Based on the novel of the same name by André Aciman, this multilingual film took the world by storm, using three languages (French, Italian, and English) in the first five minutes. The resulting language barriers add to feelings of yearning established by the musical score, whose key elements originate from Sufjan Stevens (Futile Devices; Mystery of Love; Visions of Gideon). Music, language, and literature carry the work’s primary themes, namely those of precocity and sexuality. Elio embodies all three—his main hobbies include transcribing music, playing the piano, and reading. These themes are further captured by the symbol of the apricot, its relationship to precocity and sexuality explicitly discussed in the film. Furthermore, the denouement of the film, arrives through a figuratively rich and overtly sensual scene involving Elio and the summer stand-in of the apricot, the peach, (1:34:30-1:40:24), beautifully capturing the relationship between Elio’s intellectual maturity and emotional naïveté.

Controversy surrounds Call Me by Your Name, primarily regarding consent and age statutes. Although Elio is over the 1983 age of consent in Italy and most United States jurisdictions, his relationship with Oliver evokes discomfort. This speaks to the historical Western perception of gay relationships as predatory. Nonetheless, their relationship warrants some skepticism, particularly regarding age-based power dynamics. The Perlmans support and watch over their son as the relationship progresses, frequently checking in and pointing him to literary passages as points of reference. In this way, the film navigates a complicated and loaded social topic, particularly in the queer community.

Further depth is added by considering the historical context of the early 1980s. By 1983, the AIDS epidemic had globally taken hold, the virus only identified in France the May prior to the events of the film. “Gay cancer” was a widely used term for a rare and defining symptom of AIDS, singling out the Western community hardest hit at that time. The merciless, viral specter of death overshadowed the gay liberation movement of the previous decade. HIV is never mentioned in the film, but its presence must be known by Oliver, adding to his own hesitations and fears about his and Elio’s sexualities. 1983 was also rife with relevant political fallout: Gerry Studds––the first openly gay member of Congress––became embroiled in a scandal involving a relationship with a 17-year-old, and Bettino Craxi was elected as Italian Prime Minister, eventually leading to the collapse of the modern Italian political machine. Craxi plays a central role in the peripheral events of the film, his influence appearing on television and in conversations with dinner guests.

Call Me by Your Name is an evocative masterpiece, one of the few movies that I can watch repeatedly (cf. Heated Rivalry). Despite my inherent preference for novels, this film, far and away, manifests a beauty missing from its literary inspiration. The actors perform splendidly, the music deepens the emotional journey, and the cinematography transports the audience perfectly to the setting. Every time I watch it, I discover greater depth and fall in love with it more, even if I can never look at a peach the same way.

Call Me by Your Name 
Director: Luca Guadagnino 
Screenplay: James Ivory 
Awards: Best Adapted Screenplay (Critics’ Choice Awards); Best Male Lead [Chalamet] & Best Cinematography (Independent Spirit Awards); Outstanding Film-Wide Release (GLAAD Media Awards); Best Editing (Nastro d’Argento Awards & Golden Ciak Awards); Breakout Actor [Chalamet] (Gotham Independent Film Awards & Hollywood Film Awards)
Year 2017 
Studio Sony Pictures Classics 
Running Time (in minutes) 132 
Based on Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman 

Web image from Sony Pictures.

What is Colombo’s heresy? True, he has consistently violated the Papal Bull of Pope Boniface VIII that forbad obtaining cadavers for dissection, but his scholarly eminence and friendship with Pope Paul III have protected him from recrimination. His heresy is far worse than simply ignoring a Papal Bull; in fact, Mateo Colombo has discovered a dangerous new anatomical structure, the clitoris! 

Mateo was called to the bedside of an unconscious holy woman named Inés de Torremolinos. In the process of examining her, the physician was amazed to discover “between his patient’s legs a perfectly formed, erect and diminutive penis.” (p. 105) He took hold of the strange organ and began massaging it. As he did so, there was an amazing response in his patient: “(Her) breathing became hoarser and then broke into a loud panting… Her lifeless features changed into a lascivious grimace…” (p. 107) Subsequent research undertaken with Mona Sofia, the resplendent whore, as well as with cadavers, confirmed the significance of Colombo’s discovery. 

At his hearing before the High Tribunal, Colombo explains his findings, which are far too complex and subtle to summarize in a short review (pp. 138-165). The finding of greatest interest, however, is that “there is no reason to believe that there exists in women such a thing as a soul.” (p. 151) In fact, Colombo contends he has proven that the “amor veneris” or clitoris performs in women “similar functions to those of the soul in men,” although its nature “is utterly different since it depends entirely on the body.” (p. 153) 

This novel was highly controversial when it first appeared in Argentina, and its denunciation by the sponsor of a major literary prize in that country sparked a literary scandal. The novel’s basic conceit is the analogy between Christopher Columbus’ “discovery” of the geographical New World in 1492, and Mateo Columbo’s discovery of the anatomical New World, the clitoris, a generation later.  

Like his explorer namesake, the Renaissance anatomist ventured forth into new territory, setting aside prejudice and popular opinion, as well as (in Mateo’s case at least) the weight of church authority. However, although the anatomist struck a blow for objectivity in observation, his interpretation of the findings was compromised by cultural bias, in this case, by pervasive misogyny. The human soul is the seat of reason; since women are controlled by passion rather than reason, perhaps they lack souls. When Colombo concluded he had discovered the organ that produces passion (“amor veneris”), he assumed that, since the clitoris generates female behavior, it must be analogous to the soul, which generates male behavior. Needless to say, this theory guaranteed some heated discussion. If you thought Descartes’ concept of the pineal gland as the seat of the soul was bizarre, try this one. 

Historical note: Matteo Colombo (c. 1515 – 1559) was an Italian professor of anatomy and a surgeon at the University of Padua between 1544 and 1559. While Colombo was not the first anatomist to describe the clitoris, he is credited as being the first who correctly identified the clitoris as a predominantly sexual organ. He was never tried for heresy. In fact, he was the personal physician of Pope Paul IV and his major work, De re Anatomica (1559), was published in Rome with ecclesiastical approval. The correct English translation of his Latin text reads “the clitoris is the site of women’s delight,” not “soul.” However, Andalhazi’s fictional re-imagining of Columbo’s life and work makes for a very provocative story.  

The Anatomist
Frederico Andahazi
New York, Doubleday, 1998 (215 pages) 

Web image by Tim Schmidbauer