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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Summer of the Selfless - 15. Chapter 15

All other concerns driven from his mind, Daniele fell upon his stricken friend, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Giaco!” he sobbed. “Giaco, wake up!”

The other boy gave no response; he just lay there, his life blood continuing to soak into his t-shirt. Desperately, Daniele pressed his nearest hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Somewhere, far away from Daniele’s perception, many pairs of running feet; the female voice again, commanding someone to “Freeze!”. He was deaf to it all. He lay over the other boy, shielding him with his own body to protect him from further harm.

Aiuto!” he cried wretchedly, his tears forming dark spots on the dusty concrete. “Aiuto! HELP ME!”

Around him, the commotion seemed to be slackening. He had a vague sense of two figures being marched forcibly past him; then a pair of hands took him firmly by the shoulders and turned him round. He found himself face-to-face with the strong features and concerned eyes of Valentina Forza, the Carabinieri chief.

Ferrero!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“We were trying to warn C-C-C-” Daniele sobbed.

“Cosmo Neri?” she prompted. “He isn’t here.”

“We o-overheard Assunta,” Daniele managed. “They w-were going to k-kill him.”

The police chief felt under Giacomo’s chin, checking for a pulse.

“Still alive,” she said evenly. She looked him up and down. “This is the Agnello boy…?”

Tearfully, Daniele nodded. “G-Giacomo.”

“Keep the pressure on that wound,” she said firmly. “You’re doing the right thing. The ambulance is already on its way.” She looked around uncertainly. “I need to contact your families. Can you help me with that?”

Wordlessly, Daniele handed his phone to her.

“Thank you,” she said. “What’s the passcode?”

“Zero one zero seven,” Daniele replied in a small voice.

She placed a brief, reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I have to secure the crime scene,” she said. “I’ll get someone here for you as soon as I can.”

She left him, and then it was just Daniele and Giacomo. Daniele took one of other boy’s hands in his; it felt cold, clammy and terribly vulnerable.

“Don’t die,” he begged, returning both hands to the wound and pressing down harder. “Please… I couldn’t…”

After a few minutes, a police officer handed Daniele’s phone back to him. He pocketed it without even stopping to see who it was and focused on his task. The tears continued to roll down his cheeks; had he been a religious boy, he thought he would have prayed.

Time was in chaos in Daniele’s mind, seeming to run too fast and too slow at the same time while he sat there and continued to nurse his friend but, after what can only have been another five minutes or so, he heard another set of approaching feet and he looked up.

A female police officer was approaching with a first aid kit, accompanied by a young man in the neat waistcoat of a hotel waiter, who stopped at the open gates, his face pale and shocked.

“Gianni…?” Daniele asked, staring at the new arrival without comprehension.

Quietly, the police officer took over Daniele’s work, releasing him to get up and greet the new arrival. He walked over to the young man, tears still in his eyes and his hands covered in his best friend’s blood.

Jesus, Dani,” Gianni croaked, gazing first at Giacomo’s prone form and then looking down at the sorry state Daniele was in. “How…?

“What are you doing here?” Daniele asked.

Gianni fished a clean white cotton napkin out of his waistcoat pocket and, working gently but firmly, helped him to clean Giacomo’s blood off his hands.

“Patrizia called me,” he said. “They’re on their way, but… we thought I could get here sooner.” He glanced back into the car park. “Angelo’s fetching Elena, I’m… sure they won’t be long.”

At the thought of Giacomo’s emotionally fragile, careworn mother, fresh tears began to course down Daniele’s cheeks. He wiped at them with his jacket sleeves, avoiding the spots of red that now dotted them.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Both Daniele and Gianni looked up to find that Marco had arrived at the gates; he was staring at the unfolding scene, his eyes wide and horrified.

Marco?” Gianni exclaimed in dismay. “You shouldn’t be seeing this! How did you get here?”

“I… slipped out after Angelo,” Marco mumbled. He swallowed hard. “Is… Giaco going to die?”

Daniele shook his head. “I… don’t know.”

He burst into fresh sobs. Gianni stepped forward and enfolded him in his arms.

“He doesn’t have to, Dani. If it… I mean, if the bullet missed his vital organs, then… he has every chance.”

“Please let that be true,” Daniele mumbled, clinging tightly to the young man’s waist. Behind him, Marco stepped up and wrapped his arms around them both, and the three of them looked on in silence as the young police officer worked to save Daniele’s fallen friend.

* * *

Elena Agnello arrived shortly before the ambulance did.

“Oh, my poor, sweet bambino,” she cried, rushing to her stricken son’s side, her faded dress flapping behind her. Gianni released Daniele as Angelo came over to them, a haunted look in his dark eyes.

“That’s something I never want to have to do again,” he said. “How are things looking here?”

Gianni put an arm around his partner’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “We don’t know yet.”

The burr of an engine and some hasty parking announced the arrival of Paolo’s taxi. The ambulance wasn’t far behind, descending into the car park as Daniele’s parents clambered out, lighting up the darkened car park in flashes of harsh blue light.

Patrizia and Paolo hung back to let the paramedic team hurry by, then they rushed to Daniele’s side. Marco released Daniele to his parents’ care, transferring his hand to Angelo’s arm, his face pale and frightened. The young men pulled the smaller boy absently into the space between them, a hand each on his shoulders.

“Daniele!” Paolo gasped. “Are you hurt?”

“We’ve been so worried!” Patrizia breathed.

Daniele shook his head. “I’m not hurt.”

How did you get caught up in all this?” Paolo asked.

“There’s this kid they were forcing to work for them,” Daniele explained. “Giaco was trying to get him out before he got hurt. I… just wanted to help.”

His eyes flicked towards Marco for a moment; the mousy-haired boy was looking back, the significance of Daniele’s words obviously not lost on him.

“Giaco was trying to help Cosmo?” he asked.

Daniele nodded. “For no reward.”

Patrizia pulled him into a hug. “I love that you like to help people, caro,” she said. “I just wish you didn’t always end up putting yourself in such danger to do it.”

Daniele could feel his chest tightening again. “I did it because it’s Giaco. We’d finally sorted everything out…” he sobbed, “and now…”

They stood aside as the paramedic team hurried back with Giacomo laid out on a stretcher and lifted him into the ambulance. Blinking hard, Daniele watched them go.

Will this be the last time I ever see him…?

If so, he thought the final image of his friend, unconscious with his t-shirt pulled up and his face trapped under an oxygen mask, would be with him for a very long time to come.

Elena scrambled shakily up into the back of the ambulance and the paramedics closed the doors. Marco broke away from Gianni and Angelo and stood alone, seeming small and vulnerable, watching silently as the ambulance driver turned the vehicle round and made their careful exit from the car park.

There were further crunching footsteps as Enzo arrived at the bottom of the car park, accompanied by a couple of Carabinieri officers. Daniele watched incredulously, a hot feeling building behind his eyes once again, as Valentina Forza went to greet him.

“The Neri kid has been apprehended,” he told her, “right where I left him.”

The Carabinieri chief nodded and shook his hand. “I can’t really condone you involving yourself like this, but there’s no doubt that your intelligence helped us to complete this mission. I want to thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking uncomfortably in Daniele’s direction. “Unfortunately, we’ve had a casualty here… the Agnello boy.”

Daniele broke free from his mother, a tide of rage and grief welling up inside him. Enzo looked up, his flint-like eyes registering surprise, as Daniele charged towards him, quite overcome by his emotions. To gasps of shock from his parents behind him, he shoved Enzo in the chest as hard as he could; startled, the young man staggered back slightly.

“This is all your fault!” Daniele cried. “We were only here because of Cosmo. You could have got him out, but you kept him in it for so long!

He continued to rain ineffectual blows on Enzo, who, having recovered from his initial shock, took them without complaint.

“It’s all right, kid,” he growled. “Lay it all on me, if that’s what you need.”

Valentina took hold of Daniele and pulled him gently but firmly away from the young man. Under her determined restraint, he gave up the fight and sagged again, breathing hard.

“Enzo did get Cosmo out,” she told him. “He took him to a safe location. We made sure he wouldn’t be here for the bust, but we couldn’t do it sooner. It would have aroused suspicion.” She sighed. “We never would have done it this way if we knew you would get involved. You should have come to us.”

“Giaco and I saw you together before,” Daniele said quietly. “We thought you might be part of it.”

Valentina nodded. “I remember.”

Daniele fixed Enzo with a reluctant look; the anger had already left him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Enzo shook his head. “Forget it, kid.”

Daniele glanced back up at the police chief. “What’ll happen to Cosmo now?” he asked weakly.

“We’ll need to hold him for a while to establish his role in all this,” she said, “but, if we find that he was acting under duress, he won’t be charged.”

“Assunta,” Daniele mumbled. “You need to get Assunta.”

The police chief nodded. “My men are already on it.”

Patrizia and Paolo ventured forward to retrieve Daniele from the police chief’s clutches.

“I’m sorry,” Patrizia said quietly, glancing awkwardly from Valentina to Enzo. “He’s very upset.”

“It’s all right, signora Ferrero,” the police chief acknowledged. “We understand.”

Daniele’s parents led him back to where Gianni, Angelo and Marco were waiting. His tears were beginning to fall again, and the others crowded around him.

“What am I going to do?” he croaked.

“I expect the police will want you to give them a formal statement,” Patrizia said, “but then all we can do is wait. You know… there’s every chance that Giacomo is going to be fine.”

“I hope he is,” Marco said quietly, then he pulled Daniele into one more hug, heedless of the blood that still stained his jacket, before handing him back to Patrizia and Paolo.

Marco turned away, a tear now rolling down his own cheek, and Gianni and Angelo moved to comfort him. Daniele was left with his parents, who enfolded him in their arms and consoled him as best they could.

* * *

Time passed, slowly and painfully, with long and anxious waits for news. For the first day or so, Patrizia and Paolo kept Daniele close but, after a while, he began to crave the company of his friends. They hung out together, sometimes as a group, sometimes in twos or threes, and tried to pass the time. The fate of the dark-eyed boy was never far from their minds, but life had to go on… didn’t it?

And so it was that, on the morning of the third day, they gathered in the cathedral square for an important reunion.

Daniele sat on one of the stone benches under the umbrella pines, flanked by Emilia and Marco, wearing his pink tie-dye t-shirt and his new denim jacket, now freshly washed and free of blood. Laura stood beside them, waiting politely. Above their heads, the cicadas scraped rhythmically in celebration of yet another fine summer’s day. Locals and visitors drank coffees or ate late breakfasts at the bars. The cathedral glowed white in the reflected summer sunlight. Everything was the picture of normality, apart from the small human drama playing out before them.

Luca stood a few metres in front of them, hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his jeans, his wavy hair brushed and his green eyes anxious. His adoptive parents, Luisa and Mario, waited by his side. Daniele had never met them before, but he thought they looked like a pleasant couple, honest and unpretentious. The three of them kept glancing nervously down the tree-lined street that led in from the valley road, and the air was thick with a tense sort of anticipation.

They must have seen something, then, because Luca suddenly started shifting uncomfortably on his feet, his mother adjusted the clasp on her handbag in a fretful sort of way and his father mopped his brow with a clean handkerchief.

Moments later, Valentina Forza emerged from the avenue, escorting none other than Luca’s prodigal brother, Cosmo Neri. The older boy walked into the square with his eyes cast down low, studiously avoiding looking at any of the others, for fear, perhaps, of what he might see there. Indeed, Luca’s green eyes betrayed a powerful mix of emotions that even Daniele could only begin to fathom; but his parents put their best foot forward, and moved to greet the new arrival.

Buongiorno, Cosmo,” Luca’s father said. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Mario, and this is my wife Luisa.”

Piacere,” Luca’s mother added quietly.

Cosmo looked up, his tired and unhappy face registering a glimmer of hope at their cautiously welcoming tone.

’giorno,” he mumbled.

Cosmo’s eyes – every bit as green as his brother’s – searched for and found Luca, who was hanging back behind his parents, looking back at him with great reluctance.

“Ciao, little bro,” Cosmo said quietly.

Luca responded with an almost imperceptible mumble that might have been “ciao”.

Valentina spoke up, addressing Luca’s parents.

“Thank you for agreeing to take Cosmo for a few nights, signor e signora Verdi,” she said. “We’ve contacted his case worker in Naples, and she’s agreed to visit you as soon as she can to discuss Cosmo’s longer-term care. He clearly can’t return to his foster family in Salerno.”

“I’m not a kid,” Cosmo mumbled.

“That much, you’ve already demonstrated,” Valentina told him, “but I don’t think you’re quite ready to make your own way in the world either, are you?”

Cosmo shrugged and quietened down.

“It’s not a problem, chief Forza,” Luisa said quietly. “We’ve been looking forward to getting the boys re-acquainted… haven’t we, Luca?”

Luca said nothing; he only remained where he was, staring uncomfortably down at his scuffed trainers.

Valentina cast her stern gaze in Luca’s direction. “Your brother’s been through a lot,” she said. “From what he’s told us, he spent much of your early years together trying to protect you.”

Luca gave her an uncertain and slightly rebellious stare, then his eyes returned to his shoes.

The police chief sighed slightly. “I know it’s hard to challenge the way you’ve felt about someone for years,” she went on, “but… judging by Cosmo’s reaction when we told him what had happened to Giacomo, a boy he barely knows, I for one am inclined to take him at his word.”

“Come on, Luca,” Emilia whispered, clutching tensely at her knees with her neat fingernails. “Give a little.”

Daniele placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him slightly.

The adults had lapsed into silence. Apparently deciding that it was up to him, Cosmo took a few faltering steps forward until he was right in front of his brother.

Please, little bro,” he entreated him. “I missed you.”

Gently, he reached out and lifted his brother’s chin up to face him. With a jolt, Daniele realised that Luca’s cheeks were streaked with tears. Suddenly, he lunged forward and threw his arms around his big brother, burying his face in his shoulder.

Everyone present seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Valentina nodded and turned on her heel, making her way back towards the Carabinieri station.

“I think we could all use a drink, don’t you?” Mario declared.

“But… it’s not even ten o’clock yet,” Luisa replied.

Mario shrugged. “Just this once, I really couldn’t care less. Come on, boys.”

The family departed, making their way to a free table outside one of the bars, leaving just Daniele and his friends.

“All’s well that ends well?” Marco suggested quietly.

Daniele sighed. “You know that’s not how it goes in this town.”

Emilia got to her feet, and Marco followed. Laura moved to join them.

“We were going to head down to Amalfi today, and maybe find a welcome gift for Cosmo,” Emilia said. “Want to come, Dani?”

Daniele looked up at them and shook his head. “Thanks,” he replied with a tired smile, “but… I have a feeling this is where I want to be today.”

Emilia twisted her mouth uncertainly. “Well, if you’re sure…” she said, and the three of them turned to go.

Daniele waved them off and checked his phone. Satisfied with what he saw there, he settled down to wait.

* * *

After another half an hour or so, by which time Daniele supposed the bus to Amalfi was long gone, he heard quiet footsteps approaching and he looked up. It was his mother, still dressed in her hotel waiter’s uniform, with her long blond hair tied up nearly behind her head. She smiled sadly at him.

“Almost time, caro,” she murmured. “Are you ready?”

Daniele nodded and took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

Patrizia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on something that had caught her attention at the far corner of the square. “Well, there’s no need to wait any longer,” she said gently.

Daniele looked up, and his heart lurched as he saw his father’s taxi pulling into the corner of the square from the mouth of the tunnel. He staggered to his feet and set out across the sunlit square, which suddenly seemed an impossibly long distance to cover.

The passenger door opened, and Elena Agnello levered herself out. She walked out to meet Daniele straight away, her prematurely aged face even more pale and wan than usual.

They met in the middle of the square, under the watchful eye of the cathedral.

“I’m… sorry,” Daniele mumbled, looking up into her tired eyes.

“Don’t be, Daniele,” she replied gently. “I’m glad you were there. Giacomo would have gone in with or without you, and… from what Valentina told me, your quick action to stem the bleeding could have made all the difference.”

“All the same…” he shook his head miserably. “I wish I could have stopped him running out like that.”

She cupped his cheek in one hand and gave him a sad smile. “What’s done is done. There’s no need for you to carry that guilt for the rest of your life. You were there for Giacomo right up to the end – that’s what matters.”

“So… what happens now?” he asked her in a small voice.

“Well,” she sighed, glancing thoughtfully over her shoulder, “I suggest you ask him yourself.”

She moved on to where Patrizia was waiting, and the two mothers embraced.

Heart beating nervously, Daniele turned back round to face the taxi. Paolo had climbed out and was in the process of helping his second passenger out through the rear door.

Giacomo clambered a little stiffly to his feet, pulled a pair of crutches out of the car behind him and set them carefully under his armpits. He gave Daniele’s father a grateful smile; Paolo acknowledged it with a nod, then gestured out into the square, where Daniele was waiting.

Giacomo’s dark eyes lit up and he began to hop nimbly across the square, using the crutches as naturally as if he’d been doing it for years. Daniele knew he should be walking to meet him but, just for the moment, he was too overjoyed to move.

He took a deep breath as the other boy approached, desperate to say something, anything, that might express how he felt… but he was lost for words. In the end, he gave up, and simply let out a delighted laugh.

Giacomo touched down in front of him, and then the crutches clattered, forgotten, to the ground as the dark-eyed boy pulled Daniele into a tight hug, happy tears coursing down his cheeks. Daniele could feel them wetting the back of his neck, and he didn’t care in the slightest.

“Never do that again!” Daniele cried.

“I swear,” the other boy replied, taking deep breaths, seeming to drink in the clean and wholesome reality of him. Slowly, the nightmare of the past few days began to fall away, and eventually they broke apart slightly, smiling at each other, although Daniele took care to keep one arm around the other boy in case he needed the extra support.

Daniele realised that the babble of conversation around them had stilled slightly; their joyous reunion had captured the public interest, their position in the middle of the square making them the natural centre of attention, and many pairs of eyes were looking in their direction.

In the corner, Patrizia and Elena both stood watching them, smiling and wiping their eyes. Paolo was sitting on the bonnet of his taxi with his arms folded, watching them with satisfaction. At the entrance to Via Roma, Daniele caught sight of Toto, Michele and Claudia, frozen with ice creams halfway to their mouths; while, from their table outside one of the bars, Luca and Cosmo stared at them with frank amazement. Catching sight of the two brothers together, Giacomo gave a happy laugh and offered them a wave.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Daniele said with an embarrassed smile.

“Who cares?” Giacomo replied, and they kissed.

* * *

“Does it hurt?” Daniele asked a little while later.

They were sitting on a bench in the peace and quiet of the Municipio gardens, just down from Giacomo’s apartment, under the welcome shade of the great umbrella pine and the ring of lime trees that surrounded it. Giacomo’s crutches leaned neatly against the far end of the bench; just to help him walk, the dark-eyed boy had told him, until it was easier and safer for him to bend.

“I’m on some pretty hardcore painkillers,” Giacomo replied. “When my prescription runs out, they said I can switch to standard over the counter stuff. I should be pretty mobile by the end of next week.”

“What… does it look like?” Daniele asked.

“See for yourself,” the dark-eyed boy replied. Carefully, he pulled up his t-shirt – a new one Daniele didn’t recognise, which he supposed Elena had bought specially for his return – revealing his flat belly, still as perfect as ever but for a small, soft dressing off to one side.

“Can I…?” Daniele ventured, reaching for the dressing.

“Go ahead. It’s already closed up.”

Carefully, Daniele pulled the tape back from one side, revealing a small, perfectly round hole over which fresh skin was already starting to form.

“It’ll scar,” he said quietly.

Giacomo nodded. “But the important thing is that it didn’t pierce any vitals. I’m going to be fine.”

Daniele kissed his fingers and brushed the wound gently with them, making the other boy flinch slightly with an awkward giggle.

“That sort of tickles,” he confessed as Daniele replaced the dressing.

“What are we going to do now?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo shrugged. “I may not be climbing any mountains for a while, but there are nearly two months of the holidays left.” He smiled. “I don’t want to waste them, do you?”

Daniele shook his head. “Totally. We’ve lost too much time already.”

“How do you think they’ll take it?” Giacomo asked thoughtfully.

Daniele frowned in confusion. “Sorry – what?”

“The high schoolers, I mean. Seeing two boys together.”

Daniele blinked. “I, ah… I think they’ll get used to it. If we did, I mean… we wouldn’t be the first.”

The other boy nodded. “That’s so you, Dani. You always try to find the best in people.”

Daniele bit his lip nervously. “Giaco…?”

Giacomo smiled. “Yeah?”

“Would you be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I… I think I’d like that. A lot.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, trying to contain the currents of feeling that were swirling around them, but soon the colourful gardens were ringing with their giggles, which blended and mingled with the scraping of the cicadas in the trees that surrounded them.

 

- End -

Copyright © 2023 James Carnarvon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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19 minutes ago, James Carnarvon said:

I always have written visually - I compose shots in my head and choreograph dialogue with body language like stage directions. Throughout writing The Summer of the Firefly I was picturing it as a movie; it even has a soundtrack. However, nobody would really make a movie of these stories, unless it was me with a handheld camera and a load of untrained local kids as actors, shortly before I got drummed out of town for making teenage boys kiss each other in the interests of ‘art’. 😆

I imagine it was thought Call Me By Your Name could never be filmed too, until it was.

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21 hours ago, drpaladin said:

I imagine it was thought Call Me By Your Name could never be filmed too, until it was.

I am sure @James Carnarvon would make a much better film than Call Me By Your Name (not that it would be difficult). I am still amazed the screenplay was written by the wonderful James Ivory, although according to the film's Wikipedia entry, the screenplay was substantially altered by the director, much to the film's detriment I think. The performance of all the actors I thought very good, it was just the story was so "thin", it was akin to watching a travelogue promoting the part of Italy in which it was set as a tourist destination.

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9 minutes ago, Summerabbacat said:

it was akin to watching a travelogue promoting the part of Italy in which it was set as a tourist destination.

And a film of The Summer of the Firefly wouldn’t be? I seem to recall some reviews and comments directly comparing it to such!

I think I quite enjoyed Call Me By Your Name, but I am oddly unable to remember anything much about it, which I suppose may prove your point. I haven’t read the book.

Edited by James Carnarvon
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15 minutes ago, James Carnarvon said:

And a film of The Summer of the Firefly wouldn’t be? I seem to recall some reviews and comments directly comparing it to such!

I think I quite enjoyed Call Me By Your Name, but I am oddly unable to remember anything much about it, which I suppose may prove your point. I haven’t read the book.

I strongly disagree with any reviews comparing any of your works to Call Me By Your Name (the film anyway). I suspect from the little I have read the original screenplay as written by James Ivory may have been quite different, particularly when compared to the screenplay he wrote for Maurice, another gay-themed film which he also directed. 

One critic described Call Me By Your Name as "craven commercialism" and a "super-bourgeois fantasy" that "exploit[s] the queer audience's romantic needs by packaging them and falsifying them". Quite accurate I think. Then again I also disliked Brokeback Mountain, which really surprised me as I had seen three Ang Lee film's before this, including another gay-themed film, The Wedding Banquet, and thought all three were magnificent. I will no doubt incur the ire of some, but I thought Heath Ledger's performance was woeful and the film needed a severe editing.

Edited by Summerabbacat
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55 minutes ago, Summerabbacat said:

I am sure @James Carnarvon would make a much better film than Call Me By Your Name (not that it would be difficult). I am still amazed the screenplay was written by the wonderful James Ivory, although according to the film's Wikipedia entry, the screenplay was substantially altered by the director, much to the film's detriment I think. The performance of all the actors I thought very good, it was just the story was so "thin", it was akin to watching a travelogue promoting the part of Italy in which it was set as a tourist destination.

It wasn't any affirmation of merit, but an example of what can be made. I didn't see the movie.

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