Times of Harvey Milk, The (1984)

I had never heard of Harvey Milk before seeing the documentary made by Robert Epstein. Milk took up a cause similar to other socio-political leaders who dared to challenge so-called moral convention by introducing to a wide audience a different way of life. People like Martin Luther King. Both Milk and King have had effects on the course of American history and indeed have inspired millions of people around the world. Why then did I not hear of the name Harvey Milk until I was 22?

Milk was America’s first openly gay elected official. San Francisco mayor George Moscone had divided up the city into districts allowing for neighbors at large to vote for more personal representatives, people the people could feel would do more for them. Milk was elected as City Councilman for District 5, the Castro area where an ever growing gay population was finally winning recognition and civil rights. But with the election of a gay man to public office taking the issue of homosexuality out of hushed whispers and screaming it loud inside newspapers, conservatives began proposing legislation to deny and in some cases strip Americans of their rights. While there was reason to celebrate Milk’s victory and the victory of gay people across the nation, communities in America were passing laws against gay people. The Briggs Initiative was proposed as Prop 6, a law that would fire all gay teachers from public schools in California. The reasoning behind this was that gays who want to live openly could more easily prey upon children.

The Times of Harvey Milk, created out of masterfully used archival footage and straight-forward, honest talking heads, shows a segment of a debate between Milk and Senator Briggs, cultivator of the initiative. Milk correctly points out that most pedophiles are straight males, and Briggs, apparently unfamiliar with this info gathered by several sources including the FBI, offers his reasoning for removing gays, in his estimation 5% of the population: if gay teachers were fired, than there is a 5% less chance that children would be sexually assaulted. This reasoning gets a laugh out of Harvey. Why not go ahead and remove the 95% of heterosexual teachers to totally protect the children? The thinking is ludicrous, and Prop 6 lost by a wide margin.

I think the documentary genre is suffering now more than ever. Most would disagree, and statistics would show me up: documentaries show in major art-house theaters, and in rare but evident cases they play in multiplexes across the nation. They make money, and the genre is quite popular with young film buffs... to an extent. I think it’s still a specialized genre or form of filmmaking, but when I say that documentaries are suffering I’m talking about the art of the medium. This is why The Times of Harvey Milk works so well. Most modern documentaries feel, look and sound like reality shows. They have a central character, often the filmmaker, taking up a task and accomplishing it with a camera in tow. They usually provide narration explaining what’s happening on screen. Often the interview segments are cut together so that the subjects form complete but superficial thoughts through the splicing together of many sound bites, and wall-to-wall music is laid in to I guess keep the audience awake, and this music is poorly chosen and repetitive.

The Times of Harvey Milk is relatively quiet, eloquently photographed, and it features subjects with insights and personalities, and the filmmaker brings them out fully formed characters. And director / editor Epstein lets these people speak. Some of them break down when talking of Harvey’s death and San Francisco’s reaction. Epstein isn’t a cheat; he doesn’t go for extreme close-ups of their eyes or their hands fiddling with a handkerchief, or even worse out of focus shots of completely uninvolving objects around the room. He lets us watch their faces, see the rage and pain of Harvey’s death, the joys that accompanied his many accomplishments, and their fondness for the man. And again they all speak so brilliantly. A labor union leader who admits to before having known Harvey having somewhat anti-gay tendencies goes through a complete story arc. He reveals that because of his association with Harvey through their like-minded political views he is in favor of gay rights.

I hate to be personal beyond my opinion, but with documentaries like The Times of Harvey Milk it seems impossible to disassociate myself from the story I have seen. I came out around the time I first saw the documentary in a college class... maybe a year earlier. It’s been so long I can’t remember now. When I was watching the film I couldn’t believe that this man, Harvey Milk, who accomplished a lot in a short career, has, since his death, been ignored by the mainstream media. He is certainly not forgotten; not in San Francisco where he was assassinated by a colleague: a statue has been erected of him. And indeed Milk’s name is not buried under the rubble of history. The problem is people have to search for him, unlike other leaders or influential persons who’ve charged their constituencies and extended themselves beyond them—history and the American population have exalted these men as exemplary, have named days after them, and their life’s work is taught in history books. But not Harvey Milk’s. Why?

The documentary is asking this question but in a larger context: if Milk were straight, would his murderer have served only 5 ½ years in prison? Would or should he have not instead been serving life?

Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone were killed by Dan White, elected to office at the same time as Milk, and he is made the antagonist of the film. White is an interesting character: an idealist whose spirit is crushed by an ever-changing and degrading society, at least this was the defense’s position. White sunk into the City Hall with a loaded gun and extra bullets after resigning his position and then later wanting to recant his resignation. It is against the law for White to regain his job, and when Moscone supposedly told White he would not be reinstated White shot him, and then shot him again. He did the same to Harvey Milk: shot him to the ground, shot him three more times in the head, and then delivering one final execution shot at point blank range. It is clear who the murderer was, but the jury, supposedly a jury of straight white conservatives, a true group of Dan White’s peers, found him guilty of manslaughter, a crime that sentenced him to 8 years in prison. He was paroled after 5 ½.

The aftermath of Harvey’s death is quite spectacular: thousands took to the streets for a candlelight vigil beginning on Castro Street, where Harvey Milk lived, and it spread several blocks to City Hall. The aftermath of the jury verdict was quite different. A mob stormed City Hall, fought with police and set cars. One image I found striking was a protestor holding a sign, “Avenge Harvey Milk”. I was angry that Milk’s death meant nothing to those jurors and the millions they represent then and now in the United States, but despite it all I was depressed that this was the reaction. This violence was not what Harvey Milk campaigned for. A close friend of his says this in the documentary. And it depressed me because ultimately, at least in the short term, Harvey Milk had lost. His death inspired violence, and I was further discouraged to learn that Dan White committed suicide in 1985, a year after the documentary was released. When I first saw this film in class, many of the students felt that justice was finally served. Not I; the final chapter in this story was simply another death. What a waste.

I began this essay by referring to Harvey Milk in a more formal way by calling him “Milk”. When revising it, I noticed that half-way through I began calling him Harvey. I promise that this was unintentional. The film, I think, breaks down barriers between you or me and its subject. We get to know who Harvey Milk was, his kindnesses and tenacity, both terrific qualities in friends and public officials. We grow to love this guy through archival footage, and more importantly by how he had shaped the lives of everyone the filmmakers chose to speak with.

Why then is Harvey Milk still a relatively unknown figure? Why don’t we have a national Harvey Milk Day? Are there no politicians, gay or straight, with the balls to support such an honor? Would committing political suicide not be worth honoring the life of one man who died for making the world better for others?

Times of Harvey Milk, The (1984)

Director: Rob Epstein

Writers: Judith Coburn, Rob Epstein & Carter Wilson

Stars: Harvey Fierstein (Narrator)

USA

In English

Runtime: 90 minutes

IMDB link:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088275/

Metropolis: The Morodor Version (1927 / 1984)

The “Moroder” version of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, created in 1984, has become something of an affectionate curiosity.  Debates over its existence have apparently raged among film buffs, many of whom find the alterations in this version something akin to blasphemy, though the film has had its champions.  Roger Ebert gave it 4 stars, insisting he simply ignored the soundtrack and focused in on Lang’s overpowering imagery. An online push for its DVD and Blu-ray release, and the ignorance against these voices, has lead one enterprising individual to “recreate” the Moroder version by colorizing the best available material (probably using the 2002 restoration released on DVD by Kino International in the US and Eureka in the UK) and restoring and adding Moroder’s 80s pop soundtrack.

The version I viewed was either a VHS or Laserdisc port to DVD with overblown contrast and surprisingly vibrant sound (probably taken from Laserdisc) which I had to download…illegally.  This was my sixth overall viewing of Metropolis, having seen the 2002 restoration twice, the complete 2010 restoration, the 2002 with audio commentary, and then again the 2010, followed now by the Moroder version.  Giorgio Moroder, a popular producer of pop / rock movie soundtracks, really owns this version.  The music aside, which actually works very well with the film, this 82 minute version excises most of the title cards, opts for subtitles (an interesting decision), alters Lang’s editing far beyond the missing footage did and recreates shots and adds special effects.  Oh yeah, and the film is now in color.  Not really, though that proclamation opens the film.  Moroder uses color tints, popular in Weimar-era German films.  Based on all the definitive restorations of silent Fritz Lang films done by the F.W. Murnau Foundation (which restores the color tints when applicable) none of Lang’s films had tinting because in his lifetime Lang voiced his opinion against them.

The story in the Moroder version is basically the same.  In a futuristic city (dated in only this film version as 2026) the workers live underground and provide power for the rich who live in Joh Frederson’s Metropolis.  Ferder, his privileged son, falls in love with Maria, a champion of workers’ rights, and in his pursuit of her discovers the deplorable conditions the workers face.  So he sets about leveling the balance among the rich and poor.  Meanwhile, the genius inventor Rotwang has invented the Machine Man as a substitute for his dead love, and Joh Frederson makes Rotwang give the robot Maria’s likeness so that she may mislead the workers and cause their destruction.  Often with silent movies symbolism and metaphor count much more than subtly which I guess is harder to obtain with pure images.  The 2002 restoration of Metropolis, which was missing 25 minutes of footage, had title cards explaining the plot development of the missing scenes, and thus the primitive narrative could have before been blamed on the film’s lack of completeness.  A lot of the story is pure pulp, something out of a hackneyed detective novel.  This kind of material seems to always be present in Lang’s silent films, and many put the blame on Thea von Harbou, Lang’s wife and prolific writer in the pre-National Socialist era and later a devoted Nazi.  While von Harbou’s tastes may have been more closely related to the crime story or newspaper novel, this simplicity in storytelling is the narrative tradition of German Expressionism, arguably the most influential movement in film history.  Ceaser, the somnambulist villain in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, is controlled by the title character for purely superficial reasons.  That is to say, everything Caligari had Ceaser do the Doctor could have done himself, only Ceaser’s black leotard figure was more intriguing.  In Nosferatu, the complexity of structure found in Bram Stoker’s Dracula is replaced with more symbolic imagery which could refine in mere seconds a single idea, even if by today’s standards these are dated.  But Lang and von Harbou revel in melodrama, science fiction, machinery, noir, and spy elements, and rip-roaring adventure, and they make Metropolis work.  Balance is achieved in this genre defying epic.

The widely held belief is that the Moroder version is filled with wall to wall 80s rock songs by artists like Bonnie Tyler and Adam Ant.  That is only partly true.  Moroder uses excerpts of these songs to accent his original score which is quite terrific and even aids in the storytelling.  I think we all owe a debt of gratitude to Moroder for being one of the first to attempt to recreate Lang’s original cut of the film and for filling in the missing footage with title cards explaining the important story developments in the missing scenes.  The restoration here is fantastic.  The image quality is just about as good as the 2002 digital restoration, though I cannot say for certain if Moroder’s version was the first to try and preserve this magnificent film.  The color tints annoyed me a little because Lang did not approve them.  Color is a dominating visual factor and highly moving in its own right.  To a certain extent, the tints manipulated the story telling of Metropolis.  But in viewing this version this is something we must come to terms with.  The color tints are unique, and the recreation of the missing sections of film goes so far as rebuilding and photographing an original statue of Hel which Rotwang keeps in his laboratory.

Some of the story is also excised.  The character of 11811 goes unused altogether; there is no mention of his run-ins with the Thin Man who retains only his opening and closing scenes.  Until the 2010 restoration these scenes were all that existed of that performance, but at least the 2002 restoration did mention these episodes in title cards.  But Moroder’s version does tell a complete story, even if Rotwang’s motivations are completely changed.  He becomes even more like Dr. Frankenstein: having created the monster, he can no longer control it.  The Machine Man, disguised as Maria, is no longer following orders, and as a consolation Rotwang chooses to keep the real Maria to himself.  Using this story or Lang and Thea von Harbou’s version provides the same simple storytelling, so this didn’t bother me.

Another addition to the soundtrack is sound effects, used similarly to today’s folly effects; large crowd scenes are given cheers, footsteps and other incidental sounds, and many of the “bangs” or percussive movements have accompanying effects.  This irked me.

I had the privilege of being one of the first New Englanders to see the most complete version of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.  The Alloy Orchestra, specializing in silent film scores, did a live performance of an original score first written as an alternate soundtrack to the Moroder version.  I didn’t like The Alloy Orchestra score because they built sound effects into their music.  We are watching a silent movie.  Let the music take over.  Gottfried Huppertz’s original 1927 score, created for the Berlin premiere, is one of the best movie scores ever written.  He did not suggest sounds but provided an emotional and epic soundscape for Lang’s opus.  But upon reflection, one viewing of a silent movie can differ from another.  Different musical scores add their own, and now, months after hearing The Alloy Orchestra score, I miss their music and regret that Kino did not include it in their Blu-ray release of the 2010 restoration.  I can say the same about the Moroder version.  I felt a fondness for this film as I watched it.  Maybe the knowledge of the complete version of the film existing softened my reaction to this film.

There are many Metropolises and each one adds something to the experience, lengthening its reputation for the next generation, and since the 1980s, we have been making our way to the complete version of the film.  If you can, see the Moroder version.  Moroder was not ruining a classic film, simply presenting another version of Fritz Lang’s dizzying dystopia.

Metropolis (1927)

(Metropolis: The Morodor Version (1984) )

Director: Fritz Lang

Writer: Thea von Harbou

Stars: Brigitte Helm, Alfred Abel, and Gustav Frohlich

Germany

Silent with English subtitles and intertitles

Runtime: 82 minutes

Unfortunately Giorgio Moroder's version of Metropolis has not been released on any digital format.  Used VHS copies might be available via Ebay or Amazon's marketplace.  Online sites may be the best way to view Morodor's version.

IMDB link:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0017136/