“I may have come close, but I never had what you two have. “
Somewhere in the sun-drenched fields of Northern Italy, a pair of young men is discovering a deep love that will affect them in ways they don’t quite understand just yet. It is the summer of 1983, and their passion is magnified by the intoxicating atmosphere of their environment, desperately hoping each fleeting moment can last forever. Such is the subtle conflict at the heart of Call Me by Your Name, written by James Ivory as adapted from the novel of the same name by André Aciman. The film is director Luca Guadagnino’s (A Bigger Splash, I Am Love) latest mood piece about sumptuous affairs set against the beautiful backdrop of Italy. Armie Hammer plays Oliver, a 24-year-old American grad student who comes to Italy to assist Mr. Perlman (Michael Stuhlbarg), a professor of archaeology. Timothée Chalamet is Elio, Mr. Perlman’s 17-year-old son with a passion for books and classical music. On the surface, there is little in common between Oliver and Elio, the former a strapping jock-type who thrives with others, the latter content with fastidiously attending to his artistic endeavors. But the long summer days draw them closer together and awaken in them a romance that would change their lives for good.
Call Me by Your Name is dripping with sexuality, the dog days of summer forcing its characters to go without shirts and luxuriate in the rays of the sun. Much of the pull between Elio and Oliver comes from pure lust, from lounging around swimming holes to biking down cobblestone streets surrounded by beautiful architecture. This is an idyllic world, and Guadagnino transports the audience into this enchanting Italian paradise from the start. Much of the film is simply spent with Elio and Oliver experiencing this relaxed lifestyle together, without running into any explicit conflicts. While the first half of the film does not have much by way of a clear plot, it is the lust gradually building to the surface between Elio and Oliver that makes their eventual consummation so satisfying. And their relationship unfolds very naturally over the course of this first half. An elaborate push and pull unfolds, in which both Elio and Oliver test the waters with a stray comment here or there. After all, Europe may be a more evolved place but not necessarily as open to same-sex relationships in 1983. There is a constant gauging of the other’s consent throughout the film, subtly displaying their deepening consideration for each other’s feelings, Oliver asking Elio, “Can I kiss you?” and Elio whispering, “Yes, please.” It is sadly rare to see such a thing onscreen in romantic movies, and it is unexpectedly relevant considering the sexual abuse revelations in Hollywood right now. Seeing two people fall in love with each other on the big screen, entering into a romantic contract where both partners agree to the terms, is a powerful thing to witness and it just make their romance more real.
Those subtle exchanges between Elio and Oliver wouldn’t be as strong without captivating performances behind them. Hammer brings more than just his Adonis good looks, giving Oliver a warm goofiness that makes him so infectious, from his spirited dancing to his signature, “Later.” But it is Chalamet who delivers a career-defining performance as Elio. We see the movie from his perspective, as a kid who has his particular interests but appears bored by the tranquility of his surroundings. Chalamet informs this desire to express himself outwardly by using his entire body. Elio is someone trapped in his own head, which is swimming with knowledge on fine art and culture, but as he admits himself, not about “the things that matter.” Oliver awakens in Elio those “things that matter,” and his body responds almost uncontrollably to the thrill of one of life’s great joys. We see that during a restless night with Elio alone in his bed, or an encounter with Oliver shorts, or the first time they are truly intimate with each other. His limbs seemingly react independently of his own conscious thoughts. Portraying an older teenager has always been a tricky road for filmmakers and actors, but Chalamet has such a keen awareness of that time period of approaching adulthood while still being overwhelmed by teenage giddiness, hormones racing through his body. It is such a kinetic, deeply felt performance that continues to add layers all the way through the devastating final scene, where Elio has emerged a changed man, no longer an uncertain boy inexperienced with the world.
The film is peppered with great performances in smaller parts, most notably Stuhlbarg, who pops up throughout the film but delivers one of the year’s most extraordinary scenes in the final 10 minutes. It is the kind of scene that will resonate strongest with queer kids fearful of having “the talk” with their parents, while also resonating with parents who love their children unconditionally. Esther Garrel plays Elio’s on and off girlfriend Marzia, a role that could have been thankless but is given such life thanks to Garrel’s organic performance. Every local gives the film a distinctive flavor, of warm acceptance that is not taken for granted by its main characters. There is so much thought put into making this film an enrapturing piece of art, and the best films are the ones that make that work feel effortless, as this one does. From the gorgeous cinematography by Sayombhu Mukdeeprom to the delicate original music by Sufjan Stevens, Call Me by Your Name is truly a sensory experience, one that you feel in your bones long after it’s over thanks to its intricate beauty both at and below the surface.
Over the past decade or so we’ve seen a handful of films with gay themes that have resonated in the mainstream. In particular, Brokeback Mountain (2005), Carol (2015) and Moonlight (2016) have all become defining films treasured by LGBT moviegoers and allies alike. There are elements of all three films in Call Me by Your Name, from the temporary bouts of passion in Brokeback to the shifting power dynamics in Carol to the momentous talk between a boy and a father figure in Moonlight. But what separates Call Me by Your Name from those films is in how homophobia is not its central conflict. There are slight hints here and there, but the film is not about having to hide your identity in an uncaring world. Perhaps it helps that the film is set in Italy while the others are set in America, where even in the present day it can be a struggle to be openly queer, but it is downright refreshing to watch a gay relationship blossom onscreen without the shadow of society wagging its finger. In many ways, Call Me by Your Name is about the thrill of living out loud without fear of repercussions, and perhaps this is why the film will be more enjoyable on the rewatch than Brokeback Mountain or Carol or Moonlight, however much I may love all of them. It is a movie rich with layers, that explores not just queer romance but romance itself on a mature level, with a central pairing worthy of being compared to Carol Aird and Therese Belivet, and Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist. This is pure, soulful filmmaking on an expert level, the kind of filmmaking that you don’t expect to grab you until those final haunting notes of “Visions of Gideon” featured in the end credits make you not just reflect on the profundity of the story you’ve just experienced but also on that one person who etched their name into your heart in your own life, the one with whom you remember everything.
★★★★★
FOR YOUR AWARDS CONSIDERATION:
Best Picture
Best Director — Luca Guadagnino
Best Actor — Timothée Chalamet
Best Supporting Actor — Armie Hammer
Best Supporting Actor — Michael Stuhlbarg
Best Adapted Screenplay — James Ivory
Best Cinematography
Best Film Editing
Best Original Song — “Mystery of Love”
Best Original Song — “Visions of Gideon”