Author Topic: Armie Hammer & Timothée Chalamet find love in Call Me By Your Name (2017)  (Read 257852 times)

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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Me too!  November???



Me three!

Sigh.


Meanwhile:



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  by Nikko Tan
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Elio finds Oliver down at the rocks



CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART by Nikko Tan
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« Last Edit: October 21, 2017, 02:09:23 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline brian

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I saw the film yesterday at the NZ International Film Festival. Sorry to tell you I was very disappointed. I took an intense dislike to the Oliver character from the beginning. Elio is beautiful. Unlike back in 2006, I no longer think a film is wonderful just because it shows 2 men kissing.

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART
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  by Nikko Tan
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Bike Rides To "B"


CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART by Nikko Tan
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« Last Edit: October 21, 2017, 02:09:45 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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In a first novel that abounds in moments of emotional and physical abandon, this may be the most wanton of his moves: [André Aciman's] narrative, brazenly, refuses to stay closed. It is as much a story of paradise found as it is of paradise lost. (....) Nobody gets clocked with a tire iron. No one betrays the other.





http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/25/books/review/DErasmo.t.html



SUNDAY BOOK REVIEW
Suddenly
One
Summer

By STACEY D’ERASMO
FEB. 25, 2007



André Aciman Credit Fred R. Conrad/The New York Times




This novel is hot. A coming-of-age story, a coming-out story, a Proustian meditation on time and desire, a love letter, an invocation and something of an epitaph, “Call Me by Your Name” is also an open question. It is an exceptionally beautiful book that cannot quite bring itself to draw the inevitable conclusion about axis-shifting passion that men and women of the world might like to think they will always reach — that that obscure object of desire is, by definition, ungraspable, indeterminate and already lost at exactly the moment you rush so fervently to hold him or her. The heat is in the longing, the unavailability as we like to say, the gap, the illusion, etc. But what André Aciman considers, elegantly and with no small amount of unbridled skin-to-skin contact, is that maybe the heat of eros isn’t only in the friction of memory and anticipation. Maybe it’s also in the getting. In a first novel that abounds in moments of emotional and physical abandon, this may be the most wanton of his moves: his narrative, brazenly, refuses to stay closed. It is as much a story of paradise found as it is of paradise lost.

The literal story is a tale of adolescent sexual awakening, set in the very well-appointed home of an academic, on the Italian Riviera, in the mid-1980s. Elio, the precocious 17-year-old son of the esteemed and open-minded scholar and his wife, falls fast and hard for Oliver, a 24-year-old postdoc teaching at Columbia, who has come to the mansion for six weeks to revise his manuscript — on Heraclitus, since this is a novel about time and love — before publication. Elio is smart, nervous, naïve, but also bold; Oliver is handsome, seductive and breezily American, given to phrases like “Later,” and abundantly “O.K. with” many things Elio is less O.K. with — O.K. with being Jewish, “with his body, with his looks, with his antic backhand, with his choice of books, music, films, friends.” From the first page, we know we’re in the crumbling terrain of memory. “I shut my eyes, say the word, and I’m back in Italy,” Elio writes from some later vantage point. Which is also, of course, to say: I am not in Italy now, I am not that young man, what I am going to describe is long over. Heraclitus, indeed.

The younger Elio has apparently been more or less heterosexual until Oliver arrives, but in fewer than 15 pages he’s already in a state he calls the “swoon.” He lies around on his bed in the long Mediterranean afternoons hoping Oliver will walk in, feeling “fire like fear, like panic, like one more minute of this and I’ll die if he doesn’t knock at my door, but I’d sooner he never knock than knock now. I had learned to leave my French windows ajar, and I’d lie on my bed wearing only my bathing suit, my entire body on fire. Fire like a pleading that says, Please, please, tell me I’m wrong, tell me I’ve imagined all this, because it can’t possibly be true for you as well, and if it’s true for you too, then you’re the cruelest man alive.”

But it is true for Oliver, and he does knock, and then things really heat up. What Elio and Oliver do to a peach, for instance, might have made T. S. Eliot take a match to “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” Aciman, who has written so exquisitely about exile, loss and Proust in his book of essays, “False Papers,” and his memoir, “Out of Egypt,” is no less exquisite here in his evocation of Elio’s adoration for the lost city of Oliver’s body and the lost city of the love between the two men. He builds these lost cities with the extraordinary craftsmanship of obsession, carefully imagining every last element of Elio’s affair with Oliver, depicting even the slightest touches and most mundane conversations with a nearly hyper-real attention to how, exactly, each one articulated a desire in Elio that felt “like coming home, like asking, Where have I been all my life?” Aciman never curbs or mocks Elio’s unabashed adolescent romanticism, never wheels in repressive social forces to crush the lovers, never makes one the agent of the other’s ruin. Even Elio’s father is fairly “que será, será” about what he suspects has been going on (a lot) under his scholarly roof.

What unwinds the men from each other’s embrace is none of these clichés; instead, Aciman, Proustian to the core, moves them apart, renders their beautiful city Atlantis, with the subtlest, most powerful universal agent: time. Nobody gets clocked with a tire iron. No one betrays the other. One becomes ordinary and marries; the other’s romantic fate is vague but seems to be more patchy. They meet again, 15 years later, and they’re not tragic; all they are is older. The fully adult Elio thinks, “This thing that almost never was still beckons, I wanted to tell him.” They “can never undo it, never unwrite it, never unlive it, or relive it. ... Going back is false. Moving ahead is false. Looking the other way is false.” In a book that seems to wear its heart on its sleeve, this openhanded, open-ended gesture is also its most knowing, challenging moment. That the city of desire is a scrim, all “dream making and strange remembrance,” Aciman seems to say, doesn’t mean it would be any less false not to walk into it. And if the novel is mourning this city, it is also, brick by brick, rebuilding it before the reader’s eyes.

In his essay “Pensione Eolo,” Aciman writes, “Ultimately, the real site of nostalgia is not the place that was lost or the place that was never quite had in the first place; it is the text that must record that loss.” In other words, Elio and Oliver might give each other up, but the book that conjures them doesn’t give up either one. In fact, it brings them back together, reunites them, for a glorious endless summer. In the book, the river can be revisited. The closing words echo the title: a phrase simultaneously of elegy and of invitation.




Stacey D’Erasmo's most recent novel is “A Seahorse Year.”

"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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   HEART OF HEARTS
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Evie
"All that remains is dreammaking and strange remembrance."
semi-hiatus






« Last Edit: August 19, 2017, 05:50:06 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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http://www.mynewplaidpants.com/






http://www.mynewplaidpants.com/2017/08/oliver-elio-forever.html



Oliver & Elio Forever



#CMBYN   #CallMeByYourName   #Elio #Oliver  #laterpeaches
#armiehammer  #timothéechalamet  #lucaguadagnino
#andréaciman  #Cor Cordium  #Heart of Hearts
  




« Last Edit: August 19, 2017, 05:50:38 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART
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  by Marie Campanula
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When you fall in love with a book...
(Page 154)








Inauguration post on my tumblr!!
I fell so very in love with a book, Call Me By Your Name
and this is a little fanart piece with Elio and Oliver
from around page 154, US edition.
Cannot wait to see the movie adaptation later this fall 🙏🏼








CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART by Marie Campanula
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"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART

by Dozer Draws


all that peach juice



sketch commission for @drawsaurus by Dozer Draws 🍑

217 notes  Apr 23rd, 2017

#call me by your name  #all that peach juice ;0;  
#sketch commission  for  #dozerdraws











  by cersell.art
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fucking precious moments angel baby



Drawn by cersell.art on commission for @drawsaurus  Thank you!

04.08.17  241 notes
#my art  #commission work  #drawsaurus  #call me by your name






/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /







oh jesus i just organised my commissions tag and guys i’ve got a problem
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#the soft nostalgic summer glow of it all   #i love it
#later!!!










« Last Edit: October 21, 2017, 08:54:52 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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It’s why it earned an extended standing ovation when it premiered Sunday night at the Sundance Film Festival.

It’s why seeing the film in a movie theater was tantamount to group gay catharsis for the audience in attendance, many of whom were weeping by the film’s end and then bogarted the post-screening Q&A to thank Luca Guadagnino for the film and its portrait of struggling for acceptance.

It’s why Call Me by Your Name  will likely go down as one of the best gay love stories of the last decade in film.










http://www.thedailybeast.com/call-me-by-your-name-the-sexy-poignant-gay-love-story-turning-all-of-sundance-on





PEACHY

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

Luca Guadagnino's film premiered to a standing ovation at Sundance, a gay love story
that’s an impossibly beautiful feast visually, emotionally, and—my god—sexually.


by KEVIN FALLON
01.23.17 5:37 AM ET



Timothée Chalamet, Armie Hammer and Michael Stuhlbarg in Call Me by Your Name


PARK CITY --The peach scene is in it.

If you’re a queer person who has read André Aciman's 2007 novel Call Me by Your Name, a hybrid coming out and coming-of-age story set in Italy in the early ’80s, that news will both comfort and titillate you.

If you haven’t, imagine the infamous American Pie  scene, but with dignity, emotional truth, and a semblance of relatability. But, you know, a guy still fucks a fruit.

It’s that dance between the aching familiarity that is so unfamiliar on screen—first love, but through the eyes of a young gay person—and sensuality, humor, and absurdity that makes director  Luca Guadagnino’s (I Am Love, A Bigger Splash ) latest film, the adaptation of Call Me by Your Name,  so special.

It’s why it earned an extended standing ovation when it premiered Sunday night at the Sundance Film Festival.

It’s why seeing the film in a movie theater was tantamount to group gay catharsis for the audience in attendance, many of whom were weeping by the film’s end and then bogarted the post-screening Q&A to thank Guadagnino for the film and its portrait of struggling for acceptance.

It’s why Call Me by Your Name  will likely go down as one of the best gay love stories of the last decade in film.

Starring Armie Hammer and breakout actor, 20-year-old Timothée Chalamet, the film opens in 1983 northern Italy, in one of those dream picturesque villas that seem to only exist in cinema—the perfect setting for an intense summer romance.

Chalamet is Elio, the 17-year-old son of academics who are hosting Hammer’s 24-year-old scholar Oliver for the summer. Their relationship is a push and pull from the start. Elio labels Oliver “the usurper,” yet is eager to be the strapping new arrival’s guide to the new town.

They’re a captivating pair: Elio, with his lean beanpole body throbbing with pubescence, and Oliver, the toned post-grad inhabited by The Social Network ’s Hammer, so stylish and statuesque in every breathtaking frame. There’s their dynamic, too: quickly and effortlessly bonded, but also instantly antagonistic. Both want something from each other, but flip their magnets over to repel the second the connection draws them too close.

It’s not clear at first that either character is gay, or even questioning, beyond the fact that you know you just purchased a ticket to a gay romance, thus making each interaction and every meticulously crafted frame of Guadagnino’s its own veritable blood-rush of arousal.

Each character shows off for each other. Elio, his piano skills; Oliver, his book smarts and domineering demeanor. It’s mutual masturbation before there’s even the hint of physical attraction, a thrill that’s heightened by Guadagnino’s filmmaking, which is awash with sexual tension, sweaty bodies, and swimsuits that cling just so to wet, shirtless bodies.

When Elio, behind closed doors, starts exhibiting his crush on Oliver, it’s played matter-of-factly, the kind of natural progression and self-realization that we’re so used to seeing in heterosexual romances that it’s almost jarring, even confusing, when it starts to happen.

And when Oliver starts having frank confrontations with Elio about their attraction, which had thus far been treated with a wink and knowing wit by Guadagnino, James Ivory and (film editor) Walter Fasano’s script, the practical reasoning that dominates their conversations seems completely ordinary.

Suddenly all of Oliver’s peacocking in front of Elio makes sense. He wanted  to be desired.

Elio’s sexual awakening is shielded by his desire to protect himself from his confusing feelings, but is also propelled forward by his excitement over his attraction, and his perception that Oliver might be attracted, too. The two spend the entire summer shirtless, ostensibly for each other’s benefit, even leaving the bathroom door they share constantly open, should the other happen to sneak a glimpse.

Knowing that they’re supposed to be together makes this dance akin to the kind of frustration kids these days call “blue balls.” But there’s something incredibly endearing about Oliver’s concern for Elio’s young well-being, should they, in this year decades ago, indulge in their attraction, and Elio’s sheepish gumption in confronting the older Oliver about it in the first place.

Their eventual coupling is presented almost as if it’s inevitable, understood, or even intrinsic. Imagine being a young queer person, watching this certainty about love and, more importantly, about sex, and believing that can happen to you. Because it does. Even before Elio and Oliver make their first physical contact, Call Me by Your Name  rings all those spectacularly universal bells that anyone who has experienced a first love, or a forbidden love, can hear in loud reverberations. But for an audience not used to seeing that experience reflected with a same-sex couple, the film is a rarity.

Just watching it is a visceral experience.

Shot in Italy and benefitting from an almost preternatural connection between Hammer and Chalamet, it’s a film that is drenched with sunlight and hormones. The idyllic Italian setting and new-love raw intimacy emanates from the film like pheromones you are carnally drawn to.

By the time Elio and Oliver start having sex, your own sex drive kick-starts as well. It’s that primal.

Their first physical encounter is voyeuristically intimate. It’s silent enough to hear Elio’s heart palpitating at the anxious thrill of it. As they jump into each other arms and roll on the bed, the creaking of the old bed frame is like an aural aphrodisiac. Each movement they make has an impact: the way they tangle their bodies, use their breath, carelessly disrupt a floorboard.

The camera pans out a window at the moment,  and you almost want to groan. But you also want to give Elio and Oliver their privacy. They deserve it.

For allowing them their modesty, we’re repaid with the most sensual pillow talk in recent memory, and the film’s namesake. “Call me your name,” Oliver asks of Elio, the boy whispering, “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver,” and Oliver cooing “Elio” in return.

The entire sequence is a treat for your heart and your libido.

Their first tryst ignites an affair, one that even Elio’s parents can no longer ignore, and one so beautiful that they do not want to. They suggest that the couple go off on a trip together before Oliver must return to the United States, leaving Elio behind. And before he can realize the impact of it, the most transformative summer of Elio’s life is over.

It would all be depressing, were it not for the clarity brought to it by his father, played by Michael Stuhlbarg. Stuhlbarg delivers a monologue to Elio that is so progressive, so enlightened, and so accepting—encouraging even—of his son’s relationship with Oliver that it would read as implausible were it not layered with such authenticity by Stuhlbarg’s performance.

It is the speech any queer person would dream of hearing from his or her father at that time in their lives, to the point that you begin to wonder if Elio is an unreliable narrator. Perhaps his recollection of the conversation, in 2017 decades after a far less open-minded ’80s, is wish fulfillment, or history rewritten.

Regardless, it’s two minutes of film that will be seared into every gay person who is in its thrall—explaining why it dominated so much of the Sundance post-screening conversation.

And what of that peach?

That peach is what will get people buzzing about this film, thanks to Guadagnino’s clever teasing throughout the entire film of the pivotal scene. His own foreplay, of sorts. Maybe word of mouth about it is what will entice a wider swath of filmgoers to the movie, aside from the LGBT demographic that is already desperate to see the film.

It will be a conversation starter for sure, and that’s fine. Call Me by Your Name  is about sex. It’s about sex and sensuality and attraction and the love that bubbles underneath that. And, thanks to Stuhlbarg’s speech, all that’s given a new name: normal.




"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART
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(I'm sorry the artist has
removed the beautiful drawing
(which is his/her right to do)
But I will leave the void
just in case.)


my thoughts only
going nowhere

by @erkinaken



CALLMEBYYOURNAMEFANART by @erkinaken


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Addition/comment/quote by me:
(page 214)



Ulliva, Ulliva, Ulliva ---it was Oliver calling me by his name
when he'd imitate it's transmogrified sound as spoken by Malfalda
 and Anchise; but it'd also be me calling him by his name as well,
hoping he'd call me back to mine, which I'd speak for him to me,
and back to him: Elio, Elio, Elio.











(Click here for this fan's other post, page 11 in this thread)


I got a copy of the korean translation of #callmebyyourname #cmbyn
with a beautiful illustration cover, and it's aesthetically so satisfying.
The title changed, and it can translate into "that year, the summer's guest."






« Last Edit: September 09, 2017, 07:37:51 am by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"