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INT. ELIO’S/OLIVER’S ROOM - PERLMAN VILLA - DAY 1





INT. LIVING ROOM - PERLMAN VILLA - DAY 15



I knew exactly what phrase in the piece must have stirred him the first time, and each time I played it, I was sending it to him as a little gift, because it was really dedicated to him, as a token of something very beautiful in me that would take no genius to figure out and that urged me to throw in an extended cadenza. Just for him.


We were—and he must have recognized the signs long before I did— flirting.


Later that evening in my diary, I wrote: I was exaggerating when I said I thought you hated the piece. What I meant to say was: I thought you hated me. I was hoping you’d persuade me of the opposite—and you did, for a while. Why won’t I believe it tomorrow morning?




INT. ELIO’S BEDROOM - PERLMAN VILLA - LATER 16





INT. LIVING ROOM - PERLMAN VILLA - DAY 49



A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess. She too is in love with him, though she seems not to be entirely aware of it. Despite the friendship that blossoms between them, or perhaps because of that very friendship, the young knight finds himself so humbled and speechless that he is totally unable to bring up the subject of his love. One day he asks the princess point-blank: ‘Is it better to speak or die?'




EXT. COUNTRY ROAD/SPRINGS - FONTANILI GAVERINE - DAY 58



Usually, I’d cast a glance and then look away—look away because I didn’t want to swim in the lovely, clear pool of his eyes unless I’d been invited to—and I never waited long enough to know whether I was even wanted there; look away because I was too scared to stare anyone back; look away because I didn’t want to give anything away; look away because I couldn’t acknowledge how much he mattered. Look away because that steely gaze of his always reminded me of how tall he stood and how far below him I ranked. Now, in the silence of the moment, I stared back, not to defy him, or to show I wasn’t shy any longer, but to surrender, to tell him this is who I am, this is who you are, this is what I want, there is nothing but truth between us now, and where there’s truth there are no barriers, no shifty glances, and if nothing comes of this, let it never be said that either of us was unaware of what might happen.




INT. ELIO’S BEDROOM - PERLMAN VILLA - NIGHT 67





INT. PROFESSOR PERLMAN’S STUDY - PERLMAN VILLA - DAY 88



Their muscles are firm- look at his stomach for example- and yet never a straight body in these statues, they are all curves, sometimes impossibly curved and so nonchalant, hence their ageless ambiguity. As if they’re daring you to desire them.




EXT. BINARIO - STAZIONE DI CLUSONE - DAY 134





INT. PERLMAN STUDIO - PERLMAN VILLA - EVENING/NIGHT 141



But remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. Most of us can’t help but live as though we’ve got two lives to live, one is the mockup, the other the finished version, and then there are all those versions in between. But there’s only one, and before you know it, your heart is worn out, and, as for your body, there comes a point when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Right now there’s sorrow. I don’t envy the pain. But I envy you the pain.




INT. KITCHEN/STAIRCASE/BOCCHIRALE - PERLMAN VILLA - AFTERNOON 143



“Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio”

"Oliver.. I remember everything."



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