Milk has strong characters and even stronger acting. I credit Gus Van Sant for not letting his oft times quirky directorial style get in the way of his actors or the compelling subject matter. Yet, this said, Van Sant and screenwriter Dustin Lance Black have committed one of the cardinal sins of movie-making — putting too much emphasis on message and not enough on story. As I have said in other reviews, however, should there be a hierarchy of sin, I think this one is lower on the list than the alternative of not caring enough. I’ll take heart over a marketing campaign any day of the week.
Still, for all its good qualities, I struggled with the fact that this film felt a lot like propaganda to me. It was too much bullhorn and not enough character development. What about the first 40 years of Harvey’s life. Or, if that is beyond the scope of this film, what about his relationship with Scott (James Franco‘s character)? What happened there?
I give novice screenwriter Black credit for pulling together Milk’s life into an engaging two hours, but I couldn’t shake his dire attempt to convince me of something through a loud speaker instead of a touch or a glance. I don’t think I needed much convincing on his message (i.e., all people, regardless of sexual orientation, deserve to be treated humanly and shown much kindness and grace), but the manner of the message in this film rubbed me the wrong way. Where is the line between cinema and propaganda? I’m not exactly sure, but Milk hugs the line far more than I would have preferred.
