From Huffington Post:
Yet Milk is curiously placid and sterile, even prudish. We never see more than a tablespoon of blood at a time. The 10-second sex scene we only partially see in a dark bedroom between Milk and a boyfriend is all slap and tickle. And every character, including the runaway teen Milk befriends — Cleve Jones, who survives by turning tricks on the notoriously seedy and dangerous (though never depicted) Polk Street — looks freshly showered and dressed by the Gap.
[. . .]
Bitch, I’ve seen queers more fired up when Bed Bath & Beyond runs out of sale items. Where’s the passion?
Was Van Sant afraid that audiences wouldn’t be sympathetic if 70s-era gay activists were people who suffered, swore, fought back, and fucked like they meant it? If the street kids actually looked like dirty, starving, broke-ass teen hustlers?
Gay history — unedited — is ugly, angry, and violent. It’s police dragging us out of cellar bars and down to the station to gang fuck the femmes and face-rape the butches, queens, and trannies. It’s military witch hunts; suicides and “experimental therapies,” from lobotomies and electro-shock to Christian boot camps. It’s Stonewall, where we showered raiding police with bottles, locked them in the bar, and set it afire. It’s ACT UP and chaining ourselves to pharmaceutical companies’ fences to protest AIDS drugs price gouging.
Van Sant’s gentrified Milk reflects gay activism’s increasingly apologetic tone. We don’t always need to be burning police cars to prove our cred, but we shouldn’t be inviting homophobes to the table, then singing their praises if they don’t spit on us. It’s not about hugging Rick Warren and being satisfied that at least he’s being nice about denying us our civil rights. Politeness has become homophobia’s most popular mask.
I’ve seen the movie two times now, and parts of it a couple more times. I’d have to say I agree with Goldstein. I enjoyed the film, but found so much worrisome. Goldstein hits (one of) the nails on the head with her column.
It’s the exact same debate about Philadelphia fifteen years ago, and it comes down to a question of audience and purpose. This was meant to be seen by people who care nothing or little about gay rights and politics. It was especially made for those people who are pro-gay rights but don’t really think or do anything about it (and that means straight and lesbigays, too). It’s a celebration.
I’m not saying it’s the right track to take. I’m just saying it’s the track that’s always taken for this kind of movie. And considering that it’s taken over a decade just to get this version done? It’s scary.
We’re seeing it tomorrow. I expect to get annoyed at things and love it all at once. Milk’s story was moving to obscurity, and it shouldn’t. I hope this helps.
I agree that there is an audience issue here, and that the movie would probably be seen less if it were as radical as it should (in my opinion) be. It is a celebration movie meant for a liberal mainstream audience.
You know, I haven’t seen Philadelphia, and I need to. Also, I was surprised with how many gay men I’ve talked to who don’t know who Milk was or who only knew very little about him.
Philadelphia, indeed — what a nightmare!
And I need to look this Nancy Goldstein up…
love —
mattilda
You know, when I teach Intro to Gender Studies next spring, I’m thinking of having an exam where we just go over major figures like Sojourner Truth and Harvey Milk and all those people that can’t be forgotten.
Yeah, I find myself developing a gay/queer cultural literacy mentality, a la E.D. Hirsch. It makes me cringe to think of myself that way.