The movie Milk is the story of the political activist Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official and the victim of assassination by one of his colleagues not long after he took office as a San Francisco Supervisor in 1977. Beginning on his fortieth birthday and ending with his death, the film chronicles Milk's journey from a semi-closeted gay man who felt he had yet to do anything with his life to the so-called "Mayor of Castro Street" and inspiration to not only the gay community but almost every marginalized people group across the county. At the climax of his political career (and the movie) is the battle surrounding California's 1978 Prop 6 which would have allowed the firing of gay teachers. And woven in and out of his campaign speeches, a recorded manifesto to carry on his message in the event of his assassination, and his personal interactions with those around him is a call for love, tolerance, equality, change, and hope.

As a film, Milk is impressive. Director Gus Van Sant and his talented cast bring Milk's story to life in an impactful and inspiring way. Sean Penn's Harvey Milk becomes a man you want to believe in and follow. In supporting roles as Milk's lovers and/or members of his campaign, James Franco, Emile Hirsch, and Diego Luna poignantly reveal various faces, struggles, emotions, and realities of being a gay man in 1970s America. In much the same way that Milk encouraged gays across America to come out to their friends and their family, telling them that people would be moved to think differently if they knew their brother, colleague, friend or son was gay, the film and each character in its story almost does that for its audiences. And for this reviewer, that reality is one that hit very close to home.

As a Christian, there are definitely certain beliefs I have been brought up with regarding homosexuality. I do believe that the Bible makes some clear statements about it that really cannot be interpreted otherwise. But at the same time, in my life are also colleagues, friends, and might-as-well-be-family who are gay and whose presence in my life makes taking a stand or even coming to any conclusion on issues surrounding homosexuality a very difficult thing for me to do.

Perhaps that is why I not only found myself drawn to Milk's charisma but also captivated by Supervisor Dan White and his downward spiral ending in Milk's assassination. Don't get me wrong; I would not condone his actions under any circumstances. But in the same way that Milk isn't a flawlessly heroic martyr, neither is White a purely evil bigot. As Milk recognizes, in White is the deep struggle of a man who really does seem to want to do what's right and for the greater good, but who keeps being pulled in the opposite direction by fear, confusion, and selfishness. However, where that conflict ultimately leads White to a place of hatred, fracture, and destruction, I believe that is a place I can promise to never go myself. Even though I may be conflicted on how I should vote or speak out regarding homosexuality, what I am not conflicted about is the value of every person I know—whether gay or straight—and the love I have for each one of them. And while I do believe that love is sometimes about speaking to difficult truths, I am also certain that it in no way opens the door for discrimination, mistreatment, condemnation, or superiority, and anytime it does, it no longer continues to be love. At the center of Milk and his story is "the gay issue." But as Milk says, "it's more than an issue&ellips; this is not just jobs or issues, this is our lives we're fighting for."As such, I believe that whatever your moral or religious beliefs regarding homosexuality, in Milk and its story are true and valuable messages that should not be disregarded. Central to both Milk's campaign as well his own personal journey is the search for place and belonging. "There must be a place for us in this world," says Milk. "My brothers and sisters, we have come home again." In the face of police brutality and workplace discrimination is the need to know that their lives are just as valuable and worthy of protection as anyone else's. And in the shadow of desperate acts of suicide and hateful acts of murder is the need to believe that there is hope for a better tomorrow. "Without hope, not only gays, but those who are blacks, the Asians, the disabled, the seniors, the usses; without hope the usses give up," says Milk. "I know that you can't live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living."

Continue: 1 2