powerfully begins Milk with newsreel footage of Stonewall and various other raids in gay bars in the late 1960s where frightened, beaten down, humiliated gay men shielding their faces from the news camera are led away by law enforcement. It’s terrific context setting, and for this particular gay man at least, brings home, pointedly, like a sock in the gut, the important fact that my current lifestyle freedoms and social standing, are built upon the loss of dignity of hundreds of men like those in the news footage. And that it was because of the anger, the resoluteness, the commitment of people like Harvey Milk, who fought long and hard against institutional injustice against gays, that I’ve never been treated like one of those men.

One of the things I really admire about the film is it’s very seamless blend of archival real-life footage and filmed scenes throughout. I really think this approach not only successfully and creatively evokes the time period of the late 1970s in Milk’s life which is the focus of the film, but also articulately continues to stress the point of how important our recent history is. I was particularly moved by the real footage from the candlelight march from the Castro to San Francisco City Hall after Harvey’s assassination which Van Sant uses near the conclusion of the film. Some critics have noted that the film feels more like a docudrama than a conventional Hollywood biopic, which is fine. I don’t really need to see another Ray or Walk the Line. Milk’s life and his accomplishments are so important that over-dramatic theatricality will minimize the intent and impact of the film. Dustin Lance Black’s screeenplay has been criticized in some quarters as being flimsy in terms of comprehensively and vividly painting Milk’s non-political life (and it‘s tone-deafness at the promiscuous, sexually dangerous San Francisco gay culture of the time period). OK, so I probably would have also wanted to see a little bit more of Milk‘s personal turmoils (which gay drama queen wouldn’t?), but I am fine with the tight focus of the script (and I‘m grateful for the absence of any June Cash-like autoharp-playing characters!).

If there is a performance, male or female, better than Sean Penn’s in this film, this year, then I haven’t seen it. Penn brilliantly paints Milk’s passion and defiance, his determination and nobility, but also his very human ability to scheme, horse-trade, manipulate and cajole. Penn’s Milk is genial, seductive, stubborn, brazen, warm-hearted, loyal- a phenomenal, jaw-dropping multi-dimensional performance. And it seems like because of Penn (who is almost certain to get a second Oscar for this, mark my crystal-balling words!), everyone in the film’s large ensemble upped their game. James Franco is mesmerizing as Penn’s great love Scott Smith, always supportive and protective, loyal to the end. He doesn’t have big dramatic scenes but, because of his tiny, calibrated gestures and his expressive facial expressions, you can’t take your eyes off him in every scene he’s in (of course it helps that he does some gratuitous nude swimming! ay caramba!), and his rapport with Penn is astounding. Josh Brolin gives Dan White, Milk’s assassin, a lot of nuance and provocative gray areas. Milk thought White was closeted, and Brolin plays with this intriguing ambiguity and searing inner life conflict brilliantly. His drunken scene at Milk’s birthday party is one for the actor’s studio textbooks. Emile Hirsch, as hustler-turned-activist Cleve Jones, one of Milk’s closest confidantes, looks and acts so differently from his Into the Wild role that you’re stopped, mouth agape, in your tracks. It’s a showy role, and Hirsch goes to town with it. Broadway actress Allison Pill as the tough lesbian campaign manager Anne Kronenberg is marvelously ball-busting and sardonic. There is absolutely no bad performance in this film (and was that gay porn director-icon-rabblerouser Chichi LaRue lustily cheering in one of Milk’s rallys?)

Milk demonstrates how important art is ultimately political art. With the passing of Proposition 8 in California and the passing of many similar types of legislation in states like Arkansas and Arizona, the message, the intent, the whole life of Harvey Milk provides us, gay and straight alike, with a clear guidepost, that injustice shouldn’t be institutionalized in any society, but especially in this society that professes love and commitment to freedom and equality as its cornerstones. This is an important film, but also a heart-rending one, go see it.

Milk is on limited release in Chicago at the Landmark Century and AMC River East theaters.

Tags: Gus van Sant, Milk, Sean Penn