Gus Van Sant has made some curious choices in his career, most notably the bizarre decision to do a carbon copy remake of Psycho.  But when he’s focused, as he was in his Columbine school shooting film Elephant, he can do some remarkable work.  And thankfully it’s that Gus who’s at the helm of Milk, a recounting of the political life of businessman Harvey Milk and his successful quest to become the first openly gay voice in American politics.

The fact that Milk’s campaign happened as recently as the 1970s seems inconceivable now, and it’s precisely because of that lack of appreciation of history within popular culture that this is such a valuable film.  America has proven it can cope with a black President, but there’s still considerable progress to be made as far as acceptance of homosexuality is concerned.  Having films like Milk in the mainstream rather than the arthouse plays a part in the process of normalisation.

All of which makes the film sound dangerously worthy, and thankfully Milk is anything but that.  It’s a warm and multifaceted exploration of the life of a man who simply had the guts to stand up and be counted on behalf of his community at a time when homophobia was widespread and often expressed in the form of violence.

What I didn’t realise was the extent to which Harvey Milk was responsible for San Francisco being known as a gay city.  According to the film at least (this is a matter I am otherwise ignorant about) it was Milk circulating a list of gay-friendly businesses that helped turn the Castro into the gay part of town: those who accepted the pink dollar flourished while others dwindled away.

That was an interesting move to make, and points to Milk’s origins as a Republican businessman who understood how economic leverage works.  Milk himself, superbly portrayed by Sean Penn, is an utterly credible character, a pragmatist who finds himself moved by the situation his community is in to do something concrete by standing for public office.  Dustin Lance Black’s script synthesises what must be oodles of research into a journey that must have been much more frustrating in life than it could possibly appear in two hours or so of screen time.

Harvey is someone I’d love to have met, his ability to implement change in the real world an inspiring one.  He wasn’t just the voice of the gay community, but an early example of someone who recognised the rainbow coalition, and the importance of minority groups standing by one another in the face of bigotry and exploitation.  It was Milk who extended the hand of friendship to the Teamsters union and got the gay community to boycott Coors beer — the union reciprocated the favour and welcomed openly gay truck drivers to their ranks.  This act of fellowship came at a time when Anita Bryant and others were campaigning for homosexuals to be removed from their jobs: make no mistake, it was a sign of defiance.

While Milk rightly concentrates on Harvey’s political career and the events leading up to his assassination, there’s no separating ideology from the life he lived.  Nor could there be: Harvey Milk’s actions came from who he was, and the world he lived in, and the two were seamless.  And no making Harvey a saint either: he’s presented in a light that makes his everydayness part of the story.  He’s a man, like any other.  But unlike most, he rose to the challenge his community faced, and didn’t back down.  And that’s what makes Harvey Milk worth making a film about.