Milk (2008)

Sean Penn is life-changing in "Milk," the Oscar-winning biopic of gay civil rights leader Harvey Milk of San Francisco, slain on November 27, 1978 (the day my brother was born). Penn's entire body language, movement, even his smile and very eyes, disappear into the role of Milk, a NYC transplant who comes West in 1972 to open a small business.

Fed up with police abuse and constant bigotry from the political right, he soon becomes a community leader and then seeks city office. He gets the nod after multiple failed attempts and soon becomes the face of homosexuality in America. Is it any surprise he was murdered?

The cast of this mostly flashback-style biopic is amazing, from Emile Hirsch ("Into the Wild") as a young gangly hustler to Josh Brolin ("No Country for Old Men") as the angry conservative and fellow city supervisor who kills Milk and S.F. Mayor George Moscone (Victor Garber).

Dustin Lance Black's screenplay is a detailed wonder that balances dozens of characters and a good deal of history. But it's not a perfect beast. He and director Gus Van Sant ("Good Will Hunting") add in a double phone call between Milk and a suicidal gay teen - in a wheelchair! - that plays as way too sentimental and coy. Of course Milk inspired gay youths across the country to feel good about themselves, we don't need neon pointers.

Worse, the duo paints hell-bent White as a closeted gay man finally uncorked and brimming with rage. It's a weak, dumb and seriously cliched liberal argument. Here's the deal: self-righteous Bible-thumpers kill or harass gays for one reason, because they can. It makes them feel better about themselves and their God. There's nothing deeper or more secret than that cold evil fact. Heck, Brolin doesn't seem to cop to this card either. His slowly unraveling performance is brilliant.

That said, this is an uplifting film that uses real-life archival footage to great effect. (That really is Diane Feinstein announcing Milk and Moscone's deaths, and that really is Anita Bryant as one of God's bigots, err, believers.) But this is Penn's film, more so than "Mystic River." His Milk is geeky, shy, painfully trusting, jumpy in his own skin and prone to failed romances with immature or unstable men. He's much like any man, but he chases men. Not women. Who knew Penn had that in him.

Milk is not played as a hero or a saint, but a man who saw no one to lead his people and so became that leader. Penn deserves every accolade out there. A-