Yes, it is, @nccrimeanalystâŠ
One minute of pure perfection that illustrates Lucaâs genius and how the boys blend into the roles without a conscious thought.
Elio coming on the bike. Looking both sides. I donât know many cautious and extra careful 17-year olds. Do you? Note he does it almost mechanically, as if to tick a box in order to 1) win a precious millisecond to turn back 2) look inconspicuous to the people at Piazza del duomo: âSee, I am a responsible, rule- abiding young man. Go back to your own business and please donât pay attention to what I am about to do and say here 3) Appear as casual to Oliver as possible and give himself a moment to avoid direct eye contact with him.
When he gets off the bike, the hesitant behaviour is maintained. The first step towards Oliver is much slower and his lower body has a mind of its own, unlike the spine thatâs curved forward. Itâs as if he wants to give his legs a chance to run, just in case.
Oliver and his 6000 emotions per second: (What the fuck, has he come to scream at me? To embarrass me? To humiliate me? To tell me to go back home? To threaten to expose me? To rip my clothes off? You wish, Olver, you wish! Donât panic. Donât fret. Donât look at his sweet ass. Oh, isnât he cute when he props his bike against that BIG column? What would Prof Perlman say about phallic symbolism?)
Elio, adjusting his sunglasses, still on a mission to look as âwhateverâ as possible. Moves closer and realises that Oliver is just as amazing, blond, big, gorgeous and clever as always. And he had him in his bed. Shit! In his heart. Double shit! And he is crazy about him. And no sunglasses can hide thisâŠCut the crap, take the glasses off and shoot, Elio. Perhaps if I say it quick enough, he wonât even flinch, and I wonât be so embarrassed.
âIjustwantedtobewithyouâŠâ What did you just do, Elio? Quick, bite that last word back.
Oliver (beginning to like this!) sways his body and gives us a glimpse of a pearly smile. The prodigal son came to himself.
âI mean..I Iâll go.â Elio gets cold feet as Oliver looks a bit too contented and a bit too silent for his shaky teen confidence. If I move out the picture as quickly as possible, will he even remember that I was here? Elio thinks.
Oliver (why did nobody tell me not to fall for moody 17-year old?) suddenly grows bold in a ânow or neverâ way and does the equivalent of speaking into a megaphone, oblivious to poor Stefano behind him.
âDo you know how happy I am that we slept together?â
 Thatâs it. The confession that leaves him exposed and vulnerable. And for the first few panful seconds it looks like the confession has been in vain. The apprehensive look on Oliverâs face, the nervousness, and most importantly, the fact that we can see that he follows Elioâs every move, but we are denied his immediate reaction, are PURE GOLD.
Elio appears in the frame, but our agony continues, as we canât see his face and can only read him through Oliver. And then he throws in that simple âI donât knowâ to see our Oliver completely disarmed and despairing over so much sweet innocence. âOf course, you donât knowâ You are a tiny baby bird and Iâd do anything to protect your preciousness. âI donât want you to regret any of it.â Please tell me I didnât do anything wrong. Please tell me you liked it. Please tell me twenty years from now I will be a good memory, not an old regretâŠDid I scare you? Letâs diffuse the focus and pretend I care about both of us, but the truth is that my self-preservation is off, and Iâll pay the price (any price!) willingly just to save YOU the heartbreak. âI donât want either of us to have to pay one way or another.â
Elio, being his dramatic self and still thinking that Oliver perhaps cares less for him than vice versa, misinterprets Oliverâs concern but doesnât want to appear childish. So he brushes it all off âIâm not telling anyone. There wonât be troubleâ, meaning âI am an adult, I know how this adult stuff works, I can keep a secretâ, only to appear younger than ever.
Oliver just canât contain himself anymore as this heady mixture of lust, confusion, purity and devotion called Elio is within his bones and makes him giggly and light. He wants a moment just for the two of them, a moment to mark this precious revelation time. The hands barely touch but we know they are connected in a way that goes beyond hand holding.
Elio stops by the door, unsure if he had imagined this special bonding and whether he is right to assume that they are âOKâ and Oliver really likes him. Cause he is a poor baby after all, and this damn adult world is scary. Touches his lips, he wants them kissed. He wants reassurance that he is sexy, that he has power over Oliver, that Oliverâs reassurance is genuine and not because he sees him as this annoying clingy kid he needs to be rid of. Elio licks his lips, expects Oliver to get closer.
And then Oliver mirrors Elioâs looking left and right, just the way this scene started. I love that the same movement from both characters frames it and defines it. Just over a minute has passed but we have gone from hesitant Elio unsure whether he needs to speak at all, to convinced Oliver, who looks slowly both ways and has time to think before deciding â yes, I REALLY want to kiss you, I want you and Iâll move as close as possible to show you just how much. âI would kiss you if I couldâ.
Did I just write a 1000-word essay about video thatâs just over a minute long? You bet.
