The Times Of Harvey Milk
Great documentary; it won the Oscar twenty-odd years ago. I knew who Milk was, and what had happened to him, but not the details, and my God what a crazy story — did you know that his killer, Dan White, debuted the “Twinkie defense”? I didn’t. I mean, as if the case isn’t notable enough already…and of all the brand names to hide behind for shooting a gay activist. (I also didn’t know that the Twinkie defense, at least in its original incarnation, is not actually “the defendant is not responsible because he ate a lot of sugar, which made him bazoo”; in fact, it was “the defendant is depressed, as evidence by the fact that he’s eating a lot of sugar, which he doesn’t ordinarily do because he’s a health-food guy, ergo diminished capacity applies.” In other words, the Twinkies were the proof of White’s mental illness, not the cause.
The movie didn’t offer much follow-up on White after he got his tiny sentence and went to prison, except to have narrator Fierstein note acidly that White didn’t receive any psychiatric treatment while he was in the clink. This is partly because the movie got made in 1984, before the story had entirely ended, and partly because I think the filmmakers elected to focus on Milk and his effect on the city and the world, and not get too caught up in hating on White. Bigger people than I, so I looked it up online, because I wanted to know that White had not enjoyed a happy anonymous existence after his parole.
I thought I wanted to know that, anyway, but it turns out that White got released; was asked via press conference via then-mayor Dianne Feinstein not to come back to San Francisco to live, which is ice-cold and, in theory, kind of awesome; and after a couple of years wound up taking his own life by sitting in the garage and breathing carbon monoxide, and I sat and stared at my computer and felt sad, for everyone involved. What a thoroughgoing waste, truly, for everyone; the man had a family, and I can’t imagine the nights his wife spent staring into the corner during the decade this was unfolding, not to mention afterwards. Maybe if he’d gotten medicated, some good could have come of it, some atonement, some lesson, something.
And what a horrendous week for San Francisco, back in 1978 when Milk and Mayor Moscone got killed. Jonestown had happened, what, two days before that? With Leo Ryan getting killed, not to mention close to a thousand other people — and the Peoples Temple started in the Bay Area. And then, this.
But watching the footage of the candlelight march on City Hall to honor Milk, and wondering how any of this could have been averted, got me thinking about all the many times in human history that this has happened — all the times just in the latter half of the twentieth century that this happened, that someone who was trying to bring different people together, or make some changes, got cut down. Dr. King, the Kennedys, Harvey Milk. Lincoln, if you want to go back further. That people who looked like they might just bring about an end to institutionalized bigotry of some sort got murdered before they could do it…but then, other people keep going. I don’t know how it happens that, faced with that sort of bleak information about human nature, and with the profundity of people’s aversion to change, people keep going and keep trying anyway. Hope always survives. One bitty winking spark of hope always makes it out, and a couple of people always blow on it patiently until it gets going again. All the people who went to Ground Zero to help; Robert Kennedy Jr., the Riverkeeper; all you people who raised a hundred grand.
I get a little spark from every Donors Choose thank-you package I receive. One recent one, from a second-grade class we bought scrapbooking materials for, included a letter from “Tristan,” who said that they love the color printer and the other stuff: “It is asom.” I couldn’t agree more, young man, and I salute your time-saving spelling of the word “awesome.” Hee.
All this by way of saying that it’s an excellent film that will make you want to kick something, but take heart. Or kick some money over here.
Tags: friends movies news
Sars, I was in San Francisco in 1978, during my teenage rebel road trip years, and the effect Jonestown and the murders of Milk and the Mayor had on the city was profound. People walked around looking shell-shocked for WEEKS. It was a horrible wake up call for a very progressive city.
I do feel bad for Dan White; how can you not? But I also feel terrible for White and Moscone, and, for that matter, Oliver Sipple, who was outed by Milk and who had some of the same kinds of mental problems as Dan White but who managed to PREVENT an assassination instead of committing some.
Anyway, Gus Van Sant is now filming a biopic of Harvey Milk, with Sean Penn as Milk, James Franco as his boyfriend, Scott, Victor Garber as Mayor Moscone, and Josh Brolin as Dan White. Here’s (http://www.towleroad.com/harvey_milk/index.html) a page with a lot of behind-the-scenes info, including some great photos of San Francisco’s Castro district dressed to look like it did in the 1970s.
My mental health law professor in law school was on White’s defense team. I had serious doubts about the Twinkie defense until I met that man; he would not have defended White if he had not a) believed White to be sufferening from a true “mental disease or defect” and b) believed in his defense’s veracity.
What you’ve written about White’s sad end really resonates with me. The 1980s and 90s were not kind to mental health law, in California and nationally.
As I recall, Feinstein asking White not to come back to San Francisco was partly about not making the city relive the pain of that whole period, but also because people felt it was likely someone would kill him if he did.
I watched that film as part of a college course on homosexuality in America (go liberal arts!); it was excellent (that was also the same year as the Matthew Shepard murder, so it was particularly resonant for many of us).
I’d forgotten many of the details, but the footage of the candlelight march has stayed with me for almost ten years now. Absolutely striking–I’m actually tearing up now thinking about it.
As always, thank you for the insightful commentary!
Great, I’m crying. THANKS.
I live in the Castro and they were filming a lot there a few weeks ago. At first it was a little annoying (I kept hearing “Sean GODDAMNED Penn” in my head, hee), but one night I was coming out of the Castro station and they were filming the protest scenes from when Milk was first running for Sup (I think) and I watched a little, thinking it was neat to see a movie being shot, but then it struck me: Holy Crap, that shit happened here, a few years before I was born, all these people fighting for something so big and important and looking up to this man that was so good and righteous and now I get to live here and benefit from his strength and the loss when he was assasinated. My mother knew Milk, and she marched too. It was amazing.
I marched in that candlelight march in 1978. Just being reminded of that experience from reading about you watching it in the documentary has made me tear up. One of the most profound experiences of my life.
I walked with a candle that night. I always think it’s inaccurate to call it a march — it was a walk, a walk of grieving, a walk for peace, a walk of love. It’s a great movie, and Milk was a great man.
Magpie, that was it exactly. Feinstein hated him and very publicly told him not to come back as a slap in the face. A huge part of the decision, though, was that had he come back he wouldn’t have survived a week.
There was an hour-long episode, I’m going to say on A&E, but it might have been one of the other stations, all about this. I think the show was Masterminds? Anyway, that was the first time I really understood the Twinkie defense and the whole context of that entire situation. Not as good as this documentary, but a decent crash course on the crime, trial, aftermath, etc.
I was a little girl in the south bay when this all happened, and I remember watching the news with my parents and being confused and sad. They told me a good person had died but couldn’t really explain why. I also remember the riot after the trial, and how angry everyone was. I think this was my first lesson about how not everyone is free to be as they are. I’ve never forgotten it.
If you can find it, check out Kathy Mattea’s song “Beautiful Fool”. It’s a tribute to MLK, but one of the most poignant statements I’ve heard on those who try to make a difference and how much we seem to disregard the message.
I love this movie with all my heart. I saw it after it beat my favourite doc of the year, the wonderful Streetwise, but when I saw it I understood. I haven’t seen it in years, but the part I will always remember is the union guy, who said (I paraphrase), “How could I go back to the union and tell them to vote for this fruit? But he got Coors beer out of every gay bar in San Francisco.”
I loved the film as well. When I learned online that Dan White had killed himself, it
felt right. I was not surprised. I am not saying it felt right in that it is a happy or good
thing, but in a way, I felt more forgiving of him learning that he took his own life. It;s very
sad and confusing. Yet i agree with the blogger about how amazing it is that hope always prevails somehow … still, it pains me that so many are lost along the way … not just to death, but to loss of hope, lives of sadness, depression, drug abuse, violence, etc because
we cannot seem to get along as a people. It is a strange world. I always knew this, but getting older, my experience of it is more visceral than intellectual. I appreciate this blog
for lighting a candle of hope and all the people who wrote in as well. I agree the union guy was hilarious! I loved him. He was evidence of Harvey Milk’s ability to unite different types of people.
You can now watch this on Hulu.com for free. Thanks to Linda at Monkey See for the tip.