A film by any other name; The line between inspiration and originality

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (POALOF) had its cinematic release in Ireland in 2020, and so it ended up on many people’s ‘top films of 2020’ list. When I saw the film, I thought it was beautiful and emotive. I can’t argue with that, but my issue is with its originality or rather lack of. Call Me by Your Name (CMBYN) came out in 2017. I thought it was captivating in every way, but felt it fell under the radar in terms of accolades and recognition. Due to the similarities between the two films, any impact POALOF might have had on me was lost because I felt I’d already seen it.

I guess this feels like old news considering that the films came out a while ago now, but after so many people praised POALOF in 2020 with me only looking for a chance to speak about it, now is as good a time as any.

In order to question originality, you must first look at the creation of both stories. CMBYN comes from André Aciman's wonderful book of the same name, with James Ivory winning an Oscar for his screenplay, which is very true to the book. With Luca Guadagnino directing the film, the story is formed by three separate people. With POALOF, the film was written and directed by Céline Sciamma. The film is her brainchild. Given that she wrote the story and that CMBYN came out three years before, it may be possible that Aciman and Ivory so inspired Sciamma that her film became shockingly similar. There are millions of love stories, one just like the one that came before it, but these stories are about more than just love. It is about a bond that transcends body and mind. It is about all of those details we observe when we love someone.

Both films are set in Europe in beautiful locations, with the landscapes and weather often reflecting internal emotions. In CMBYN, the oppressive Italian summer reflects passionate desire and the difficulty that comes with the relationship. The French coastal landscape in POALOF is wild and rough, making for beautiful scenes, but this confused me because the romance is not wild, but slow and familiar. During a discussion I was having about this topic, I was reminded that POALOF is set in the eighteenth century when it was extremely taboo to be gay, but it was still taboo during the Eighties. It had not suddenly become ‘accepted’ and let’s not forget the attitude towards gay people during the AIDS crisis.

One thing I enjoyed about CMBYN was that it was simply a love story; being gay isn’t the entire point. Obviously, it is necessary to have films where being gay is the point; all groups need to be seen and represented. After all, New Queer cinema is all about representation, inclusion and reflecting experiences. Films about love where sexuality isn’t the point are also needed though; your sexuality doesn’t have to dominate your story. CMBYN is about all of those subtleties of attraction that transcend the physical; their connection is deeper than that. It is about wanting to be near the person you love because everything feels better when you are. We see close-ups of ankles, elbows or collar bones, showing the little things and sometimes odd things that create an attraction.

By taking almost the same story and making it about two women, it feels like POALOF is making a point about sexuality rather than a deeply emotional and sensual film about two people that are in love.

POALOF feels like a simplistic version of CMBYN. When Elio feels his attraction, his entire world and self changes, he is conflicted. He is unsure of himself and who he is. We feel his torture. He doesn’t want to give in to his infatuation for fear of what may happen or the rejection he may face if he does, but the pain of denying this attraction is equally great. We feel his agony as he tries to navigate this confusing time. Marianna and Héloïse don’t seem to share that same angst. Their connection already exists. Both are just waiting for the other to make the first move. There is no chase, no games, no uncertainty.

Like many people, when I watch a film, I want to get something from it. I want to connect with it. CMBYN made me weep at so many moments. So much beautiful dialogue, matched by its subtle camera work, which says so much by itself. When I watched POALOF, I didn’t feel much because I suppose I felt I’d already seen it.

It can not be denied that POALOF has many beautiful and original moments: the paintings and the moments that inspire the paintings, the ghostly figure in a wedding dress that haunts Marianna and foreshadows her separation from her beloved, a dress catching fire in the night. This imagery is ethereal and bewitching. It is truly dazzling and a delight to watch.

My biggest problem, and what kickstarted this idea about originality, is the films’ endings. Obviously, films are inspired by other films; there is a shot in POALOF that is clearly inspired by Bergman’s Persona, but there is being inspired by a shot or a want to pay tribute to a film and its creator. Then there is taking an entire ending sequence. What makes the final moments of CMBYN so beautiful is that fact that we are not able or allowed to escape Elio’s devastation and heartbreak. The film does not let us shy away from difficult emotions; we have to face them. As the credits roll, we watch Elio attempt to hold in his tears. His heartbreak will continue long after this film has ended. To me, POALOF copies this entire ending with some small changes: it is in a different setting, both characters are present (which, to me, lessens the emotional impact; we know that they still see each other). We watch Héloïse cry at the opera as the camera slowly pans in closer, but I had seen it before. The two women cannot be together. One ends up in a heterosexual relationship, while their true love must look on and watch.

How could I feel something or share in their heartbreak, as so many people did, when I had seen the same thing executed perfectly three years previously.