It's only six years ago that Call Me by Your Name came out, after all, setting into motion the endless online discourse - on which director Luca Guadagnino has since opined with an appreciable shrug - around its camera-pan-to-the-window with Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer's first midnight rendezvous.īut this year, the fucking is candid. Filmmakers have historically erred on the side of tasteful reverence, or perhaps caution in the face of movie censors. For a very long time, it's something you only really saw in indie movies: think Brokeback Mountain and Jake Gyllenhaal's bussy full of beans, or the handsomely shot, horny tableaux of My Own Private Idaho, or for a more recent example evoking Brokeback, Francis Lee's God's Own Country, the sexy, Yorkshire-set farmer drama in which Josh O'Connor had his bareback breakout. It's interesting, really, that amid backlash towards sex scenes in media, with one recent study suggesting that Zillennials are put off by onscreen fucking, gay sex on screen is having something of a moment.
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