this is harvey milk speaking on friday november 18th. this is to be played only in the event of my death by assassination.  reveal: harvey milk, 48, sitting at his kitchen table in a cluttered san francisco apartment.
during one of the early campaigns, i started opening my speeches with the same line and it sort of became my signature.
hello, i'm harvey milk, and i'm here to recruit you.
if i was speaking to a slightly hostile or mostly straight audience, i'd try to break the tension with a joke.
i know, i know, i'm not what you were expecting, but i left my high heels at home. harvey gets a laugh from the audience.
i fully realize that a person who stands for what i stand for - an activist, a gay activist - becomes the target or potential target for a person who is insecure, terrified, afraid or very disturbed themselves.
knowing that i could be assassinated at any moment, i feel it's important that some people should understand my thoughts. i think that-- i wish i had time to explain everything i did. almost everything that was done was done with an eye on the gay movement.
hey. i'm harvey.
today's my birthday. no, today is actually my birthday. well, tonight. at midnight.
and, believe it or not, i don't have any plans. people took me out after work.
the great american insurance company. i'm part of the big, evil, corporate establishment that, let me guess, you think is the cause of every evil thing in the world from vietnam to diaper rash.
so.  you're not going to let me celebrate my birthday all by myself are you?
well then, i'm in luck.
because i'm still thirty-nine.  and it's only eleven-fifteen.
where are you from?
well, this isn't jackson, but you still can't respond to every strange man you meet on a subway platform. it's too dangerous.
there's nothing tougher than a new york city cop. they're arrogant, and they're everywhere. i'll show you the cruising spots, if you want, if you promise you'll be careful.  little scottie-san.
no. this is just.  plain old me.
i'm just discreet. i know a lot of people here. if they found out, i could lose my job.
i need a change.
forty years old and i haven't done a thing i'm proud of.
no. don't you worry. i won't make it to fifty. scott distracts him, playful, like a newlywed at a wedding, he rubs a slice of pie in harvey's face. harvey reacts. wipes the pie from his eye, and tackles his young, frisky new lover. they kiss. the mess getting everywhere. harvey brushes it out of scott's hair.
(an idea, half-jokingly,
in those days, san francisco was the place where everyone wanted to go.  to drop out.  to fall in love.
but by 1972, the haight was boarded up. crime-filled. drug-filled. the new place for us refugees was this run down irish catholic neighborhood in eureka valley. six blocks square.  the castro.
well, i hope you did something useful with it.
don't move. harvey straddles scott. he begins snapping photos of him.
i was thinking we could open a shop together.
one with very little overhead. not too much work.  a little one, just like morris and minnie milk of woodmere, new york.
just a little to the left.  the old liquor store owner from earlier, mcconnelly, crosses the street to watch. harvey gives him a warm welcome:
hello there. i'm harvey milk.
yes. welcome to castro camera.
i want to join the, um.  what is it? the eureka valley merchant's association. i want to help in any way possible. i'm no interloper. a jew perhaps, but i hope you'll forgive that. mcconnelly looks from harvey to scott in the window.
what "kind" do you mean, sir?
thanks for the warm welcome to the neighborhood!
we'll form our own business association! start with the gay- owned businesses.  we'll take down the addresses of every customer that comes in for a roll of film. we'll ask them what they want to see done here.  what they want changed.  we'll get money rolling into this neighborhood. revitalize it.
one more minute! i'll go to the neighborhood banks. they must have some gay customers.
i'm a businessman, scott. i think businesses ought to treat their customers right. even their gay customers. for god's sake, this is san francisco!
we should have at least one block in one city right? start there and take over the neighborhood. okay, you can come in now! scott heads toward the kitchen. the table is laid out with a home-cooked meal, candles and a huge bouquet of flowers.
happy birthday! scott chases harvey around the apartment, trying to smear some of the cream pie onto him.
thanks for joining the castro village association! harvey arrives at a long line of gay men winding out of the irish liquor store . he squeezes past them, into the store, leaving scott outside.
excuse me gentleman.  ladies. hello! mr. mcconnelly! mcconnelly, at the register, is overwhelmed with all the new business.
i just wanted to stop in and see how business was doing.
so you don't mind all these homosexuals in here, do you? mcconnelly grins, uncomfortable. the line of gay men is curious about the hubbub. point made, harvey does a 180.
no. no. just a joke. mr. mcconnelly here loves our kind. spend away! tell your wife hello for me. harvey spots scott in the crowd and pulls him toward him, kissing him on the mouth. it's quite the show. they step back out onto the street where an irish band is now playing. gay men watch. some clap. harvey grabs scott and spins him through a sharp waltz. off the pair at home in their new neighborhood.
and people started hanging around our store. not customers. activists, kids, folks who needed a home away from home.
there was danny niccoletta, a cute art student who i'd picked up at toad hall. turns out he was also good at running the camera shop.  something scott and i found we had surprising little interest in.  on danny niccoletta, young, waif-like, somewhat helpless.
what you're not getting is the spectacle of it, the bigger than life emotions.  danny jumps up and imitates the larger than life gestures of an opera diva, making harvey laugh.
jim rivaldo. a great mind. a great wit. a harvard graduate, which nobody cared about, in those days, in the castro.  including himself. jim rivaldo flops down into the vintage dental chair that sits in front of harvey's desk. he seems to be looking for something to occupy his keen mind. a sharply dressed young man, 20s, dick pabich, walks up to peek over his shoulder.
and somewhere along the line jim picked up a protege, a cute political kid from wisconsin.  dick pabich.  and of course there was dennis peron, who ran a very popular business with the new kids.  dennis peron hands scott a free joint.
and on occasion we actually had a real customer. but only occasionally. across the room, scott is waiting on a customer, he's out of place: straight, gruff, a union man, allan baird, 40s.
welcome. what can we do for you?
everyone, this is allan baird. he's a very big deal, so behave yourselves.
i do have friends in awfully low places, but just so you know, it's not official yet.
the mayor part. i've considered gathering an army of queers to march up to city hall and secede, but so far the young gays seem more interested in jeeps and jeans. but if i could be of any use, i'm all ears!
i'm just curious. are we your first stop or your last?
well, you seem to have noticed that my kind of people drink a lot of beer. if we're going to fast for your sake, i think we should get to deliver some of it when you win this fight, don't you?
and allies. i'll have coors out of every bar in the castro by the end of the week. deal?
no more coors beer. it's gotta come out of every bar. gay and straight.
nothing for me. that's a convert.
the cause.
i got "my people" to get coors out of all the gay bars. 30 million bottles worth in san francisco alone. coors beer immediately fell from number 1. they caved. one week later, union man allan baird hired the first ever openly gay union boys to drive teamsters trucks.  we weren't just a group of pansies anymore. we had a neighborhood. we had the unions. and for the first time, we had a little bit of power.
maybe that was the day someone first called me the "mayor" of castro street. or perhaps i invented it myself.
if we had someone in the government who saw things the way we see them, the way the black community has black leaders who look out for their interests--
politics is theater. it doesn't matter if you win. you make a statement. you say, "i'm here, pay attention to me."
coors looks like it might cave. the union boys will owe me. imagine if we get their vote.  it'll be fun!
we'll make it a spectacle.
a week ago, police officers came into our area with covered up badges and sent fourteen of our people to the hospitals, and to jail. the charges, "blocking a sidewalk." like a round girl at a boxing match, scott parades around a blown up photo from his shopping cart: two sf cops dragging
--let us have our tax money go for our protection and not our persecution. worry about gun control and not marijuana control.
school supplies, seniors, not what books i read-- scott displays an old "muscle boys" magazine. harvey does a well timed take. a few hoots from the eclectic crowd.
my fellow degenerates, i would like to announce my candidacy for san francisco city supervisor! scott unfurls three hand made "milk for city supervisor" banners that lap over the sides of the shopping cart.
public dental care for retired people.  legalize pot, vote milk. harvey is distracted. a young, long haired cleve jones passes. at 18, he looks 15. harvey tries for his attention:
hey, i like the way your pants fit.  where are you from, kid?
where's home?
i'm harvey milk. i'm running for supervisor. what's your name?
well mr. jones, we should walk up to my camera shop and register you.
is that right? do you trick up on polk street?
tell me one thing before you get back to work then. what was it like to be a little queer in phoenix?
sometimes. but what i'm saying is, phoenix can change. but we have to start with our street: rent control, police abuse, pot, parks, seniors.
you know what i think, cleve jones?
no. that you need to do what you're good at. be a prick. fight city hall. fight the cops. fight the people who made you come here to do what you do.
i didn't come out until very late in life. there was nobody to--
--look up to, no hope for a better life. those that did were outcast.  arrested.  suicide. and the young ones, who did escape home.  and who arrive in san francisco, and then what.
he used to come into my shop. are there any witnesses?
jerry wasn't a trick. they were lovers.
there'd be a dozen witnesses if they thought you boys had any real interest in keeping them safe.
why isn't my campaign manager leading the meeting?
in the bathhouse?
just checking the exposure. that a new boyfriend? he's very cute.
so who are these so-called "gay leaders?" and who appointed them? and what are you suggesting, jim, that i'm supposed to go and solicit their endorsement? past harvey we see a grandmotherly volunteer, thelma, opening the mail, casually reading a letter, then rising and approaching harvey.
we're down here, on the streets, trying to help people, so where they hell are they?
they probably wrote it. hey, if somebody tries to kill me, i'll get the sympathy vote, right? could be just the push we need.
it's a complete joke. no rhythm. no humor. it's insulting. close on the letter: someone has drawn a stick figure of harvey being tortured - bullets, knives, fire, etc. harvey makes a decision: he sticks the drawing to the refrigerator, the first thing he'll see in the morning.
if you put it away, hide it in a drawer, it'll just get bigger and scarier. now it's there. we'll see it every day. it can't get us.
i keep telling you, it's not just about winning.
the "top gays" in san francisco were david goodstein and his lawyer sidekick rick stokes. david was a
rich old queen who'd bought the biggest gay magazine, the advocate. he had it delivered to subscribers in brown paper bags so no-one would know.  that's how he lived his life, covered up, discreet. harvey and scott are shown to the pool area by a house boy. statues and potted plants and expensive marble. everything shouts "good taste!" scott strips off his clothes and dives into the pool.
endorsing straight candidates is what you think is best to help us?
but i am running for office. i'm on the ballot. i have the union rank and file, the seniors, and i could use your magazine's endorsement.
and why haven't you run?
the cops come into our neighborhood and beat us. they turn a blind eye if one of us is murdered.
there are no real gay allies. yes, our friends may sense our struggle, but they can't feel it. it's not life or death for them. we need our own in office.
why not? how can we ask them to respect us if we don't show ourselves some self respect, david.
go back into the closet? is that what you're saying? because i know the closet. i lived in it for more years than i care to remember. i don't need your endorsement. i'm not asking anyone for acceptance. i don't have time to ask.
i'm not a candidate, i'm part of a movement. the movement is the candidate. there's a difference. you don't see the difference. but i do.
when the vote came in on election day.  out of 32 candidates vying for 6 seats.  we came in 10th. just a handful short of being the first big eared, gay as a three- dollar-bill, cock sucker ever elected to public office.
so.  i went for it again in '75.  with just a few.  minor.  adjustments.
i'm not gonna let the pacific heights biddies write me off again because of a ponytail. i like it. scott is horrified. harvey pulls a pair of movie ticket stubs from its inner pocket.
cabaret? for two? lily, is this from one of my kind?
too bad. no more pot, no more bath houses for me and little poo.
we ran and we lost the supervisors race a second time in '75, but with
more votes than ever. so in 1976, against everyone's advice, i really pissed off the democratic political power houses, because i ran against "their boy"--
--art agnos, a part of their "political machine." and this time we weren't running for city supervisor. this time it was bigger, california state assembly.
it's a racket. it's 1976 and you still have to be straight, white, catholic and male to get into the san francisco police force. it's racist. homophobic.
you're right, art. and many are your closest friends. you see, i don't think state assembly seats should be awarded on the basis of service to the democrat machine. machines operate on oil and grease. they're dirty, dehumanizing, and too often unresponsive to any needs but those of the operator.
tell me mr. agnos.  right here in the castro, robert hillsbourough was murdered for walking home with his long time partner. stabbed,
fifteen times. the last words he heard were "faggot, faggot, faggot" and you say you're outraged, but why won't your liberal establishment return our calls? why won't they bring these murderers to justice?
my god, you're handsome up close. i can't tell you how much i'm looking forward to licking you.  in the polls.
if we lose this one, it'll be just me and you again. i promise. scott nods. that's exactly what he needed to hear.
phoenix? we should go inside. they do. harvey locks the door behind them.
the election's tomorrow. i won't sleep.  was he good looking?
hard to tell what's worse. with me, my boyfriends usually find better looking ones to cheat with.
guess what, cleve jones.
you're going to meet the most extraordinary men, the sexiest, brightest, funniest men, and you're going to fall in love with so many of them, and you won't know until
the end of your life who your greatest friends were or your greatest love was.
maybe a little. or not.
we could have a revolution here too. but you can't just use the castro to cruise. you gotta fight.
winning isn't my strong suit.
can you assemble a thousand people in an hour?
all right, if i run again, you're my man.
polls open in 3 hours. lets hit the bus stops.
and we lost that assembly race too, which made me a bona fide three- time, political loser.
i don't know if i have another one in me. or scott. but harvey's gaze deceives his words. hold on harvey - contemplating a fourth run for office.
scottie?
i'm sorry. i can't talk right--
no. you don't want to do that.
you saw me in a paper in minnesota? how'd i look?
there's nothing wrong with you. listen to me. you don't have to hurt yourself, okay? are you there? here's what you have to do. are you listening?
get on a bus. go to the next biggest city. new york, san francisco, la, or even minneapolis. it doesn't matter. just leave. you won't be alone. there are people out here just like you who will welcome you and love you.
you're not sick. you're not wrong. god does not hate you. just leave.
yes. you can. just get on a bus.
that's okay. it's going to be okay. over the phone, harvey hears the sound of an adult voice, someone finding the boy on the phone, then.  the line goes dead. it's all too much for harvey. there's nothing a speech or a pep talk can do to fix this. harvey is overwhelmed. dick comes upstairs.
give me permission to march them.
anywhere.
i know you are angry. i am angry. follow me through the streets of san francisco to share our anger! harvey jumps down and begins walking, not sure if the mob will follow. finally, they do. cleve catches up.
are they following in back?
i don't know. we have to keep them moving. exhaust them. march them till they drop. we can't have a riot tonight. harvey lifts the bullhorn. he starts a marching chant. the crowd starts following along. jump to: gays glare at cops. cops beat their nightsticks against their chests and power poles. anger burns as harvey marches the mob toward city hall. dick and jim catch up.
help me turn them up van ness. we'll go all the way to broadway.
my name is harvey milk.  and i want to recruit you. the crowd roars approval.
i am here tonight to say, we will no longer sit quietly in our closets. we must fight. not just in the castro, or san francisco, but everywhere the anitas go. anita bryant did not win tonight. anita bryant has brought us together.  she is going to create a national gay force! and the young people in richmond, minnesota, or jackson, mississippi, or woodmere, new york.  who are coming out and hearing anita bryant on television telling them that they're wrong, they're sick, that there is no place for them in this great country, in this world.  they're looking to us for something tonight.  and i say, we have to give them hope! the crowd goes wild. harvey's speech crosses the cut to.
--hope for a better world.  hope for a better tomorrow.  hope for a
better place to come to if the pressures at home are too great.
hope for the worker who awakens from the american dream to find that all the jobs have left the country.  we gotta give em' hope! pan faces of teamsters - several minority faces. close on
when san francisco changed the voting rules--
--they allowed people to elect supervisors directly from their own neighborhoods. a black neighborhood could elect an african- american. chinatown could elect a chinese supervisor.  and the castro could choose me or rick stokes. but decent art begs for balance, right? so little district 8, two miles south of the castro--
--promised to stay the same as ever. conservative, irish, catholic and with just the right touch of poetry, they found themselves a handsome ex-cop.
evelyn lear's in town, at the opera house in tannhauser.
what if she strolls into the castro for a cocktail? just one more. we can't let rick stokes take it.
if people are ever going to take me seriously, i have to win this one.
anita wants to put us all back in concentration camps. rick stokes is too weak to beat her back if she gets to california. i have to be in office to protect us from them.
if you leave me right now.  i can find someone new.
--ring out the old, ring in the new. this is over. done. i don't want to see anything that say's fucking assembly. this three-time loser faggot is running for supervisor goddamn it! anne kronenberg, 23, parks her motorcycle outside, walks into the camera shop, and plants herself behind harvey's desk. cleve, mike, jim and dick are staring at anne.
our new campaign manager. she called last week to volunteer and i asked her to help.
we need new blood.
guys.  anne kronenberg. she's a woman.  a woman who likes women. odd, isn't it?
try to find out when they're going to announce.
anne worked on a recycling campaign up north. she's very organized.
shouldn't you be doing someone's laundry?
gentleman, we already have a tinker bell, a lotus-blossom, jim and dick in your three-piece suits. we need someone to manage things. a woman this time. she's the right price, and she has bigger balls than any of you.
they've accused me of many things, but never as blatant a lie as this.
yeah? go show him.
cleve, maybe you should go find a boy to celebrate with. just in case.
thank you. where do you live?
and for the first time in my life, it all came together.  the union boys, the women, the seniors, the minorities.  all of the us's showed up.
it's too crowded. sorry! jack lira shoves his way toward the door.
scottie--? but scott fades into the crowd. harvey is pulled back into the party.
no, darling. we do this all the time. do you like it? jim is calling out names of the other winners.
what about dan white? did he win?
i have to be. that's what i was elected for. i have to be there to open up the dialogue for the sensitivities of all people, all their problems, the problems that effect this city effect all of us. thank you san francisco! thank you!
i, harvey milk, do solemnly swear that i will support and defend the constitution of the united states and the constitution of the state of california against all enemies, foreign and domestic; and that i will well and faithfully discharge the duties upon which i am about to enter and during such time as i hold the office of supervisor, city and county of san francisco. bulbs flash. a light rain begins to fall. umbrellas go up.
anita bryant said gay people brought the drought to california. looks to me like it's finally started raining! cheers. harvey is emboldened.
the name of the game on the board is six votes to get anything passed. so, like it or not, dan and i are now in bed together.  politically speaking. the camera reveals scott watching the program. he's been up all night.
how long were you a fireman, dan?
and before that.  you were a police officer? dan studies harvey suspiciously.  what's his point?
no. they tend to have something against me.
but firefighters. now those are true heroes.  they supported me in the last campaign. i support them fully.
i meant what i said. i'd like to work together. dan hesitantly accepts harvey's handshake. it's a step.
what do you think of my new theater?
what's with the suit?
when you come here, i want you to wear the tightest jeans possible. never blend in. and no elevators. ever. always take the stairs, you can make such a grand entrance going up the stairs.
and street talk only around feinstein. shit, goddamn, fuck,
all that. it bugs the hell out of her. they arrive at his lead aide's desk: it's anne kronenberg.
morning annie, let's set cleve up on mail.
come into my office.
the first order of business that will come out of this office is a city wide gay rights ordinance. just like the one anita shot down in dade county. what do you think, lotus blossom?
then make it brilliant. i want anita's attention here. in san francisco. i want her to bring her fight to us.  this bill needs a unanimous vote. we need headlines.
dan's fine. he's just uneducated. we can teach him. dan pops his head into harvey's office.
i'll be there.
hey. i'll let him christen me, if he'll vote for my gay rights ordinance. we need allies. we need everyone.
jack, i have to go. i have an invitation to a party tomorrow. lots of rich people, politicians. we could get all dressed up.  jack turns up the music, takes harvey's hands and guides him through a simple dance.
uh-huh.
you always see it coming?
if i make you a key, you won't break my windows again, right?
i'm proposing a citywide ordinance. it ensures that a person who already has a job can't be fired for their orientation.
is anyone else here from the board?
were you christened here?
you're more like one of us now.  an outsider.
do you know a lot of "homosexuals?"
well, i'd have to study it.
sure, sure. a campaign promise.
i'd like that, too, dan. mary ann white approaches with their child. it's awkward, as if she's walked in on something intimate.
the gay rights ordinance. my fault.
hey, don't knock it till you've tried it. his attempt to break the tension goes down in flames. she cracks a polite smile. they're from very different worlds.
i can't just dump dan. the guy's got nothing going for him. no friends.
lay off. he registered 120 voters last week.
he intrigues me.  i think he may be one of us. everyone groans. cleve camps it up:
it's just a theory.
no.  i know what it's like to live that life. that lie. you can see it in dan's eyes.  the fear, the pressure.  anne kronenberg walks in. she's got that look in her eyes. something's up.
good or bad?
how many signatures will he need to qualify for the ballot?
this means the fight's coming here, where we can do something about it! wichita's one thing, kansas city. but anita's heading for san francisco! she's not going to know what hit her. smile, children! this is the fight we've been waiting for.
look what happened in germany. now anita bryant already says that jews and muslims are going to hell, you know she's got a shopping list. we are not going to let john briggs or anita bryant legislate bigotry in this city.  hold on dan watching harvey on tv.
excuse me, david?
you're right, i know, i was late by twenty minutes. i'm sorry, jack.
i was at work. come out, sugar pea.
then go home, jack.
"proposition six is an affront to human rights. an invasion of the state into the private lives of california citizens." does it even say the word gay on this thing? anywhere?
people need to know who's affected. this flier needs at least one old queen on it. why don't you volunteer for that, david?
this is shit. shit and masturbation. it's a coward's response to a dangerous threat.
jack, it's time to go. get everyone together. i want young people, women, fresh heads. fighters and organizers, not politicians.
is anybody gonna pay the pizza guy, or are we just gonna stare? people start chipping in for the handsome pizza guy.
if we're gonna convince the 90% to give a shit about us 10%.  we have to let 'em know who we are. everybody's coming out. the entire state. no matter where they live.
i'm serious. we're going to tell everyone in the state to come out. every gay doctor, lawyer, teacher, dog catcher.  we have to leave the ghetto, let all those people out there know that they do know one of us. and if people won't step out of the closet, we open the door for them.
clearly, scott.
privacy's our enemy. you want real political power? let's tell the truth for a change. starting here. if there's anybody in this room, right now, who hasn't told their families, their friends, their employers.  do it. now.
people vote two to one for us if they know just one of us.
i thought you were done with politics.
the movement needs people to be up- front. why were you fighting me?
my parents are gone. my brother knows. i'm sure they knew.
if their families won't love them for who they are, who they really are, then they should lose them.
who's he? do you live together?
i miss you.
he needs me. scott nods. that's always been harvey's achilles heal. he walks away from harvey, leaving him alone.
--i want it noted that i never promised to back moving any mental health centers. i greatly respect supervisor white, but i would like his remarks stricken.
i didn't have all the details. i'll help you craft a different version that doesn't displace any kids.
i'm getting a lot of pressure, dan.
you only need one more vote, dan. there are 5 other supervisors you could convince besides me. dan grabs harvey. it's threatening. a new side of dan.
it'll still pass. you can't keep alienating yourself here, dan.
across the country, a handful of city councils had passed the very first ordinances protecting gay people against discrimination. but anita bryant and her right wing christian fundamentalists were creating and exploiting and fanning a backlash. now she had referenda to repeal all of these gay rights ordinances. while we were preparing for the battle against briggs and prop six, anita bryant was taking her show on the road.  sweeping the country. her next stop was wichita, kansas.
did jim call the press? get out there with your camera!
when i got coors out of the bars, the union gave me this. i want you to have it.
you're an activist. take it. march them. march those people up to the front doors of city hall. when it looks really bad, the city's first gay supervisor will come out and play peacemaker. we save the city from a riot. we can turn this night into more political power for the cause.
i won't always be here. somebody else will have to take over. i need you to be the scary one now.
hello. my name is harvey milk, and i want to recruit you. i want to recruit you for the fight to preserve our democracy against the anita bryants and john briggs who are trying to legalize bigotry! we have a choice to make. the fight is at our doors. we must either go back in the closet and shut it tight, or fight.  history shows
that if we continue to fight, we.  will.  win.
we're losing prop six by 60% and you're over there celebrating a riot. i need more visibility.  if we're going to beat this thing, we have to get briggs to acknowledge us. harvey steps away, hot, pensive. anne gets quiet.
we need something populist. what's the number one complaint about city life?
close.
i like it.
dog mess is a hazard, and on top of that, it's disgusting. under the ordinance, dog owners that don't clean up can be fined. this really is the bottom line! he smiles at his own joke, punctuating it by "accidentally" stepping in cleve's well-placed dog shit. a big grin. bulbs flash. these flashes transition into:
doggy-doo's a real problem, george. with a shit eating grin, harvey offers up a powder blue pen.
powder blue to sign they city's first gay rights law.  george, we need your help with briggs.  the gay community will have your back from now on. on all issues. i hope you'll have ours. a beat between them. an alliance is forming. the mayor sits behind his desk and turns to the press with harvey's pen.
what are you working on, dan?
listen, i know you're disappointed about the psychiatric center.  what else do you have coming up?
we prefer the word "gay," dan. just as i'm sure you prefer the word, "irish-american" to "mick."
we're not against those things.
no. but, we keep trying!
c'mon, dan. you're channeling anita and briggs.  we can work together. on something.
it's a bad time politically. i have an election next year.
what's wrong, taco bell?
i'll take it under consideration. why don't you get us a drink? a kiss and jack heads to the bar. scott approaches.
he's getting better. he's enrolling in classes on monday. scott wipes pie cream from harvey's jacket.
who invited you? anne?
congratulations. it was a tough ticket to get.
when i come home to jack, i don't have to talk politics or talk intelligently. or even talk.
no problem, dan. good to see you.
yeah.
thanks. but it's a real problem.
you didn't have to--
are you okay, dan?
i doubt that.
it's more than an issue, dan. dan. i've had four relationships in my life. three of those four tried to kill themselves. i know it was my fault they did it. i told them to stay quiet. to hide. most of my life i've been closeted. that's what living this life is like for most of us. the way things are.  this isn't just about our jobs, or any issue, it's our lives we're fighting for. jack emerges from the bathroom, barely together and leans on harvey. dan steps back from harvey and jack, his moment alone stolen away.
come out! just come on out! driving the car: anne keeps a close eye on the parade watchers. any one of them could be an assassin.
"you get the first bullet the minute you stand at the microphone." looks like the publicity's working.
it could happen any day, any night, any time.  the nation's eye is on us. i have to do this. jump to: pov shots of cops and loners amongst the massive audience hint at harvey's paranoia. like diving off a cliff, harvey launches up to the microphone. the deafening cheers surely would have drowned
my name is harvey milk, and i want to recruit you. i want to recruit you for the fight to preserve your democracy. brothers and sisters, you must come out. come out to your parents. i know that it is hard and will hurt them but think about how they will hurt you in the voting booth! come out to your friends, if they indeed are your friends. come out to your neighbors, to your fellow workers. once and for all, break down the myths, destroy the lies and distortions. for your sake. for their sake. for the sake of the youngsters who are becoming scared by the votes from dade to eugene. on the statue of liberty it says "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free." in the declaration of independence it is written "all men are created equal and are endowed with certain inalienable rights." for mr. briggs and mrs. bryant and all the bigots out there, no matter how hard you try, you cannot erase those words from the declaration of independence. no matter how hard you try, you cannot chip those words from off the base of the statue of liberty. that is what america is. love it or leave it. wild applause. he scans the crowd as he steps off stage. a bit surprised to still be alive. cleve grabs him.
get the press.
hi, i'm harvey milk. it's quite an honor to meet you, mr. briggs.
no sir. i would love to have a public debate. i'm very interested in the details of your argument.
yes sir, today they are. but with my city's mayor and the san francisco press as my witnesses, i'm challenging you to a public debate. john nods, stiff. he can no longer avoid harvey milk. he gets back in his limo.
senator, as a christian it's interesting that you don't seem to understand what christ was about. he was about accepting people and giving love, not carrying a bible in one hand and hatred in the other.  . now all the gay myths have been shattered, all the fears, all the--
that's it. in your mind they haven't, and i'm wondering why--
and your law goes even further. any school employee who even supports a gay person will be fired--
how do you teach homosexuality? like french? i was born of heterosexual parents, i was taught by heterosexual teachers in a fiercely heterosexual society. so then why am i homosexual? and no offense meant, but if it were true that children mimicked their
teachers, you'd sure have a helluva lot more nuns running around. the audience eats it up. it feel like "the harvey milk show."
we were really genuinely frightened by proposition six, and with the backlash gaining strength, we were very pessimistic. we didn't think there was any chance we could beat it. what we hoped to do was to organize to the point that when we did lose, there would be a revolt.  that all hell would break lose.
we're still losing, 60 to 30. we have to take the show on the road. call briggs's office. do a press release. tell them he can pick the town, the audience, and i'll ask our supporters not to attend.
get me orange county.
i don't have time to do game shows right now.  this stops jack cold.
are you drunk right now?
jack, i'll have more time soon.
that's not true. i think you're smart. you're capable. no matter what your family or your father said. i believe in you.  we should figure out something for you to do. i could get you a job.
i'll get a broom. harvey goes. jack collapses into a chair.
if in your statements here you say that child molestation is not an issue, why do you put out literature that hammers it home, why do you play on that myth and fear?
but you've even admitted that there's more molestation in the heterosexual group! so why not get rid of the heterosexual teachers? boos from the conservative audience.
--no child molestation.  so you're saying the percentage of population is equal to the percentage of child molestation?
that's what you just said.
--sir, in your own drive for personal power, how many careers are you willing to see destroyed? how many lives will you destroy in your lust for power, and when will you stop? the crowd boos, rails. this isn't san francisco, it's orange county. in the audience, dick pabich sweats, taken aback by the level of hatred. harvey tries to maintain his composure.
hey jack, what's wrong?
you just had them pull me out of my big vote on the dog shit ordinance. did you do this on purpose, jack?
yes, but.  i don't know when i'll be home. maybe 6. 6:15.
dan? how's the baby?
i heard you planned to vote against them too, dan. were you trying to set me up?
dan, there's a vote to approve the police desegregation settlement, give me that and i'll consider backing pay raises.
black skin and white in your police department? dan, even ronald reagan's come out against proposition six. you're looking more and more out of touch.
and the potential witch hunts against you "straight people," right? dan tries hard to come up with a cogent response. he can't. his behavior is alarming. he sets down his briefcase.
i don't know what you mean. a moment. dan is on the verge of tears, hot angry tears.
what is it, dan? you can tell me.
sir, blind people can't see "shit." what the heck do you have against blind people? the young folks surrounding the passerby laugh and hoot at harvey's joke. even the harassing passerby can't help but crack a grin. harvey beams.
jack was gone. i didn't have time to mourn.  there was no choice but to keep on.  to keep fighting.
thank you for this great honor. but do you think once the magazine is done snapping pictures, maybe i could keep the suit for a while?
would you like to trade with me?
oh, me? i'm an elected official. i run this city.
of course not. how not good?
dear god, little lotus blossom. harvey is stunned. other districts follow with similar results. they go up in red on the map.
put it up on the board. harvey tries to stomach this major defeat, loss after loss. he starts reflexively tying his tie in a knot. cleve comes up to harvey, concerned.
the whole world is watching this. this is san francisco we're about to lose. are you ready?
there goddamn better be.
i can't say it because i'm a public official, but for god's sake, if this thing passes, fight back. cleve is stunned, holding the weight of harvey's words. harvey's focus is interrupted when anne brings him the phone.
paul who?
i thought you were a goner, paul.
who did you know in los angeles?
no. you did this all by yourself.
then you have to see san francisco!
i gotta go, don. thank you. la by 65% put it up! put it up! the tone in the room is changing. jim storms up.
well crap cleve, now what are we going to do tonight?! cover up lady liberty. the cameras will be coming our way.
to the gay community all over this state.  my message to you is.  so far a lot of people joined us and rejected proposition six, and now we owe them something.  we must destroy the myths once and for all, shatter them. we must continue to speak out.  and most importantly, most importantly, every gay person must come out.
you ever heard of sore losers? well, i'm a sore winner.  i thought we were goners.
i think maybe we're best with our backs to the wall. it's too quiet. i think we should march on washington d.c. next year.
the people voted for us, cleve jones.
morning, dan.
i'm sure we could work together-- dan walks away from harvey. he doesn't want to hear anything harvey has to say. harvey watches as dan is met in the hallway by an officer from the police officers association.
he gets dragged into a closed door meeting with the police officers association, and comes out demanding his job back? what do you think they promised him? or worse, how did they threaten him?
how many of our propositions has dan shut down? we could finally settle this police desegregation nonsense. cement rent control. it's his vote on this board that stands in our way.
let me just remind you that you're up for re-election. if you re- appoint dan, you lose the gay vote. they listen to me. you won't get elected dog catcher.
a "homosexual" with a bit of power.  rather scary isn't it, mr. mayor? off harvey. he's come a long way.
sorry to wake you up.
i went to the opera tonight. guess who my date was.
bidu sayao herself. she was in the first puccini i ever saw. the crowd went wild. it was like i was young again, seeing my first live opera.
really? scott gets out of bed, considers his words. it's intimate.
i'd like that. harvey is quiet, a rare moment of reflection. an unexpected tear rolls down his cheek.
look out the window, the sun's coming up.
i don't want to miss it.
this. harvey's single word answer means, "life." off harvey: neither wants to hang up the phone.
who's it gonna be? is he replacing dan with that god damned liberal lefty don horanzy? that'll really shake up the board, huh?
heaven forbid, dianne.
this time next year we're marching on washington d.c. it'll look like market and castro, but with a million people. write that down. tell president carter we're coming after him next. i'm going to deposit this. i'll be back in 20 minutes. dan arrives at harvey's office door. harvey is with a friend, preparing to leave, surprised to see dan in his doorway.
sure. dan walks harvey down the hall to his old office.
oh no.  n-- dan fires again, silencing harvey's cry for help.
last week i got a phone call--
i ask this.  if there should be an assassination, i would hope that five, ten, one hundred, a thousand would rise. i would like to see every gay lawyer, every gay architect come out--
--if a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.  and that's all. i ask for the movement to continue. because it's not about personal gain, not about ego, not about power.  it's about the "us's" out there. not only gays, but the blacks, the asians, the disabled, the seniors, the us's. without hope, the us's give up-- as the thousands of mourners arrive at city hall, they place their candles around the statue of lincoln.
--i know you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. so you, and you, and you.
you gotta give em' hope.  you gotta give em' hope. harvey closes his note pad, puts down his pencil, and pushes stop on his recorder.