I'm re-reading Randy Shilts' "And The Band Played On" (a book, which, if you're under the age of 26 and have not yet read, put down whatever you're reading now and read it. If there was one book I wish all Americans would read, it would be this one.), and the opening chapters inspired me to check out this documentary.
Wow. There were moments in this I had to pause the DVD and get ahold of myself, I was so moved. Naturally, I'm a big pussy when it comes to movies -- see "All That Jazz" -- but for some reason, media about gay rights and the AIDS epidemic winds up touching me in a way few other subjects do. (You want to turn on the waterworks? Put on the end to "Longtime Companion.") Maybe because I have so many friends who are gay, sure, but I think it has to do with the fact that gay rights are still such an issue, and the beginnings of the movement were close enough to my own life that I can relate to it in a way that I can't with, say, civil rights. Or maybe because I had to find out about this topic on my own, as opposed to being taught about it in school.
There are a couple of moments in here that I think are worth noting: First, the appearance of Bill Kraus, one of the protagonists and eventual victims in "And The Band Played On", is one of the people interviewed. I've probably read "Band" four or five times now, and this was the first time I saw the real Kraus. And he looked so healthy, so youthful, that I had to pause because I knew what happened to him. It's very strange to look at those crowd scenes, like the giant wave of candles outside City Hall, and wonder how many of those people are alive today. The description and depiction of that candlight vigil, by the way, is pretty overwhelming.
The second moment that I want to point out is footage taken of street canvasing against Proposition 6, which was Milk's last victory before his assassination. There's a scene where a couple of activists approach an elderly Asian couple. As they start to talk about Proposition 6, which would have banned gay teachers in public schools, it's clear that the couple just wants to be left alone at first. But as the activists continue to talk to them, the camera pushes in on the man's face. And I don't know whether I was just projecting, or seeing what I wanted to see, but you can see the man think, and you can see him make up -- or even change -- his mind. And it ends with him saying "I agree with you." Stunning.
I thought the film did a great job of making you angry when White gets off (especially after the matter-of-fact way narrator Harvey Fierstein describes exactly what happened that day, letting White's cruelty stand for itself), but not leaving you angry. It ends on a note of optimism and hope, and in doing so, does justice to Milk's legacy.
Fantastic documentary, is what I'm saying.
Wow. There were moments in this I had to pause the DVD and get ahold of myself, I was so moved. Naturally, I'm a big pussy when it comes to movies -- see "All That Jazz" -- but for some reason, media about gay rights and the AIDS epidemic winds up touching me in a way few other subjects do. (You want to turn on the waterworks? Put on the end to "Longtime Companion.") Maybe because I have so many friends who are gay, sure, but I think it has to do with the fact that gay rights are still such an issue, and the beginnings of the movement were close enough to my own life that I can relate to it in a way that I can't with, say, civil rights. Or maybe because I had to find out about this topic on my own, as opposed to being taught about it in school.
There are a couple of moments in here that I think are worth noting: First, the appearance of Bill Kraus, one of the protagonists and eventual victims in "And The Band Played On", is one of the people interviewed. I've probably read "Band" four or five times now, and this was the first time I saw the real Kraus. And he looked so healthy, so youthful, that I had to pause because I knew what happened to him. It's very strange to look at those crowd scenes, like the giant wave of candles outside City Hall, and wonder how many of those people are alive today. The description and depiction of that candlight vigil, by the way, is pretty overwhelming.
The second moment that I want to point out is footage taken of street canvasing against Proposition 6, which was Milk's last victory before his assassination. There's a scene where a couple of activists approach an elderly Asian couple. As they start to talk about Proposition 6, which would have banned gay teachers in public schools, it's clear that the couple just wants to be left alone at first. But as the activists continue to talk to them, the camera pushes in on the man's face. And I don't know whether I was just projecting, or seeing what I wanted to see, but you can see the man think, and you can see him make up -- or even change -- his mind. And it ends with him saying "I agree with you." Stunning.
I thought the film did a great job of making you angry when White gets off (especially after the matter-of-fact way narrator Harvey Fierstein describes exactly what happened that day, letting White's cruelty stand for itself), but not leaving you angry. It ends on a note of optimism and hope, and in doing so, does justice to Milk's legacy.
Fantastic documentary, is what I'm saying.
