It was the Oscars last week (didn't you hear?), a time we where can all bask in the dulcit tones of Billy Crystal for several hours while award after award is handed out to all the marionettes of Hollywood. I'm kidding, of course, Billy Crystal didn't host it this year. This year we were treated to a Hugh Jackman performance, together with his trusty adamantium claws. I didn't actually see any of the Oscars, or the highlights for that matter (I was working at the time) but I heard that opinions were mixed upon his ability as a host. The most balanced I found was from the New York Times: "a shrewd, even thrifty choice for a recession-era Oscar night - the hosting equivalent of a value meal". Maccy D's, anyone?

I'm not actually that opposed to the Oscars, it's clearly a mark of acheivement in the field of filmmaking. But it's always seemed like an award that depends much more on how much sway and presence you have in Hollywood than about acknowledging the films that have truly stood out in the year. And inevitably, once the winners are announced, these are the films that become the hot topics at the watercooler, with 'Slumdog Millionaire' leading the charge this year. Surprisingly, the film hasn't been publicised much here at all, at the other end of the spectrum to what I imagine the hype levels are in the UK right now, with kids saying stuff like:

"its made by that guy who made 'Trainspotting' + '28 Days Later' + its got Anwar from 'Skins' on it I luv 'Skins' its so real my life iz just lyk it."

Damn kids. In all seriousness, I've been curious to see what all the fuss is about but instead I went to see one of the other winners today, Gus Van Sant's 'Milk', starring Sean Penn in his Oscar-winning role as the eponymous Harvey Milk, political activist and first gay man to be elected to public office in the USA. The film follows the last 8 years of Milk's life, an insurance salesman in New York who decides that he needs a change. He meets Scott Smith (James Franco) and the two move to San Francisco to begin a new life together. But seeing the injustices that homosexuals face even in San Francisco, Milk decides to take an interest in strengthening the gay community of Castro. As the community grows, so does his interest and even his reputation, and soon he begins to set his sights on position of City Supervisor, moving his focus to municipal matters, to regional matters, and eventually to state matters. Unfortunately for Milk, his life is tragically cut short but the mark he made on America will never be rubbed out. (By the way, the film opens with his death so there's need for spoiler complaints.)

First up - Penn: superb. To say he completely embodies the character might be presumptuous of me since I knew nothing of Harvey Milk before the film, but his performance is magnificent. Penn is that kind of actor that, despite being world-renowned and instantly recognisable, dives so deep into the psyche of his character that he leaves nothing but that person for us to see, in this case Harvey Milk. Unlike Tom Cruise, who will never be anyone but Tom Cruise, or more recently Tom Cruise with an eye-patch. It's a full-rounded performance as the empowered activist delivering his speeches to his devotees juxtaposed with the down-to-earth man looking for all the things that everyone wants: equality, companionship and love. Luckily for Penn, his counterparts don't leave all the work up to him. James Franco and Emile Hirsch as the bright young spark Cleve Jones give stellar yet nuanced performances; Franco's range of ability impresses me more and more with every film he appears in, he's certainly an actor to look out for in the coming years, if not right now; and Emile Hirsch surprised me here, having only recognised him from 'The Girl Next Door' and 'Speed Racer'. He's already proved here that he play an unusual character and play it well (even if it was a small part). And of course there's Josh Brolin as Dan White, the gruff tradicional conservative who you're never too sure about throughout the whole film. At one point, Milk questions White's sexuality whilst talking with his colleagues, a suspicion that sticks in your head for the rest of the film but which Brolin maintains tantalisingly ambiguous, open enough for interpretation.

Structurally and stylistically, the film is somewhat of a departure from typical Van Sant vehicles of late, taking a more traditional approach to narrative and photography (this is, after all a Hollywood biopic, one can't expect the observational cinema of 'Last Days' to sit comfortably here). Many of his trademarks do appear, just not as abundantly as has been seen in the past. The most prevalent use of stylised imagery in the film would be the recurring use of mirrors and reflections, the most striking being a scene of Milk talking to a police officer about the murder of a gay teenager with the victim dead at their feet, all from the point of view of the reflecion on a metal whistle. It's a mesmerising shot, especialy on a big screen. But ultimately Van Sant lets Penn take the reins here, letting the characters and not the images do the talking.

My only real quarrel with the film was Danny Elfman's score. Usually a composer I enjoy, the soundtrack here seemed to be all over the place. It began quite modern-sounding, which I thought suited the subject matter and the director's (usual) cinematic language. But then it soon veered into typical Elfman-esque areas with gothic choirs and lots of glockenspiels (like in 'Edward Scissorhands') which didn't seem to work well with the images onscreen, not even in an ironic sense. Most frustratingly, however, is that the moments of triumph and achievement were accompanied by the oh-so-cheesy John Williams-style crescendo of strings. You know which one I mean, it's that music you hear when someone has just said an important speech and there's utter silence. Then someone starts the slow clap and by the end everyone's clapping and cheering and the music is so rousing everyone starts crying, even if they can't actually hear it. It makes me think whenever a scene like this appears in a film, the composers just put on the preset everyone uses and take the day off. Is there really no other way to score these kinds of scenes?

I've read that a biopic about Harvey Milk has been a long time coming. I'm glad we were made to wait until Van Sant and Penn came along, there really isn't any other director that could be more apt to make this film, specifically for reasons of subject matter and visual style. And Penn, while not only encapsulating the character, looks like the spitting image of Milk himself, as the credits reveal. It's surprising that this didn't pick up more Oscars since Hollywood tends to love biopics and this was a tremendous effort in all aspects (bar old Danny). But then again, it's a film about a gay activist and it's Hollywood (not America, mind you). Then how did Sean Penn win Best Actor, I hear you ask. Well of course he was going to win, Penn's an important member of the Film Actors Guild...

KAPLA!!!