Warning: Spoilers for the book and movie below.
“Call Me By Your Name” (2017), already a critically acclaimed film directed by Luca Guadagnino, is based off André Aciman’s book of the same title (2007). Set in Italy, the story explores the burgeoning romance between a teenager named Elio (played by Timothée Chalamet) and an American scholar Oliver (played by Armie Hammer), who stays with Elio’s family for the summer. Since learning about the plot summary prior to the film, I was highly excited to watch it. In my opinion, there seems to be a lack of queer media in the mainstream that is not just presented as a “coming out” story (not that there’s anything wrong with that narrative, but at this point, it’s nice to see further explorations of queer characters and romances). Described as a coming-of-age romantic drama, the film was extremely well advertised prior to its release, garnering attention to not only the film but also the book it was based on.
One major difference between the film and the book is the way the story is narrated. The film presents itself as more of a clear-cut love story narrative by following a linear timeline, whereas the book is narrated by a much older Elio, who uses a comparative timeline to recall the events of his youth and his following interactions with Oliver. The book reads like a bildungsroman, with the story of intense first love being pivotal to Elio’s lifelong development. Presented as a first-person introspective, readers quickly learn that the only thing consistent about the adolescent Elio is his inconsistency. This is not a criticism on the character; rather, because of this, readers experience a raw, truthful portrayal of teenagehood. Through Elio’s narration we are taken through the agonies of mental growth, the questioning of sexuality, and endless indecisiveness. The film stays faithful to this structure by primarily focusing on Elio’s point of view.
The only thing consistent about the adolescent Elio is his inconsistency.
What I loved about both the film and the book was the way sexuality and relationships were portrayed. Often, we are used to watching mainstream love stories with the Hollywood lens of seamlessly sultry, glamourized, sexy romances. This film certainly did not adhere to this unrealistic lens. While the chemistry between the two characters is, albeit, unquestionable (largely owed to the beautiful acting of Armie and Timothée), it is equally united with awkwardness, embarrassment, frustration, and vulnerability. All these less-than-perfect interactions portray the romance in an intrinsically human way, a theme that is central to the book. Something as unabashed as Book Elio’s obsession with Book Oliver’s swimming trunks becomes a subtler point of reference in the film. The famously explicit peach scene, though a little more subdued onscreen, makes viewers and readers uncomfortable, and yet Guadagnino did not shy away from including this essential scene. The concept of calling each other by their own name is a deeply profound and intimate one: not only is this an expression of wanting to be with each other physically, but a way of feeling so intertwined with the other that they become interchangeable. Seeing each other in every human way possible, whether in an erotic way or not, is part of this process, which is why the peach scene is such an imperative moment for them.
Another major aspect of the book that the film succeeds in is the agonizing back and forth between the two main characters. The time that Oliver and Elio spend pining, putting up fronts, ignoring each other, taking action, ignoring again, and so forth, is painstaking. After all it is time, or the lack thereof, that is Elio and Oliver’s chief enemy. While Elio’s own parents (most notably, his father) are accepting of the relationship between the two, Oliver tells Elio that his own father would likely have “carted [him] off to a correctional facility”. Film and book alike, there are always imminent reminders that societal expectations and norms permeate deeply into one’s own thought process. Initially Oliver tells Elio, “Neither of us has done anything to feel ashamed of,”[i] after their first kiss. Most prominently, Elio briefly feels shame and regret after he and Oliver sleep together for the first time, before once again realizing that his affections for Oliver are real. In the society that Elio and Oliver are living in (and the society we unfortunately still know all too well), their relationship would not be openly accepted, and this is a factor that constantly looms over both of them.
In the society Elio and Oliver are living in, their relationship would not be openly accepted, and this is a factor that constantly looms over both of them.
The film ends soon after Oliver’s departure back to America. Oliver calls months later, during Hanukkah, to let the family know that he is getting married to a woman. In perhaps the most heart-wrenching scene of the whole film, Elio bites back his tears and congratulates Oliver over the phone. Finally, he calls him by his own name – “Elio, Elio, Elio. . .”— one last time. There is a long pause, and Oliver eventually replies, “Oliver…I remember everything.” In the final scene, Elio stares into the fireplace and silent tears begin to stream down his face as Sufjan Stevens’ evocative “Visions of Gideon” plays. Life resumes around him as Elio realizes the hit of his loss, one that translates tenderly, artfully, and viscerally, to the audience. In the book, Elio and Oliver meet a few times respectively over the years, but never quite in a romantic context. Oliver is married with kids, with a career as a professor. Elio has done well for himself too, but makes it clear that the romances he’s had after Oliver are forgettable. Though Oliver has been able to adapt to the nuclear family lifestyle where Elio has not, Oliver divulges fifteen years later that he has followed Elio’s career throughout the years.
This entire scene, placed within the last twenty pages of the book, reveals that Oliver cherishes the relationship just as much as Elio does. He likens seeing Elio again to “waking from a coma”, and feels he lives a “parallel life” now, both incredibly moving commentaries on the profundity of their bond. He keeps the framed postcard of Monet’s berm (their secluded, picturesque spot in Italy) that used to belong to Elio, in his office. Oliver’s actions demonstrate that sometimes love goes beyond being in the physical presence of a person. While it seems cruel to know that Oliver and Elio cannot be together, the story is a truly poignant representation of the way love in its truest form can affect us. We recall the sentimental and stunningly gentle speech that Elio’s father gives him after Oliver’s departure, reminding Elio: “If there is pain, nurse it, and if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out, don’t be brutal with it. . . . remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once.”[ii]
The book ends twenty years after their romance. Oliver is in Italy for one day, with Elio once again. Elio’s father has passed away, and the two reflect on past memories, unspoken emotions hanging thick in the midst. We know that it’s unlikely for the romance to rekindle, but take solace in the fact that they are back in the place where it all started, even if just for a fleeting moment. Both endings are incredibly bittersweet to endure, as in both contexts, the future is uncertain. All we can conclude is that Oliver and Elio’s brief romance has become a fundamentally important part of them, and regardless of the directions their lives go, it may well be the deepest form of love the other has experienced. Guadagnino did a masterful job adapting Aciman’s text into a film, ensuring that the essence of the book was translated onscreen despite the film’s various changes, ultimately creating a harmonious relationship between the two.
— “Perhaps, in the end, it is because of time we suffer.”[iii]
~ Z ~
[i] Aciman, André. Call Me by Your Name. Picador/Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007. (82)
[ii] Aciman (224)
[iii] Aciman (232)
