I mean, seriously: the rare cuts, so many silent scenes without any soundtrack, long, mundane moments, everyday conversations... the whole film feels like nothing particularly special is happening and yet you're never bored. Because you're involved in it? Because this is life?
The scorching heat, so intense you're almost always half-naked; swimming in the river cools you down, but only for a couple of hours; adults talking over breakfast; by evening it might get a little cooler, but not much; during the day you have to help your parents; oh, the peaches...
I've never been to Italy, and I watched the film with Russian subtitles, but it genuinely felt like I wasn't watching a beautifully short story made by someone else, I was watching a fragment of life that somehow felt familiar to me. A strange and wonderful feeling! I've never experienced this level of authenticity in a film before. Either my experience as a viewer is still very limited, or films like this are truly rare.
And the story itself… Yes, it’s definitely the best LGBTQ representation I’ve ever seen, and I feel like it will remain that way for a long time.
I saw a story about two people. People, do you understand?
When a film doesn’t focus on the mere fact of a character’s sexual orientation, but on the feeling itself and on the people living through it: it isn’t vulgar, it isn’t crude, it isn’t flat. It’s alive, tender, and deep. That means a lot to me.
And one more thing: the harsh life of homosexual people in a heteronormative society doesn’t seem like the main theme of the film to me at all.
It’s about growing up, about self-discovery, about experience.
What Elio does with the peaches and with his girlfriend is a desperate attempt to understand himself. With Oliver, he seems to actually recognize himself. Through his parents’ words, he listens to himself more closely; through their experience, he sees his own right future more clearly.
And yes — the parents!
I was so glad that the protagonist talked about this with his father. In films, I usually see coming-out conversations happen between opposite sexes: daughter × father, son × mother — as if they’re automatically more understanding just because they’re attracted to the same gender. But really: does it always have to be that way in every family?
I’m genuinely glad that he talked to his father rather than his mother. Even if the father might also be bi or gay — that creates a different reading. The father doesn’t envy Elio because he has such wonderful, understanding parents, he envies him because his son’s life worked out in a way his own never did. That’s an interesting idea too.
But I’m much more curious to watch a heterosexual mother/father with a homosexual daughter/son: I love you as you are, even if I can’t feel romantic attraction the way you do.
And does that really matter?
You love, and you are loved — that’s what matters most.
