Will it be 'Milk' vs. 'Nixon/Frost' at the Oscars?

"Milk" is Oscar-bound.

It's too soon to know for sure, but by the looks of it, the soul-stirring Gus Van Sant film Milk could be up against Frost/Nixon come Oscar time. Milk opened in San Francisco last week. Frost/Nixon hits theaters Friday.

Both films may stand out for their dramatic verve, but it's hard to deny that Milk (**** out of four) is one of the best pictures of the year. It's passionate, timely and a triumph. What a fascinating jewel this is. Director Gus Van Sant delivers a rich kaleidoscope of the dawn of the gay civil rights movement and paints a fascinating portrait of San Francisco politico Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected into office on the board of supervisors. But don't mistake Milk for a sweeping biopic on Harvey Milk's life. Thanks to the savvy writing by screenwriter Dustin Lance Black, who worked on the script nearly four years, the movie's focus is tight and expertly honed in on the eight-year period in the '70s when Milk ascended to glory only to be brought down when he was shot and killed, along with the city's mayor, George Moscone, in November of 1978.

Van Sant (Good Will Hunting) may have wandered into curious creative territory over the last decade--Psycho, Elephant, Last Days--but he seems less internalized here as a director. The result is a magnificent opera-like tome of Milk's journey, a deeply engrossing experience that avoids the melodramatic with its understated nuances that command our attention from the very first frame.

But so, too, does Sean Penn, who absolutely loses himself in the lead role. The actor's pristine performance is a work of art and something that will certainly nab him an Oscar nomination. Fortunately, Penn is in fine company. The rest of the cast shines filling the shoes of real-life figures: James Franco delivers one of his best performances playing Milk's lover Scott Smith; Emile Hirsch surprises as flamboyant activist-in-the-making Cleve Jones--Jones went on to create the AIDS quilt, among other notables--Diego Luna steals many scenes playing tormented love interest Jack Lira; Allison Pill is on the mark as Milk campaign manager Anne Kronenberg; and Josh Brolin offers a haunting, unforgettable portrayal of supervisor Dan White, the man who took Milk's life less than a year after he was elected into office.

The movie opens in 1978. We find Harvey Milk sitting at the kitchen table of his apartment in the heart of the Castro in San Francisco. Talking into a tape recorder, he documents his life and times in the event of his assassination. From there, Van Sant ushers in archival footage of the fateful day--chaos at city hall, police moving body bags, Diane Feinstein (then president of the Board of Supervisors), delivering the bad news. The screenplay takes us back to Milk's kitchen-table recording at various points throughout the picture as it wanders back and forth through time--from 1970, where Milk first meets Smith in New York, and all the way through the decade, showing us several of Milk's ill-fated campaigns to be elected into office.

At issue, of course, were the rights of gay people. In the early '70s, the relationship between police and gays, particularly in the Castro, was less than divine. They may have been far worse in the rest of the nation, but even in the city, law enforcement officials were pulling homosexuals out of bars. Often, there were riots. The vibe just wasn't good. Milk saw the injustice in all this and sought to create a change. He strived to bring a sense of equality and raise the level of awareness--gays shared the same human rights as everybody else.

In the meantime, the man re-organized the Castro Village Association of local merchants, launched the Castro Street Fair, gave birth to the Gay Democratic Club--and more--and was dubbed "The Mayor of Castro Street," all while being at the helm of Castro Camera Shop with lover Smith. (Incidentally, Van Sant creates a moving love story between Milk and Smith, and Penn and Franco create one of the year's most memorable on-screen relationships.) Like the real-life figure, Penn's charms are infectious here. He portrays Milk's wide range of characteristics--playful lover to unrelenting politician--to phenomenal ends. Watch his eyes, his face, the way he moves--downright captivating. (Luna also stands out as Lira, Milk's tormented, one-time love interest.)

By the time Anita Bryant's infamous campaign to revoke the rights of gays in Dade County, Florida, comes into play in the film--and the subsequent launch of 1977's Proposition 6 (the Briggs Initiative) in California, which sought to terminate gay teachers and those associated with them--Milk refines his political mission. Having successfully landed on the board of supervisors, he sets out to bring Bryant's fight "home." Van Sant's keen skills generate enough triumphant glee once Milk and his milieu help defeat Prop 6 but you can't help but notice the eerie similarities between Prop 6 and Prop 8 (banning same-sex marriage), which was passed in California last month and sent out a ripple effect resulting in protests throughout the nation.

Probing deeper still, Harvey Milk's message may have been accentuated best during his 1978 Gay Freedom Day speech: "Wake up, America. No more racism, no more sexism, no more ageism, no more hatred. No more will we be harassed. No more will we stay in our closet. No more!"

It's a powerful wake-up call--hearing those words--and the film, as a whole, certainly shows how far the country has come in the fight for civil rights--for any group. But it also reminds of just how much farther we really have to go.