January 23, 2017, a casual visit to the website, The Daily Beast and a dispatch from the Sundance Film Festival which I was only marginally aware was even underway. Writer Kevin Fallon gives us this article:

‘Call Me by Your Name’: The Sexy, Poignant Gay Love Story Turning All of Sundance On

I notice Armie Hammer first, the actor I remembered from The Social Network and pretty much nothing else (although I knew he was a minor celebrity). We get two pictures to go with the article.



I read the article, curious about the book and the French actor playing Elio, thinking he’s some European kid (a la Adele Exarchopoulos). A quick visit to IMDb and, holy shit, he’s the kid from Homeland, the smug son of the Vice President who gets blown up in Season 2.

I look further, who is Timothee Chalamet? He was the son in Interstellar. Oh yeah, there was a son in Interstellar, I had forgotten.

Very interesting article and being a gay of a certain age, I was a little surprised I had not heard of the book. So, I download it from Amazon to my Kindle and start to read. At first, I’m not all that immersed, the opening feels like a lot of gay literature I’ve read in the past - a summer visitor, a crush, yada, yada, but then around fifteen pages in, I’m getting hooked.

Perhaps it started right then…

Andre Aciman, who is this guy? First novel, a professor. He teaches the history of literary theory and the works of Marcel Proust.

Wait…he’s straight!?!

That a straight man could reach deep into the mind and memory of a man who was emotionally shattered by his seventeenth summer, and a queer kid at that. I finished “If Not Later, When?” on the first night, knowing something must be coming. I woke up early the next morning. “Monet’s Berm”, interesting. I call in sick, I finish the book before noon. I am dumbstruck, overwhelmed by the prose and the pain and longing of Elio Perlman. I see myself in him, I see myself in Oliver, I yearn to hear the words that Professor Perlman gifts his only child. I think about my own journey from the closet in the early 90′s and the fear and self-loathing that had to be overcome. I contemplate my love life. Have I ever felt something as powerful as Elio? No, I cannot say I have.

Okay, now I’m invested.



Now I’m looking for everything I can find. Twitter comments, early reviews, release schedules. I breathlessly tell my co-workers about this movie that premiered at Sundance and the book that blew my mind (by this point I’m halfway through the novel a second time).

“Armie Hammer plays a gay guy?”



Yes, isn’t it exciting? The kid is supposed to be really good. He was on Homeland. He went to the Fame school in NYC. My IMDb search finds his 2016 movie Miss Stevens, I find it on Netflix. He’s brilliant, so real, so alive. His Death Of A Salesman monologue knocks me on my ass. I watch it again. And again.

We’re getting obsessed.

I look up the director, Luca Guadanigno. I think I’ve heard of him. Never seen his work. So I watch it. First up, I Am Love. Tilda Swinton, always a fan (especially in Michael Clayton). Its in Italian, subtitles, no problem. One of my all time favorite movies is The Best Of Youth, a six hour Italian family epic that I watch at least once a year (check it out, please). Gorgeous scenery, very sexy. Is this what Call Me By Your Name is going to look like? God, I hope so.

Next up, A Bigger Splash. Tilda again, wicked. A rock star. Of course! Ralph Fiennes and Matthias Schoenaerts naked. I’m all in. Dakota Johnson. Ok, fine. Great music, great ride, weird ending, but ok, its European. Is THIS what Call Me By Your Name is going to look like? Curiouser and curiouser.

By now I’ve read the book three times. I’m reading every review I can find of the novel on GoodReads, adding my own, noticing Andre Aciman has answered a few questions about the book in the comments, fascinating. I figure out where the book is set and spend a good afternoon on Google Earth following the twisting roads around Bordighera, Italy. Its near San Remo. I’ve heard of that place.

There’s no choice left. I must read this novel one more time in the town where it is set. I was born in the mid-1960′s, I have never been to Europe. I plan an itinerary and take the plunge. In early July, vado a Roma - Florence - San Remo - Bordighera - Cinque Terre - back to Rome. I will look for Monet’s Berm! I will get drunk and wander down Via di Santa Maria Dell’Anima where Elio and Oliver kiss for one of the last times. Really kiss.

In the meantime, I follow the trajectory of the film. It premieres at Berlinale (and strongly consider giving up on my Italy trip to go to Berlin instead). I become Twitter friends with a small group that is also eagerly following the film, anticipating its release. We finally learn its coming in…October!? So far away!

But wait, there’s a clip that’s been released! Its the scene where Oliver rubs Elio’s shoulder in front of all his friends and almost collapses from confusion and desire. Tennis in the book. Volleyball in the movie. That’s ok, I hear they changed the location anyway. Adaptations require compromise.

Fuck, does that kid look young. Hope it doesn’t become a thing. Oh well, it probably won’t. My desire to see this film is becoming almost unbearable and there’s nothing coming, no leaks, no hints, only the reviews from the few festivals it has shown at. I live in the world of the book. I go to Italy at the beginning of August.

Its my own personal Eat, Gay, Love. I see everything, I spare no expense when I eat, I rent an Alpha Romeo and drive 150 kmh on l’autostrada. Its wild. The bulk of my trip is spent in San Remo, a short bus ride to Bordighera. I wander the streets of Aciman’s favorite place in the world, loving the slow pace (its a Sunday) and the architecture and the food. I find the beach and despite a few raindrops, relax and read as much of the novel as I can. I look to the hills and wonder where Monet’s Berm might be (I never find it, sadly), which hillsides they whistled along on their bicycles. Where is “To die for”?

A few pics from B

Is this the movie theatre that Oliver indulged Professor Perlman in helping get Elio out of the villa instead of moping around.

The beach in Bordighera. Is this where Oliver and Elio jogged in the morning?

The train station in Bordighera. Is this where Oliver and Elio left from for their trip to Rome?

The vacation ends, a wonderful time. By this point, I had even been studying the Italian language for six months (I am still studying with great joy).

Life returns to normal. I continue looking for morsels. By now, we have the clip where Elio meets Oliver for the first time. We get a better look at Professor Perlman and his wife, Annella.

Good news, the movie is going to be at the Toronto International Film Festival. I work in the industry, I know this is maybe not the flashiest festival in the world, but it really is the most important. This is where Oscar season begins. Can’t wait to see how it is received.

Meanwhile, Timothee Chalamet puts out a cryptic tweet that sends Film Twitter into a frenzy. A few minutes later, we get this…

Holy shit. Its beautiful. There’s something loving and defiant in the pose. Aspirational. Nothing but blue sky. The sky is the limit. The world is ours. Within minutes, it becomes the wallpaper on thousands of mobile devices. God, I love the fandom, I don’t give a shit if I’m too old for it. This movie is going to really matter to me.

And then another milestone. We know its coming, August 1. Kyle Buchanan from Vulture is first up, “Oh boy, do we have a treat for you this morning!” Wow, look at this still at the top of the article.

The trailer. Ravel. Bicycles. Sufjan. Later. “Call me by your name and I’ll call you by mine…” It trends on Twitter. Unbelievable. The trailer is fucking gorgeous. The version on the Sony Pictures Classics YouTube page is now over 8 million views. Comments are gratefully disabled.

Fall arrives. People are starting to see the film. It premieres at TIFF. Armie is there, Luca is there. They’re signing autographs, talking to the media. Where is Timothee. Oh, he is coming. He has been waiting for this moment as much as we have. The writing is now on the wall. This movie is going to make him a star. He rises to the challenge.

We’ve already marveled at the purple Berluti jacket in Berlin, but you sensed he was still a little overwhelmed by the process. Now he is ready. He’s still self-effacing and geeking out, but he’s learning how to talk about the movie, about himself, about his friendship with Armie, his admiration for Stuhlbarg, his awe of Luca.

Call Me By Your Name is a monster hit at TIFF. Out of competition and in one of the smaller venues, it still manages a top three placement in the audience awards. One senses that awards are in the cards…time will tell.

I see that the movie is rolling out to other film festivals. New York, L.A., more. Wait…its playing the Calgary Film Festival?? Does that mean…is there a possibility…OMG its going to play the Vancouver International Film Festival! Its coming to my town.

Thursday October 5. I mark it on my calendar, buy a pass for the entire film festival, ensure I am going to be at all three screenings. And I wait.

Meanwhile the reviews keep coming and they are just spectacular. They emphasize the humanism of the film, the unbelievable way that Luca Guadanigno captured first love on screen, one of the most immersive film experiences of the year, a gift to the LGBT community.

The night finally arrives. My co-workers literally line up to wish me luck (and are probably secretly hoping this will break my fever and I’ll stop talking about it every day - sadly, that is not to be). My bestie, Linda, and I go together. I warn those around me not to leave during the end credits, I’ve read enough to know that this is a vital part of the film.

Credits…

Hallelujah Junction. “L’usurpatuer”. “I can show you around”. “Arrogante”. It just keeps coming, unfurling, two hours and twelve glorious minutes. I know what’s coming. I know there are changes from the book. I’m surprised by a few (Elio seems much more shy in the book, in the movie he seems almost like a cool kid). Oliver…sigh. They say goodbye in Clusone. Professor Perlman gives his son advice. Hannukah. Oliver calls. Married? “They know about us”.

“Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio…”



“Oliver. I remember everything”.



The fireplace.

The end.

I’m numb. I surprise myself by not crying in the theater at all. I’m definitely moved, but no tears. Linda gives me a ride home. No sooner do we get in her vehicle and I break down. Like, really break down. I’m almost inconsolable for five minutes, ten months of anticipation culminates in a glorious film experience that I know will re-live (and have) time and time again.

The movie opens in Los Angeles and New York on November 24. It breaks records for opening weekend box office numbers, but knowing the release trajectory and the success history of Sony Pictures Classics, the early numbers might be front loaded. Hundreds of other fanatics and the curious diving in to see what the hype is all about.

And so here we are a year and a bit later. The fans have seen the movie mutliple times (in theatres, in screeners, in leaks). There is the usual backlash, the second guessing of the release strategy, the lack of recognition in the televised awards shows (although the movie has almost universal acclaim and has been rewarded mightily along the way).

The last stop before the official DVD/Blu-Ray release is the Oscars on Sunday night. Four nominations. Picture, Adapted Screenplay, Song and Actor. We all know which one we want the most. We all know which one we’re going to get.

No matter what happens on Sunday night, no matter what has come and gone, the box office, the release strategy, the narrative about age gaps and queer representation, none of it means a thing when you can almost any time sit back and read the book or put on the movie, listen to the church bells, the buzzing flies, the high pitched laugh of Professor Perlman, the piano score, the splash of water, the finger penetrating the peach, the kisses in the dark, the choke in Elio’s voice when he asks his Mom to pick him up at the station, the crackling fire that we can hear through the final credits. We can marvel at the orange of the apricot juice, the emerald green water where the locals swim, Oliver’s finger on the dredged up sculpture, Oliver’s finger on Elio’s lower lip, the nosebleed, the way Marzia forgives Elio and extends her hand to his in eternal freundschaft.

Billowy.

So many moments to cherish.

My one wish for the lovers of the film is that you live your lives as free as possible from cynicism. This, after all, is one of the least cynical films ever made. Be kind to each other. Be gentle with yourself. Ride the waves and don’t let fear rule your life. Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once.

Dance.

Thank you Andre. Thank you James Ivory. Thank you Luca. Thank you Armie and Timmy. Thank you Esther and Amira and Victoire and Mafalda and Anchise and the crazy Italian couple at lunch. Thank you Sufjan. Thank you Romano who sits in front of the bar where Oliver plays poker. Thank you cute long-haired guy whose lap Marzia sits on during the dance party scene. Thank you 80′s girls who dance excitedly to “Love My Way”. Thank you 80′s new wave lady to dances with Oliver on their final night together. Thank you Peter Spears and Howard Roseman and Walter Fasano and Chen Li and everyone else who had a hand in this masterpiece.

I am eternally grateful.