Is my brilliant friend gay

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But in that discomfort and in her questioning of Lila’s relationship with Enzo (Giovanni Buselli), she unintentionally reveals volumes about her personal journey. It is not far out from the downfall of Mussolini and the fascists, which still casts a dark shadow over everything.

Though in hard times, one often finds a companion to bear the burden and what better companion for the perceptive Lenù than Lila, a girl seemingly misunderstood but in whom Lenù find ‘the characteristic of absolute determination.’ Their dynamic across the years is something that will forever shake inside me and I found it such a powerful expression of the ways we tend to perceive ourselves through the fragments reflected back by others.

The actors need to not only satisfy the mental image created by the reader, but they need to satisfy the demands of the text. Elena and Lila shape each other like marble, cutting and chipping away at the parts of their personalities that are unformed and imperfect. Here we find life in a changing world as ‘a sticky, jumbled reality’ and watch the ways various ambitions play out to survive it.

Have I held Elena and Lila to an erotic standard that I myself do not keep? If you don’t care about the people in your life, how the fuck do you think you’re going to be able to uplift anyone else?
– The shot of Elena pulling Lila back from the literal darkness was chef’s kiss
– “There’s no better medication for a woman than being pregnant” someone slap that man

Best Quotes:

– “You’re a writer.

But maybe that’s just what all female friendship is like—maybe all women speak Latin, and I just never noticed.

is my brilliant friend gay

With roots of friendship growing from a shared childhood soil, continuing to coil around one another’s lives through all the pruning of teenage years into adulthood, and having weathering the storms across the years together, it is a bond that bears many secrets and scars but also deep understanding. He looks like he was styled by an evil mortician.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, these pictures say “I don’t want to fuck with that guy” 125 times.

The actor, Alessio Gallo, is not this terrifying in real life.

Tradition is partly a reflection of the world as it exists, partly an interpretation by those with more social power and privilege, and partly shaped by those who want to form a closer relationship with the world around them so they can, at the very least, understand it.

Tradition can be inclusive, enlightening, and comforting. I particularly enjoyed how language is so central to the book, but also an aspect that is both connection and competition.

It is powerfully portrayed how she always feels second best to her friend, and while she also find strength through Lila she also seems to be creating a sense of identity that can only be understood in the context of Lila. But the extent to which I truly could not relate to Elena and Lila’s relationship prompted some soul searching.

Some of the casting is so-so: The lanky, floppy-haired Antonio is fairly forgettable, a no-no considering he becomes such a pivotal character.

Michele, though? I do want to talk about one element, though: The teenaged Michele Solara, as portrayed by Alessio Gallo.

Who is Michele Solara? This is most notable when her pride in her own writing is shattered by a single letter from Lila she perceives as superior.

Or how those in power protect themselves through violence and intimidation.


In the book, I found that Ferrante’s controlled narration prevented the reader from wandering too far off from Elena’s perspective, which is maybe why I never finished.

(Ferrante has played a part in creating the show; I’m sure she was very specific about that.) Some of the casting is very good: Lila and Elena look and act perfectly, in my opinion. I hadn’t even mentioned it to them.

Michele’s perpetually brooding expression reflects his reputation as a silent enforcer, someone who does the dirty work without complaint.

But the show is charming, and enjoyable, because it effectively mimics dusty mid-century Naples; because it faithfully recreates the plot and characters of Ferrante’s first novel; because that plot and those characters are so compelling that to watch the action play out on screen is nearly as good as watching it play out on the page, even if you miss Elena’s monologues.

The eight episode miniseries isn’t yet finished, so I’ll reserve judgment for the finished product.

(But not too sorry: Lila makes it clear why she’s disgusted by him, and the show mostly concurs with her.)

Michele, on the other hand, has barely factored into the plot besides acting as his brother’s muscle, and looking like teenaged Dracula. Lila abandons school but chases a dream to create and rise out of poverty through marriage (also to escape a worse relationship).