"Call Me By Your Name" and What the Hell is Going On with Me?

Attention: Contains spoilers.

This film preoccupies my mind more than it should.  Actually, that’s a tremendous understatement, the truth is I’m obsessed with it - I’m spectacularly lost!  I can’t remember how many times I’ve watched it over the last 4 months and when I’m watching it, it’s truly like I’m there, living it.  When I’m not watching, I just want to go back to it as soon as I can, and until I can return I live in it in my daydreams - rent free.  I’ve recently discovered that I’m far from alone in my reaction to CMBYN and this is a comfort because, yes, I’ve been wondering if this was my midlife crisis.  A better explanation might be that it’s a coping mechanism for me right now.  Of course, it might be neither of these reasons.  It could be that, as far as I’m concerned, I’ve stumbled across The Perfect Film (cue chorus of angels).  Writing this is to do with catharsis and trying to work out the reasons why I CANNOT stop watching this film.  The following is how it happened. 

In the surreal time between the recent death of my mother and the day of her funeral, when it was hard enough to keep breathing, let alone get out of bed and function in a normal way, I sought distraction and escape from the numbing loss in the only thing I thought might help me: film.  On this occasion there had been none of the usual trawling through the ocean of available movie titles. I closed the shutters, got under a throw and flicked on the telly. I cast out an imaginary fishing line and promptly netted ‘Call Me By Your Name’.  There was no rhyme or reason for this choice, I just saw the title, pressed play, and jumped in. 

A few moments later I was transported to a familiar continental setting backed with the sound of crickets and birdsong.  This, and the mixture of languages spoken, recalled my childhood holidays and roused memories of summers in the Spanish countryside, and of course forced to mind the memory of my departed parents. I now realise that what makes becoming an orphan even more painful is that when you lose your remaining parent you not only mourn them, you also mourn the loss of the first parent all over again.  You double down on your mourning - it’s obscene.

  

The protagonists are introduced to each other: “Elio, Oliver. Oliver, Elio.”  Elio is a brooding teenager. Oliver is older and an adonis.  The film is told from Elio’s perspective, and as with every good film, CMBYN draws you in in a way that means more than just being a voyeur.  If the film is particularly good you mentally take on the mantel of one of the main characters and you live the film through that person. I am Elio.   

Oh the sights and sounds of CMBYN! Everything I loved and remembered about the heady summertime days of my teenage years were playing out in front of me - the al fresco eating; the clatter and chatter of putting the world to rights at the dining table; being thrown together with strangers which at first is uncomfortable, but then things change; the bewildering feelings brought on by the first pangs of desire; the heat; coming to terms with your deep obsession; river and lake swimming; braving the dance floor and giving yourself up to music under the stars; dancing near, but not with them; the yearning of wanting something to happen but being afraid to show it for fear of rejection; being overly abrupt and awkward towards the one you long for, not wanting to be found out, yet equally wanting to be found out; the confusion; the utter resignation that you are lost to your obsession day after long summer day, and nobody else - however charming and attractive they may be - nobody, but the object of your fantasy can save you. 

The film’s theme is the trials and tribulations on the journey to a first love that is deeply reciprocated. I welcomed this gratefully, sweeping it up and wrapping it around me like a warm blanket.  The film is told from Elio’s perspective and you cannot help falling in love with him, even though he is petulant and obnoxious.  I related so wholeheartedly to Elio’s struggles, specially the words not spoken between him and Oliver. This is a language extraordinarily identifiable and familiar to me. As a lovelorn teen I was fluent in this dialect as well as English and Spanish.  There’s a pivotal moment in the film when Elio’s mum reads out the story of The Knight and The Princess from the Heptameron in which the Knight wonders, when it came to the love he felt for the Princess, is it “better to speak or to die?”. For some reason this hit me like a sledgehammer.  Back in the day I’d never spoken up - things just played out over time, or simply passed me by.  Now of course I didn’t have to think about it, of course it’s better to speak! Life is short! There is no time to waste! With death you realise this more acutely than at any other time. 

I watch as Elio takes the ‘speak or die’ mantra and acts upon it:

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

Oliver: “Why are you telling me this?”  

Elio: “Because I wanted you to know.” 

What unfurls is a tender and beautiful thing with not a cliché in sight. For both characters, its about struggling with first time situations and feelings and is relatable to anyone who has ever been in love or who wants to find love, and anyone who can remember what it is like to be besotted.  The film gets it right: it feels messy and real. I’m sure many can relate to Elio’s experience of when finally, perhaps to his disbelief, what he has desired for so long finally happens, he wakes the next day and the joy he thought would last forever has suddenly dissipated to be replaced by confusion once more.  Why?  

Author André Aciman and film director Luca Guadagnino have created a relatable world that has tapped into a universal commonality.  Nothing is more relatable than love, nothing is more heartbreaking than unrequited love, and I think this accounts for the vast fan base that exists for this story world-wide.  This love story picks you up, carries you along, delights you, then chews you up and spits you out.  You are left churned up with emotion, and yet, at the same time you know that what you have witnessed is something beautiful that will stay with you forever. 

I applaud the creators but especially Luca Guadagnino for crafting the telling of this story so perfectly with a rare, subtle sensuality that rocks you to the core. He concentrates on the smallest things that other directors rarely do: a lingering closeup of a small caress to the hand, a toe tentatively reaching for the other’s toe - these details are so much better than a full-on banging coupling.

I’m constantly amazed that with every watch I pick up on something new and wonderful, maybe from the set up of the shot, or the dialogue or just from the wonderful performances. Of course I’m also in awe of the phenomenal actors. I love every churned up emotion that flickers and plays over Elio’s face - no words are needed - I could write a whole piece on Timothée Chalamet’s superlative ability.  Equally I’m in awe of the effective mask crafted by Armie Hammer’s Oliver which skilfully leaves us guessing as to his emotions.  For the majority of the film he is cold fire, and totally unreadable. I love the moment Oliver steps into the glacial water at the berm and gasps “Its freezing!”.  The shock of the cold rips away the façade he wears and his exclamation is in fact the first totally unguarded, honest thing that he’s said to Elio up until that point in the film. From then on, the mask begins to melt away, not without a struggle, but ultimately completely and beautifully. You have waited to read this feelings for so long, that when we are at last allowed to see them, they are beautifully and skilfully presented.  Again I say bravo. 

I have to mention the stunning monologue given by Michael Stuhlbarg who delivers astounding words that we should all live by.  They are so heartfelt and wonderful that you hold your breath whilst listening to them.  At this moment in time, he spoke the words I needed to hear, but I will not sully them by repeating them now. Suffice to say I realised I was quietly sobbing by the end of it. André Acimen's and James Ivory's words, with Michael Stuhlbarg's marvellous delivery affected me incredibly deeply, they woke me from my numbed stupor and made me feel again.  This film has changed me forever, for the better. 

Another theme of the story, and this includes the original book and the so-called sequel "Find Me" (which is actually more of a postscript) is to do with loss, revisiting the past, and recalling those you love.  This is all something that again is poignantly relatable to me at this moment in time.  Is this is a trigger for my obsession?  Again no,  I think it is sheer coincidence that I’ve discovered a film that moves me immensely at a time when my emotions are already raw.  Aciman makes a huge deal of time and ageing and dwelling on the past.  In Find Me he talks about Elio and Sami’s ‘vigils’ - the visiting of sites which reminded Elio of Oliver, his first, deepest and lost love.  After my mum’s passing I felt a need to go back to my childhood home, and so I dropped everything and did just that. I hadn’t been back in years, but the pull was strong, exactly like some ritualistic pilgrimage, I needed to be close to the past and what had once taken place with the people I loved.  This made me totally understand the vigils Elio undertakes. I’m coming up to a ritual of my own in a few weeks time - seeing the magnolia tree outside Kenwood House in full bloom.  This will from now on be my vigil in memory of my parents.  

I think I’ve said enough.  I think this is the messiest piece of writing I’ve ever posted.  But 

I wanted the process of writing it to be cathartic, and it has been.  This has taken me ages to put down and has gone through many, many changes and forms, but I’ve worked it out now.  It’s quite simple: I’m sad and somehow ‘Call Me By Your Name’ has given me another focus and helped me through the worst of times.  It has indeed been a coping mechanism, which I feel I won’t need forever.  I will never get over my loss, but it will get better.  I will continue to watch CMBYN until I don’t need to anymore.  However, for reasons of the sheer joy that it gives me, I don’t think that will be any time soon. I’m so grateful for this film and its makers, and I confess, like Elio, I’m in love. I’m in love with the perfect film. 

   20 March 2020. Picture of my 'vigil'.  

Although I have never been to Crema, today in the midst of the madness and death going on in the world, my heart is there and other hotspots around the globe.