I have just now finished watching Milk.
I didn't cry (no matter how much I want it from time to time, or how much I need it in equal frequency, or how much I force myself to do so, so I can prove that I do have an observable sensitive side, truth remains that I'm a rare crier).
I wasn't blown away by the acting, or the direction, the cinematography, and certainly not the script, despite all those critics saying otherwise.
I didn't even fall in the trap of believing that had this film had been released before prop 8 in California, it would have made a difference.
But,
I admired the difference a person can make, even through the grossly unrealistic and highly biased lens (yes, I can give you that much, bigots) that the film employed. For it was exactly a difference one can make, and not be born with. And, yes, it's not that I wasn't aware of this difference, but every now and then, it's nice to be reminded.
For this, and countless other insignificant reasons, I'd like then to thanks you personally:
Gus and Dustin,
Harris and Sean,
James and Josh,
Alison and Emile (amongst the many).
Good job.
ps. note to self. I won't do losing, ever.