Entertainment
Van Sant’s Milk Goes Down Like Skim
Greg Kaczynski |
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 During a time such as our recent political season, a time of challenging the status quo regarding the civil rights of the gay and lesbian population, there could hardly be a better film than one that reflects on how far we’ve come in that area. Milk, which tells the story of Harvey Milk, the first outwardly gay, publicly elected official in the history of the United States, could have been that movie. While the amazing and heartbreaking facts are there, the storytelling is, sadly, somewhat lacking, and the fact that Milk misses the mark by such little degrees is frustrating.
Sean Penn masterfully portrays Milk, offering a sensitive, passionate portrait of a man who rocked history. From the get-go, viewers love Harvey. Penn avoids the trap of “playing gay” and simply is Milk, a man who believes in what is right and will do whatever he can to improve society and the lives of “his people.” Penn impresses as he paints beautiful alternating strokes of vulnerability and explosive charisma: realizing and living with the sizable odds against him or leading the disenfranchised of San Francisco down the streets of The Castro in protest and unification.
In fact, the acting, overall, is strong. Emile Hirsch (who plays Cleve Jones, a young nomadic enlistee in the Milk army) borders on overplaying the “queen” aspect of Jones, but stays within believable bounds. James Franco (playing Milk’s lover, Scott Smith) grins his way through with his now familiar charming, hot guy persona, but viewers still buy it--he seems like the kind of guy Milk would be smitten with. Diego Luna is adorable and appropriately grating as Jack, Milk’s needy second San Francisco lover.
 Rounding out the stellar cast is Josh Brolin, once again playing a generally misunderstood politician (he recently portrayed George W. Bush in Oliver Stone’s W.). This time around, he plays Dan White, a fellow government official to Harvey who in the end is responsible for Harvey’s untimely death. Brolin carries considerable weight as Dan, a desperate man who hopes to scrounge together enough money to keep his family fed as he tries to get any number of initiatives passed through a board of supervisors who doesn’t seem to like him very much. In fact, I would argue that while it’s appreciated that director Gus Van Sant and Brolin both made efforts to not make White a cut-and-dry villain in this story, it’s possible that they might have created too much pathos for poor beleaguered White in that, by the end, I actually felt bad for the guy. Really bad. Perhaps it’s because White keeps trying to do the right thing and he keeps getting batted down, maybe it’s because Brolin’s just that good, I don’t know, but there’s a definite disconnect between White’s role in the story and the emotional impact expected when Milk is murdered.
Which brings me to one of the minor problems that mar this otherwise fantastic film. Milk is the kind of movie that I want to either get up and cheer or sob my eyes out at the end. It’s the story of Harvey Milk’s rise above incredible odds, the success of his unending campaign for equal rights of the gay community. This is his battle--his purpose--and he succeeds, and when things are at their greatest, he is murdered. When the end of the movie comes, even the massive candle light vigil cannot save it. Milk feels at odds with its material, bordering on emotionally bankrupt. Van Sant’s vision is unfocused, and the film suffers because of it.
Clearly, Van Sant wants the film to be more than just the facts (the 1984 documentary, The Times of Harvey Milk, is more than adequate for that); he wants the interpersonal drama to shine through--Harvey’s trials and personal sacrifices, his lovers and friends. But audiences never feel dramatically grounded in any of the characters. Lovers come and go almost accidentally and friends and supporters blur together against the background of his campaigns.
 The film opens with such lightweight writing: Harvey literally bumps into Smith, a chance encounter in a subway where Harvey essentially picks up a stranger who becomes his lover that he runs away with. That’s romantic enough, but it’s not dramatically potent, and it doesn’t allow the audience to become invested. The same is true with his second lover, Jack, who drunkenly stumbles by Milk’s political headquarters one night, is taken in by Harvey and, overnight, they become inseparable.
Another flaw in Van Sant’s vision is that he isn’t happy just with his amazing cast and setting (they shot on location in The Castro), but throughout the film, he interjects pieces of archival footage: Anita Bryant decrying gays, historical footage of The Castro…. While fascinating, these clips break up the rhythm of the story, and I dare say they’re more compelling than the dramatic world that Van Sant has constructed for us to tell Milk’s story. I found myself wishing the film was the aforementioned ’84 documentary.
Milk is a good film filled with excellent performances and a heartwrenching story, and Penn’s performance, especially, is captivating. It is the story we need right now to remember how far we have come in the civil rights of gay people in our country, and it’s also a painful reminder of how far we still have to go. All of that being said, it’s a shame that Van Sant can’t just pony up and make a normal, straightforward drama; his reliance on artsy gimmicks weaken the film. With the talent and resources available to him, it was a mistake to turn to archival footage, as it breaks the emotional reality he had begun to create. Overall, Milk just leaves audiences wanting more in the end.
Milk is now playing in select theaters.
For more information, visit filminfocus.com/focusfeatures/film/milk.
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