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The Consequences of Love (2004)
Movie
An introverted man's life changes completely when he finds himself attracted to a young bar-maid.
The Great Beauty (2013)
Movie
Jep Gambardella has seduced his way through the lavish nightlife of Rome for decades, but after his...
Ruben Ostlund recommended The Great Beauty (2013) in Movies (curated)
Guy Garvey recommended The Consequences of Love (2004) in Movies (curated)
Italian Style: Fashion & Film from Early Cinema to the Digital Age
Book
This is the first in-depth, book-length study on fashion and Italian cinema from the silent film to...
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Call Me by Your Name (2017) in Movies
Mar 3, 2020
There are a swathe of European film-makers like Luca Guadagnino and Paolo Sorrentino that have the skill to make every image they print to film look like a work of art, giving you the feeling you are on the most idyllic holiday you ever had. Watching a largely silent image of a beautiful lake or a tree in the breeze, or an al fresco dinner where family and friends talk freely whilst the wine and olive oil flow is a treat I am not immune to.
Continuing to catch up on Oscar nominated films of recent years I have missed, I went on holiday in 1982 Italy for 2 hours last night. There was culture, architecture, piano music, food, nature, and a big peachy dollop of sensuality – thinly veiled as dramatic cinema. It washed over me like a daydream! And if I say nothing really happens, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a criticism. It ambles along at such a languid pace at times, with such little conflict or incident, but to call it insignificant would be a disservice to the power of love at its palpable heart.
Essentially, it is a right of passage movie, that defies gloriously every hollywood habit of over egging the souffle. For minutes on end we watch Elio, the formidable natural talent of Timothée Chalamet, read a book, go for a swim, ride a bike, play the piano, or fuck some fruit, as he gradually descends into obsession, and ultimately love, for the older Armie Hammer as the aloof and seemingly worldly Oliver, his father’s research assistant for the Summer.
It feels for a long, long time like you might not care, such a tale of rich privilege as it is; but, by the final moments you do realise you have been drawn into the depth of feeling that is often hidden in plain sight, and that you may after all relate to the heartbreak contained in loving an idea of love and passion that is never attainable in reality. The self discovery of a passion within you as a life force is a melancholy reward in and of itself.
I know already that I must return to this film from time to time in a variety of moods, because it has a depth of subtlety that may catch me differently every time; and that is its main power. The key to which is Chalamet. His eyes and body language are so filled with hidden wonders that his words don’t always convey, that his work seems more like a strange dance than your average screen performance, that often simply takes the script and merely reads it aloud.
The remarkable career of Michael Stuhlbarg, as Elio’s father, is also noteworthy here. Take a look at how many great films he has now been a part of and gasp to think, oh wow, that is the same guy! His paternal speech to Elio at the end of this film was a highlight for me. Such gorgeous writing, that combines character with wisdom and weakness in a tapestry of care and regret. Just wonderful.
You know, I came into writing this review feeling that I had found the experience quite disposable and slight. That clearly isn’t the case. This is obviously a film you must watch again, meeting it where it wants to meet you. Not to mention I have always been a Sufjan Stevens fan, and found his contribution to the musical landscape near perfect. In conclusion, there is a banquet here masquerading as a taste of something sweet brushing the lips. I will be back for a second bite in time.
Continuing to catch up on Oscar nominated films of recent years I have missed, I went on holiday in 1982 Italy for 2 hours last night. There was culture, architecture, piano music, food, nature, and a big peachy dollop of sensuality – thinly veiled as dramatic cinema. It washed over me like a daydream! And if I say nothing really happens, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a criticism. It ambles along at such a languid pace at times, with such little conflict or incident, but to call it insignificant would be a disservice to the power of love at its palpable heart.
Essentially, it is a right of passage movie, that defies gloriously every hollywood habit of over egging the souffle. For minutes on end we watch Elio, the formidable natural talent of Timothée Chalamet, read a book, go for a swim, ride a bike, play the piano, or fuck some fruit, as he gradually descends into obsession, and ultimately love, for the older Armie Hammer as the aloof and seemingly worldly Oliver, his father’s research assistant for the Summer.
It feels for a long, long time like you might not care, such a tale of rich privilege as it is; but, by the final moments you do realise you have been drawn into the depth of feeling that is often hidden in plain sight, and that you may after all relate to the heartbreak contained in loving an idea of love and passion that is never attainable in reality. The self discovery of a passion within you as a life force is a melancholy reward in and of itself.
I know already that I must return to this film from time to time in a variety of moods, because it has a depth of subtlety that may catch me differently every time; and that is its main power. The key to which is Chalamet. His eyes and body language are so filled with hidden wonders that his words don’t always convey, that his work seems more like a strange dance than your average screen performance, that often simply takes the script and merely reads it aloud.
The remarkable career of Michael Stuhlbarg, as Elio’s father, is also noteworthy here. Take a look at how many great films he has now been a part of and gasp to think, oh wow, that is the same guy! His paternal speech to Elio at the end of this film was a highlight for me. Such gorgeous writing, that combines character with wisdom and weakness in a tapestry of care and regret. Just wonderful.
You know, I came into writing this review feeling that I had found the experience quite disposable and slight. That clearly isn’t the case. This is obviously a film you must watch again, meeting it where it wants to meet you. Not to mention I have always been a Sufjan Stevens fan, and found his contribution to the musical landscape near perfect. In conclusion, there is a banquet here masquerading as a taste of something sweet brushing the lips. I will be back for a second bite in time.