Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Milk

A long time ago, the screenwriter got as much play in advertising as the above the line talent. Take a look at the trailers for Network and you'll notice that it's credited as a Paddy Chayefsky film, not a Sydney Lumet film. That's not something you see these days, so when the advertisements for Milk made writer Dustin Lance Black's name so prominent, it made me expect something exceptionally well written. This isn't a guy with a lot of previous writing experience (his only big credit is the TV show Big Love), so clearly something must have been special about his writing here if producers felt using his name in the trailers would be worthwhile. So color me surprised to discover that Milk's single greatest failing is that it follows a very by-the-numbers screenplay that has almost no interest in any of its supporting characters. No amount of great acting can overcome what amounts to a been there, done that writing approach. What a shame.

For those who aren't familiar with him, Harvey Milk was an openly gay politician in San Francisco who fought to protect the rights of homosexuals in the late 70's, before he was gunned down by a fellow city supervisor. This is certainly an interesting story to be told, especially in light of the recent passing of Prop 8 in California. Yet the script does not do the man's plight justice. From the very get-go, I could tell the writer was not confident with his story. The whole movie is framed as Harvey recording his story on tape because he fears he might be assassinated. This tells us two things quickly: 1) Black is worried we won't connect with the film unless he states right off the bat that something tragic will happen, and 2) Black isn't sure of how to string together the events of Milk's life without some sort of narration. This framing device is made all the more irrelevant in retrospect because we never see any point where Harvey might feel like his death is imminent, nor do we see any reason for him to reiterate to anyone his life's story.

The acting is strong across the board (with one major exception), but if a character's name isn't Harvey Milk, apparently they don't warrant anything more than a surface examination. Each character seems to have one facet to them that separates them from other characters: Emile Hirsch plays the rebellious kid, James Franco is the supportive guy, and Josh Brolin is the opposition. Hirsch does surprisingly well considering how stock his character feels most of the time. Franco really has nothing to do here, but he does create a warm presence and plays well off of Penn. And Brolin deserved so much more examination than he got. His Dan White murdered two people, yet we really don't understand why. Perhaps the film subscribes to the Twinkies Defense? Brolin does a great job of making White seem uncertain of himself, like an animal cornered in his own den by trespassers. Yet it's not enough to make us see why he would do what he did. The one actor who feels totally out of place is Diego Luna. His character is tacked on, almost as if his existence in real life demanded he be shoehorned into the film. While the character isn't necessarily supposed to be liked, Luna does a horrible job of making us care about him in any way, grating on the nerves whenever he appears. When he does something very important late in the film, it feels completely pointless to the overall film, almost as if the film had to stop and deal with this other character for a few minutes. Luna's character is actually less likable than a man who murders two people - Black could not have intended that when he wrote the film.

Finally, there's Sean Penn. Clearly the best performance of the film, and probably award worthy. Penn really goes for it here, embracing Harvey in a way I feel a lot of other actors might have shied away from. Particularly interesting is the way he shapes Milk into both an immensely likable guy, but also one with an undeniable conniving undercurrent to him. The way he manipulates some people around him makes Milk a far more interesting character than he would have been if he was just a tragic hero. Penn is front and center for most of the run time, and he carries the film well.

Director Gus Van Sant is known for his more artsy films, often taking less of a narrative approach than an atmospheric one. Here he is back in mainstream territory, but with the occasional artistic flourishes. The way he would frame certain shots so that some characters were out of frame, or other shots where the camera is zoomed out to an almost unnatural level help to create a feeling of alienation that Milk and others certainly must have felt at times. But those flourishes aren't enough to mask the fact that the film hits all the beats you might expect from a biopic. While I've had some serious problems with Van Sant's atmospheric pictures, I would have preferred him to take some sort of risks with the narrative here so that I didn't feel like I've seen it all before.

Good performances and a timely story are not enough to overcome the poor writing here, and I can't really recommend Milk because of that. An interesting side note, we almost got a repeat of the Capote/Infamous showdown from a couple of years back. Bryan Singer was planning to have his next film be about Harvey Milk as well, but felt that it was futile since he was beaten to the punch. That's a shame, as I feel like there's so much more that could have been explored about this story. A film about the relationship between Milk and White could have made for a far more unique take on this story.