Call Me By Your Name

We went to see Call Me By Your Name, Sam, David and I. The cinema was full of Millennials, groups of girls and straight Millennial couples, nary a gay boy was in sight, which we thought was kind of odd for a gay film, still, I guess that is the consequence of going mainstream. The cinema was full too, as it was cheap arse Monday, not that the cinema being filled to capacity made any difference to my cinema experience.

I was completely captivated by Timothée Chalamet. In some ways, he reminded me of myself at his age, except without the confidence, or quite the charisma. I think what I mean, is that I looked a little like him and I had hair like his.

I wasn't so keen on Armie Hammer at the beginning, oh, I wasn't so keen on him much at all, but I guess he grew on me, or I got used to him, or something, but in the end, he was satisfactory. Still, I think the film would have been better with a different actor playing his part.

I loved the time in which it was set. I loved the old Fiats. One of the Fiats, I remember, had the BG prefix on the number plate, which is from Bergamo in the Lombardia region. Of course, that is no guarantee of anything, but I just like that kind of stuff.

The house was gorgeous, and it reminded me of the houses I have visited in Europe. It reminded me of travelling through Italy a little later than that time, at around the same age, when I discovered the beauty of Italy and Italians, even if I didn’t discover love like they did.

I liked the story, it was a nice, sweet love story. A friend today asked me if it was about love, or was it about lust? He thought it was about lust. I thought it was about both, love primarily, as the two aren’t mutually exclusive after all, quite the contrary.

The only bit I found less than convincing was, what I would call, the pivotal moment, but that may have been my fault. What I remember off the top of my head,

They’d gone for a bike ride, they’d come to a statue, Elio told Oliver that it represented some specific battle from world war one.

Oliver asks Elio if he knew everything.

Elio leans on the railing around the statue, or some such thing, and says something like he wanted to tell Oliver. He wanted Oliver to know. Elio repeats that he wanted Oliver to know. And then Oliver is telling Elio they should never speak of such things.

I turned to David and said, “Did I just blink and miss something?”

“It was very subtle,” David replied.

And I was left feeling less that satisfactory about that whole scene.

I have to be honest, right at that pivotal moment, there were two Fiats parked in the carpark by the statue, one of which, the most prominent brown one, I was sure was newer than 1983 when the movie was set, and I was distracted by it. It was a 1990s Fiat, I rather thought.

I was distracted, and it was my fault. Moral of the story, be careful not to get distracted by minor details at major plot points, although, how ones knows that, other than in retrospect, is tricky.

I googled the scene, and this is the conversation I missed. And it is kind of the key piece of conversation. (Should there be a spoiler alert here? No, I don’t think I am really giving anything away)
“I know nothing, Oliver.”

“You seem to know more than anyone else around here.”

“If you only knew the little I know about the things that matter.”

“What things that matter?”

“You know what things.”

“Why are you telling me this,” asks Oliver.

“Because thought you should know?”

“Because you thought I should know?”


I googled the Fiat, and while it was produced in the 1990s, that particular model was first released in 1983, so in that scene it was brand new.


I liked the movie. It was a sweet love story set in a beautiful house in a beautiful part of Italy, what was there not to like?

The lights came up as the credits rolled and the Millennials were saying like this and like that and rolling their eyes when I hadn’t immediately moved my feet out of the way so that could move their princess selves passed me and to the exit.

I turned to David. “I hated it.”

I turned to Sam. “It was so boring, I was wondering when it was ever going to finish.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said to Sam.

I turned to David. “You can’t be serious?”

“Two and a half hours I will never get back,” says David.

“It was a piece of shit,” says Sam.

“What?” I stuttered as I looked from one to the other. “I liked it. I don't think it was the best gay love story ever filmed, as one review I read claimed, but it was sweet...”

“Oh please,” says David.

“You can’t be serious,” says Sam.