Art in All Its Forms: Milk

I've contemplated whether I should write about this movie, it being so divisive and controversial. Not to mention the fact that it hits me rather close to home. I find I am afraid what some might think of my opinions. That somehow I might burn bridges and jeopardize relationships.

I've been down that road before, however. And it was a dark and lonely road where I distanced myself from family and friends. The only thing to fear - I recall a great president said - is fear itself. I therefore choose not to be afraid. Instead, I will meet the challenge of this review and write - as always - from the heart.

It was Saturday. Outside, the snowy rain fell in thick globules upon the green grass and molehills. The dogs, Joseph, and I had tucked ourselves into the warm house. He and the dogs hunkered down on the couch to watch Milk, and I - who cringe at sad movies - escaped to the office to play World of Warcraft. I sat staring at my Night Elf Priest, Aquinias, and asked myself what I was doing. With that question, I rose from the black pleather chair, closed the door to the office, and told Joseph to start from the beginning as I was joining him in the living room to watch the film.

I'm glad I did.

The movie begins with footage of men being harassed and even arrested. For having a drink in a gay bar. An all too common occurrence in major American urban centers in the 1950s and 1960s.

We then meet Harvey Milk in New York in 1970. A closeted, somewhat effeminate man about to turn 40, he admits that he has done nothing up to that point in his life of which he could consider himself proud. With his new-found partner, he traverses the states and finds himself in San Francisco.

He opens a camera shop in the Castro neighborhood, intending to become a businessman like his father. But he quickly finds that his kind are not wanted in them there parts. Sound familiar?

He begins to understand that he's not particularly wanted in that blue collar Irish-American neighborhood. But Milk is no pushover. A New York Jew, he decides that he's going to round up his gay friends and boycott any business that doesn't cater to his kind. The result? Those businesses that didn't cater to his kind didn't survive.

One day Allan Baird - a Teamsters rep - walks into the camera shop and explains to Harvey that William Coors - of Coors beer fame - was treating the union unfairly. Milk immediately sends his 'community' out to spread the word that gays won't drink Coors. The boycott works. Coors settles soon after.

Gays had shown that they had power as a group, at least in a capitalistic society.

But that's not really the point, is it? Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto God what is God's. Gays had used their economic clout to affect an outcome tied to money, but they would never be accepted as moral leaders. These sick, psychologically twisted people who chose to be this way.

Fast forward to Dade County, Florida. The year, 1977 (a year with which I am rather well acquainted). Anita Bryant, representing Save Our Children, dances a jig when voters decide that homosexuals have no civil rights when it comes to their sexual orientation. Translated: homosexuals can be fired, harassed, and otherwise abused for being who they are.

More repeals come in Kansas, Minnesota, and Oregon. Severe setbacks. For all the economic clout gays have, they do not have any political power. Or so they thought.

Enter Harvey Milk in San Francisco. An outspoken gay man elected as city supervisor.

The conservative right wing decides that the California gays must pay the piper. They decide to teach them a lesson. The proposition: disallow homosexuals from teaching in California public schools. Why? Bryant explains what so many felt at the time, i.e. 'Children are very easily persuaded ... a homosexual is not born, they are made. So there has to be some recruitment.'

These people honestly spew their ridiculous beliefs that gays - all perverts and pedophiles - are out to recruit boys and girls. To turn them against their parents. To make them immoral beings hated by God.

I pose a question to all of you who still have doubts about whether gays are born or 'made'. Why in God's name would I choose to be gay? The norm is to have a wife and children. To buy a house and work in a job that pays the bills. To be close to my family. To live a normal life. Why, then, would I choose not to have this life? To spite someone? I don't feel spite towards anyone. I like being accepted. I love my family. It just doesn't make sense. Not at all.

And that's the same argument Harvey used. We are gay because we were born that way. Because God made us that way.

They won in 1978. The Briggs Initiative fell entirely flat.

Then Harvey fell flat too. From five gunshot wounds.

Watching the movie, I felt saddened, of course. A few tears fell. But I also realized that Harvey would become - and has become - all the more powerful as a martyr.

It was this movie that helped me to realize that gay rights is a civil rights issue. That homosexuals should have the opportunity to earn the same rights as their straight counterparts, whether in raising children or attaining public office.

It seems I haven't even touched on the acting within the movie. Sean Penn does lose himself in the role, a rather amazing feat. I enjoyed Emile Hirsch's portrayal of Cleve Jones. As well as Josh Brolin's remarkable Dan White. The acting was incredible, to say the least.

The environment? I felt like I was alive in the 1970s in San Francisco. The clothing. The hair styles. The boat cars and bugs of piss yellow and puke green. The facades of the buildings. The characters' speech. The music. Believe you me, I have no desire to go back to the 1970s; it wouldn't have suited me well. But I now understand a tad bit better what it was to be in the 1970s as a young person coming of age.

Watch the movie. Please. Even if you disagree with what the movie suggests, it is nonetheless a cinematic triumph. In the end, it forces the issue. And that's what good art is supposed to do...