Harvey Milk (2008)

Wes Anderson is decent enough. But he’s gotta throw in some pathetic little moment; that whole bit where Carmen is weeping against the window is total trash, but I kind of expect it from him, so it’d probably feel weird if it wasn't there.

By the end, I wasn't even sure how I felt about the pacing. Maybe it was okay that they didn't spend more time on Dan White, or maybe it worked because it showed how he was just simmering internally without making a huge scene out of it. I guess.

The acting was pretty terrible, honestly. Except for that surreal Spanish guy—the one who cries a bit too much, almost reminds me of KD Lang.

Look, the movie is solid, but if you ask me, it leans way too hard on the whole LGBTQ+ rights angle to make its point.

A decent enough effort, though it feels a bit formulaic—just like most biographical dramas lately. In certain scenes, it’s almost as if Penn is just recycling his performance from I Am Biting. The film didn't quite earn those heavy-hitting nominations, but let's be clear: Van Sant is still a top-tier director.