The thing that strikes you about Harvey Milk is not what an extraordinary man he was, but what an ordinary man he was. While history has written him into its pages as ‘The first openly gay man to be elected into Public Office in the United States’ and as a ‘Martyr for gay rights’, he is portrayed rather more realistically in the biopic Milk. As painted by director, Gus Van Sant and embodied by Sean Penn, Harvey Milk was merely a man, forced into fighting for his right to be seen as merely a man.
The thing that strikes you about Harvey Milk is not what an extraordinary man he was, but what an ordinary man he was. While history has written him into its pages as ‘The first openly gay man to be elected into Public Office in the United States’ and as a ‘Martyr for gay rights’, he is portrayed rather more realistically in the biopic Milk. As painted by director, Gus Van Sant and embodied by Sean Penn, Harvey Milk was merely a man, forced into fighting for his right to be seen as merely a man.
Consider that one of the first times we encounter Harvey in the film is when he’s picking up a man two decades his junior in a subway so he’ll have someone to share his 40th birthday with – hardly the picture of a swashbuckling hero. Harvey Milk – like Rosa Parks before him – was extraordinary not because of who he was, but simply because of what he had the courage to do: come out – pun fully intended – and claim his place in the human race.
Milk is set in 1970s San Francisco – where Harvey and boyfriend Scott Smith move, hoping to find a home in the one place in America where everyone who didn’t belong came to belong. Yet, even in the once liberal neighbourhood of Castro in Eureka Valley, the staunch Christian business community and homophobic police have begun to strong-arm gay migrants back into the closet. When Harvey and Scott open Castro Camera, the Eureka Valley Merchants Association tries to stop them from getting their business licence. The first hint of what Harvey’s life is about to be consumed by is a telling scene that shows him and Scott sitting outside their store kissing in front of a sign that proclaims, ‘Yes, we’re open’. It doesn’t actually say: ‘What are you going to do about it?’ after, but it may as well.
Milk takes us through the saga of ‘The Mayor of Castro’ as Harvey affectionately becomes known. Recruiting a crew of gay men to his cause – many of them merely because he finds them attractive – he begins as a naive idealist who loses three elections in a bid for a position on the Board of Supervisors. However, he grows into a savvy politician, finally winning in his fourth attempt in 1977 on – of all things – a doggie-poo platform. Yes, you read that right. In a delightful exposé of the sometimes ridiculous world of politics, it is his promise to make people clean up after their dogs that tips things in his favour. He uses his post to garner greater support for gay rights, making a useful ally in Mayor George Moscone – the man instrumental in repealing California’s anti-sodomy laws. Milk begins to step more and more into mainstream politics, becoming most visible in the fight against ‘Proposition 6’. Put forth by conservative Orange County state legislator John Briggs, the dastardly proposition sought to ban gays, lesbians and anybody who dared to support gay rights from teaching in schools, on the ludicrous grounds that they were corrupting children and “recruiting” them as homosexuals.
Harvey Milk also forms a fateful relationship with fellow Supervisor, Dan White. Initially spouting the holier-than-thou ‘homosexuals are against God’s law’ tirade that was the fashion of the times, White grudgingly accepts Milk, thinking he might be able to use him to push forward his own agenda. On the surface the good old fashioned Christian family man, White may actually be gay himself – Harvey’s ‘gaydar’ certainly goes off, and he declares to his troupe ‘I think he’s one of us’. When Milk refuses to be used, White grows increasingly frustrated, especially more so as he sees Harvey’s gay rights movement gain greater voice in City Hall.
White, predictably, was not the only one who didn’t want to hear Harvey’s voice as loud as it was getting. Milk received death threat after death threat, yet, in the end it was, once again, something very mundane that did him in – jealousy. He, along with Mayor Moscone, was shot by White – an ordinary coward who couldn’t stand to see an ordinary man have the courage to be who he is.
Harvey Milk was a man with an enormous heart, and it has taken the hearts of two men to bring him to life in Milk.
Sean Penn’s name appears at the top of the credits but you will never see him on the screen. He is one of those rare actors (Johnny Depp is another) who does what every actor should, but so few can. He completely disappears into the role with which he has been charged. From the soul inside to the smile and gestures outside, Penn doesn’t play Milk, he is Milk.
Gus Van Sant has made it a point throughout his career to focus on those that society would prefer to hide away in closets, under stones, behind prejudices and in other assorted invisible niches. Probably because he himself, and his ideas, have often been too close to the edge for Hollywood’s comfort. While he has had some mainstream success with Good Will Hunting and Finding Forrester, his most acclaimed work has been on the indie and art-house circuit with the likes of Drugstore Cowboy, My Own Private Idaho and Palm D’Or winner, Elephant. Proudly gay himself, he has often handled homosexuality in his movies. Yet, he has never done so with a political agenda in mind, only on a purely human level. That explains his portrayal of Milk, not as a gay politician, but as a man. Gus Van Sant is himself really a part of Harvey Milk’s legacy. It was because of Milk that thousands of gay men and women across the country were encouraged to come out and be integrated into mainstream life.
Harvey’s fight isn’t over. But he rests in peace knowing there are others out there to continue it. The ones who will vote against California’s Proposition 8 that seeks to ban same-sex marriages. The ones who marched in India’s first out-in-the-open Gay Pride Parade in Delhi late last year. The ones who will vote for the abolition of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code. Men and women across the world fighting for their own right to be counted as ordinary people.