Milk,' meet Oscar

Gay rights activist Harvey Milk was tragically gunned down in 1978, but his legacy – and his rousing words, "You gotta give 'em hope" – spill into the now. Which is what makes out director Gus Van Sant's classic-destined biopic about Milk's too-short life, his unwavering bravery and his contagious spirit even more relevant as California's recent ban on gay marriage brought on nationwide protests.
Rewind 30 years. Here we are in San Francisco's Castro District, the setting for much of "Milk," which opens with Milk (Sean Penn) solemnly speaking into a recorder, practically predicting his own eventual demise at 48, as he narrates his journey. A rough ride through failed relationships, gay-rights resistance and death threats – but, also, one of bravery, as Milk marched forward, shaking off any, and just about all, adversaries. Even those close to him.
Boyfriends, like the immature Jack Lira (Diego Luna) and the dashing Scott Smith (a scruffy James Franco, who clicks perfectly with Penn early on), topple to the wayside – and eventually fail – as Milk throws most of his energy, ambition and attention into his real love affair: gay rights. Met with religious-right opponents, like nutty conservative Anita Bryant (shown via actual vintage videos) and California State Sen. John Briggs (a riveting, cold-as-ice Denis O'Hare), Milk's moxie – after being unhappy with how he's spent his first 40 years – only swells, but his public ego never does. During a heart-touchy moment, he receives a phone call from a young boy on the verge of suicide. It's a pivotal point in the film, especially when the kid tells him he's from another state – and Milk realizes, as do we, how his consuming, far-reaching work is affecting not only California, but also the world.
And Van Sant captures that, using Dustin Lance Black's ("Big Love") stellar script, with a spot-on tender and warmly humanistic tinge, especially in the handling of Penn as Milk. The actor is Harvey Milk, swathing the crusader with a zest for life that makes his looming death all-the-more solemn, and a passion that's immensely undeterred. To boot, Penn's multi-faceted performance illustrates the real-life Milk's nuances, painting him with a light femme brushstroke and sprinkling his wacky bons mots throughout. When lesbian campaign manager Anne Kronenberg (Alison Pill) begins working for him, he quips to his all-guy group, "She's the right price – and she has bigger balls than any of you."
It's an ensemble cast, really – with illuminating performances from Emile Hirsch (also brilliant in Penn-directed "Into the Wild"), who plays the bright, sassy kid Cleve Jones and brings a sponge-light touch to the heavy-handedness of the info-packed subject matter, and Josh Brolin, adding a dash of humanity to clean-cut city supervisor Dan White.
Lamentable, poignant and especially relevant, "Milk" is destined to be an award glutton come Oscar-nod announcement time. It's not just a gay story – it's a universal tale of unshaken determination in the eye of resistance. It's what we need most now. A