DexterManning

I saw "Broken Embraces" not knowing much about it other than it's by Pedro Almodovar, which in itself is enough reason for me to go see it. He's one of my favorite directors and there hasn't been a film I've seen of his that I didn't enjoy. But this one, for me, is easily one of his best endeavors, as far as the portion of his work I've seen (most of his films from the 1990s and every feature from this decade).

It even rivals "All About My Mother," which is still my favorite Almodovar film (and which happens to be the first one I saw). I found the story and the characters in "Embraces" to be quite engrossing, though sometimes the plot was a bit complicated (nothing that future showings wouldn't help unravel though). But what's an Almodovar film without juicy layers of complexity, right? I appreciate the fact that no major character, save for Diego, is flawless. A viewer can sympathize with a given character in one scene then hate him or her in a later scene because of their behavior and treatment of others, etc.

Hopefully, soon a box set of this director's films will be released, preferably on Blu-ray (I would imagine that would be inevitable). I would love to have this film in one package that also includes "All About My Mother," "Bad Education," "Live Flesh," "The Flower of My Secret" and "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown." (assuming the distribution rights to all those titles are held by one studio, which I'm not sure of).

It's a bitter irony that a major film about the iconic gay rights leader Harvey Milk should premiere in theaters across the country less than a month after Proposition 8 passed in California by voter referendum, thus barring gay marriage, for the moment. Similar laws were enacted in a number of other states in the country. One could imagine Milk may have been disheartened at such news, coming three decades after his efforts toward the civil rights struggles of a people. But, after seeing "Milk," the newest movie about his activism, politics and life, one could imagine that he and his sizable movement would be all the more determined to bring about equality for gays and lesbians.

Appropriately, the picture is shot, by Director of Photography Harris Savides, largely with a documentary-style aesthetic that is both no-nonsense and candid, frequently mixing footage from actual marches, television reports, newspaper layouts and the like, into the rest of the film in a way that is relatively seamless (thanks, in part, to fine editing by Elliot Graham). My only quip about this is that perhaps the new scenes made for this film could have had a more grainy aesthetic to more thoroughly blend with the archival footage. But it's only a minor issue in a movie that is visually well-presented. The handful of new black and white stills pictures that Harvey takes of his partner, Scott, are particularly intriguing.

The resemblance to a documentary style of film-making doesn't end there, of course. Since this drama is about real people and events, there's bound to be some aspect of it that feels like a documentary. "Docudrama" — with the emphasis on the first half of the word —would be a convenient and apt description for this film, if one must categorize. In some ways this new film is a remake of "The Times of Harvey Milk," a first-rate documentary directed by Robert Epstein that appeared nearly twenty-five years ago. If there's any drawback to the current "Milk" it's that it covers so much of the same ground as the older film that those who have seen Epstein's project already know much of what will transpire in the new version. Aside from that, the newer "Milk" does delve more deeply and satisfactorily into its main subject's personal life and, because of its status as a docudrama, Van Sant is able to utilize the tools of creative and dramatic license at his disposal much more freely than Epstein could have, to greater emotional impact. We see more actual dialogue and relationships between Milk and his partners, friends, colleagues and others, something that wouldn't be likely with a regular documentary. In this way the subject at the center of attention of the new film seems more soulful, more human than he would otherwise. (That's not a criticism of Epstein's film.) So does everyone around him. The movie does a remarkable job at making all these people seem real.

The creative team captures the look and spirit of the Milk's time and place quite well, due in no small measure to Bill Groom's production design and Danny Glicker's clothing (and all that big hair). The actors look remarkably similar to the actual people they portray, with the centerpiece being the magnificent Sean Penn ("All the King's Men," "Mystic River") whose resemblance to his subject, Harvey Milk, is so uncannily close in appearance and voice one could mistake him for the actual person. It seems that Penn's looks did not have to be modified much as he looks much like Milk to begin with, though Milk's hair seems a bit curlier. The film is a treasure-trove of fine acting from its major players.

"Milk" will be remembered, in the very least, as one of the milestones in gay cinema. But, it deserves a higher honor: recognition as an important film about civil rights, and recognition as an important film, period.

Central to this story's concerns are not so much the clergy and religion (those are mostly tools to help serve the story), but the nature of people's perceptions of certain events and of one another, their convictions that those perceptions are factually accurate, how they act upon those convictions (whether they are correct or misguided), and the consequences of those actions. (And, yes, one issue does beget the next.) It is about people believing what they want to believe, even if to do so they must turn the other cheek.

It could not have been an easy task to incorporate so many essential human conditions into one story, and develop them as well they have been here, but John Patrick Shanley, who both directed the film and adapted his own play from stage to screen, has succeeded in what is easily one of the best-written films of the year.

These themes could occur in any place or at any time, but it makes sense that Shanley chooses to set it in a Catholic church and school located in the Bronx in the mid 1960s, a year after President Kennedy's assassination. It is, arguably, a time when people within the country have doubts about the world and themselves and, perhaps, looks to their religion and faith to find some hint of reassurance. Yet, over a relatively short time, that stability and certainty is challenged for the small group of nuns, clergy, parishioners, teachers and parents at the center of this story.

This is one of the better stage-to-screen adaptations in recent memory despite the fact that it was directed by the same person who wrote the original play. I don't mean that as an automatic criticism of all such movies; it's just that many such films, in their execution, are sometimes too "stagey"—mere replicas of the shows they were based on, rather than assured transformations from one medium to another. ("The History Boys" and the newer, musical version of "The Producers" are good examples of good stage shows turned into poor movies because their basic cinematic requirements were ignored.) An oft-overlooked fact is that each medium has its own distinct conventions and opportunities to be taken advantage of.

"Doubt" does not entirely overcome this transitional problem. The entire production still feels rather theatrical, which is not necessarily a criticism in and of itself. However, some scenes do look a bit overly-staged here and there, especially when the sole action on the screen—and from the speakers—consists of characters standing and talking to one another. Of course, this story is told much more through dialogue than physical action, so it is expected that most of the running time would be devoted to characters speaking. Notwithstanding this, little cinematic touches could have been introduced to make the whole affair seem more cinematic without sacrificing the simplicity that works so much to the film's benefit. One obvious touch would be the addition of a bit more music to the soundtrack. It's ironic that Howard Shore, one of the most revered film score composers working today, was hired for this movie, yet his work is only infrequently used.

The somewhat static quality brought on by the occasional staginess, in any case, is a relatively small criticism, which the writing—the meat and potatoes of the film—easily overcomes. Shanley clearly is an expert at the art of metaphor, a talent which abounds in his script, sometimes a little too often or too humorously, but never so much as to be a true distraction; it's usually just enough to make things more interesting. Some of the more memorable uses involve the weather, a light bulb, glasses of milk and, best of all, a bloody steak.

If you were not able to see the theatrical play (even if you did see it) go see this film. You may wish you had seen the play. If you're not religious, don't let the church setting, and presence of nuns and priests scare you away, as it's about something more fundamental and universal than religion. No matter what your persuasion, it merits a close viewing.