In his column “Second Take,” Sebastian Strawser reviews films in hindsight for the lessons they may provide us today.
Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.
This review contains spoilers.
Released in 2008, “Milk” came at a time when Massachusetts was the only state to have legalized same-sex marriage. The film was highly praised for its talented cast that painted, according to vital supporter and friend of the film’s namesake Anne Kronenberg, an “accurate, moving, [and] powerful” picture of the gay rights movement. Directed by Gus Van Sant, “Milk” is a movie that even today remains a vital reminder of the gay community’s persistent hope and humanity in spite of virulent hatred and persecution.
In “Milk,” based on the real story, Harvey Milk (Sean Penn) starts as a closeted gay man from New York in 1970. Celebrating his 40th birthday with lover Scott Smith (James Franco), he sets his sights on the Castro, a San Francisco neighborhood he referred to as “the new place for us refugees.” Hoping to lay roots and live a joyful life, Milk’s eyes open to the real stakes of gay rights after witnessing police officers beat gay people en masse for the “crime” of being their loud and proud selves at a gay-friendly bar. Milk steps into activism, rallying the Castro’s gay community not just against police brutality, but also in support of gay-friendly businesses.
Hoping to do more for his community, Milk then sets his sights on running for office. After three failed campaigns for state and local office, Milk wins a seat to represent the Castro in the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1978 — becoming the first openly gay man elected to public office in the nation’s history. As he spends more time in the political spotlight, he experiences great romantic turmoil while marshalling the community against broader anti-gay initiatives.
“If a bullet should ever enter my brain, let it destroy every closet door,” the real-life Milk said in a tape recording he wished to be played in the event of his murder. “I know you can’t live on hope alone. But without our hope, life is not worth living.” Milk, who was assassinated in 1978, brought much-needed hope and humanity to the fight that he paid for with his life, and the film’s great strength is portraying that.
I love “Milk” because its portrayal of its namesake beautifully illustrates that, fundamentally, the fight for gay rights is a fight for a brighter future. Speaking to fellow gay activists on combating Proposition 6, a 1978 state measure that would require school boards to fire gay teachers and their allies, he said: “We have to leave the ghetto… And if somebody doesn’t want to step out of the closet, we open the door for them.” Giving gay people the hope they needed to come out to their communities is what Milk’s hope brought out — a brightness in humanity that, at the ballot box, snubs the dark hatred they are confronted with.
Despite the film being a dramatized retelling of events from nearly 50 years ago, it is nonetheless a critical lesson on how we can navigate gay rights in the modern day. Milk stood up to the chief proponent of Proposition 6, who said that it “promises to protect our children from these gay perverts and pedophiles who recruit our children to participate in their deviant lifestyle.”
Today, we see groups like Moms for Liberty championing anti-LGBTQIA+ book bans under the very similar “protecting the children” rhetoric of the Proposition 6 campaign. A viewing of “Milk” shows us that all this anti-gay hatred is cut from the same dehumanizing cloth — making it a fight to remain as vigilant as Milk was as he took to City Hall and the streets.
With Milk describing the fight as “it doesn’t matter so much about winning. You make a statement,” the lesson is clear: Whether or not society likes it, gay people will forever belong in society as equals.
“Milk” details the efforts to rid California schools of the gay community. Today, the Trump administration is reversing LGBTQIA+ protections, and calls to ban gay marriage again are taking Republican states by storm. Today, as was the case during Milk’s life, homophobia seeks to deprive gay people of their humanity. But, Milk tells us how hope for the gay community pushes us to “break down the myths and destroy the lies and distortions” of who gay people are portrayed to be.
Milk’s efforts to give gay people a seat at the table and have them recognized as equals never lost its relevance — not after his death and not after the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in 2015. Gay peoples’ hope, even in the face of such virulent hatred, lights the torch for the rest of humanity to follow. Their humanity, which “Milk” brings to the big screen, reminds us that they are more than the lies that polite society demands we buy into.