Dir. James Mangold, screenplay by James Mangold and Jay Cocks. Starring Timothee Chalomet, Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, Monica Barbaro
There's been some comment about inaccuracies and blurry time lines in James Mangold's’s new film about Bob Dylan, A Complete Unknown, based on Elijah Wald's ‘s book Dylan Goes Electric! I wasn't bothered by word on the street that it didn't follow all the facts, chapter and verse. It's a movie, after all, takes poetic license, and whatever A Complete Unknown lacks in historical accuracy, the screenplay and performances more than make up for in emotional intensity.
I tend to seek out biopics about artists, writers, actors, dancers, designers and musicians largely because I'm interested in what makes creatives tick, how they overcome challenges (if they’re able to) and perhaps partly because I want to understand more about the artistic impulse in myself. Of course such films often contain deeply intimate details about the person behind the work–good, bad and ugly–such as disastrous love affairs, jealousies & obsessions, addictions, weaknesses and destructive tendencies, that watching them can sometimes feel like voyeuristic key-hole peeping, with the perception that makers of docu-dramas–unlike biographers or documentarians abiding by some academic or journalistic standards– will take off the archivist gloves and get their hands dirty. This film has that behind-the-scenes/ “behind the music” feel, but without any tabloidish edges, due in large part to the transcendent performance by Timothee Chalomet as Bob Dylan.
It's about Dylan's transformation from itinerant troubadour into international rock star, thwarting Pete Seeger's (Edward Norton) dream of Dylan becoming the pied piper of the folk movement, only instead of leading new fans off a cliff like the sinister flautist of Hamelin, Seeger's vision has the immensely talented Dylan leading them to the mountain top, bringing folk music and its message off the street corners and out of the smoky confines of urban coffee shops and bars to the masses. Dylan's dream for his future doesn't mesh with Seeger's, however, and the final outcome of this push-pull in Dylan's early career is the stuff of legend.
A Complete Unknown captures the zeitgeist of the early 1960’s while illuminating aspects about our own times, with phantoms of war, nuclear and conventional, assassinations, the threat of political violence, and end-of-era uncertainty lurking in the background. In the film, Bobby Dylan (formerly Bob Zimmerman of Hibbing, MN), newly arrived in New York City, pays his respects to the king of folk, Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), with a visit to Guthrie’s hospital room. Guthrie is Bob’s damaged mentor, a sage robbed of the power of speech. Even in his debilitated state, both he and Pete Seeger, who's often at Guthrie’s bedside, see Bob as a new messenger.
The best Guthrie can ultimately do is to wish Bob well on his journey with the gift of a beloved harmonica, but Pete takes a very active role in promoting Bob, giving him a place to stay, finding him gigs, and introducing him to Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), the reigning folk princess with whom Bob forms a relationship both romantic and professional. Concerning Bob’s relationship with Sylvie (Elle Fanning), a committed young activist (whose real-life counterpart is a woman real-life Bob still cares for, the reason he didn't want her real name used in the film), Joan is a frustrating threat, a looming presence whose musical ambition rivals Bob’s, and who inhabits a place in Bob’s life that Sylvie can never share. In a heartbreaking scene, she stands offstage watching Joan and Bob share a mic at the Newport Folk Festival, helplessly observing their knowing looks that reveal a deep connection between them. Sylvie and Joan are well aware of each other and their respective places in Bob’s life, and Joan’s sweeping glance at Sylvie prior to joining Bob onstage is devastating, leaving Sylvie to wonder how she could ever compete with the angelic-voiced, barefooted star, and finally deciding once and for all–she can't.
Bob’s connection to Joan would be daunting for any other woman in his life, but even ambitious Joan can't compete with Bob’s total commitment to his art. The main conflict is between Bob’s vision for himself and the one others have for him, seeking to mold his mercurial talent to their own ends. Like other mid-century artistic rebels who changed the cultural landscape in their creative areas, such as Jack Kerouac, Jackson Pollock and Charlie Parker, Dylan's early relationship with fame is tentative and trepidatious, but he learns to navigate it without falling into addiction or isolation. The sunglasses he wears through much of the second half of the film become his armor, hiding a soulful gaze that hints at vulnerability but mostly reveals a steely, unswerving resolve to be his own man in a world that offers easy avenues for selling out or giving in, conforming to the desires and expectations of others. The simmering tension surrounding Bob’s fate and his courage to fulfill the destiny he imagines for himself finally explodes in a climactic scene amid crying, confusion, gnashing of teeth and cries of “Judas!” As Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook) puts it, Bob decides to “track mud on somebody's carpet,” and in so doing, cements his place in America’s musical canon..
I shared one song from the film, “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” , with my literature class just before the holiday break, a song that inspired Joyce Carol Oates to dedicate one of her most famous short stories, “Where Are You Going? Where Have You Been?” to Bob Dylan. Past and present, it's clear that Bob’s music and influence still spans generations, with fans from Gen Z to the Boomers. While Bobby stood on the shoulders of Woody Guthrie & other dreamers, truth tellers & street musicians that dared swim against the current, cut against the grain, and speak truth to power, he blazed his own trail as well. The arbiters of folk music yell for the guys on the sound board to stop the show during Bob’s first fateful electric performance, but they can’t; the force that’s been unleashed onstage is unstoppable,
I went to see this film not knowing if I'd like it or not, but hoping I'd find something in it that would inspire me, which is another reason I must admit I like to watch biopics about creative folk. I thoroughly enjoyed A Complete Unknown not only because of the stellar performances and standout script, but because I did leave inspired. It helps to be reminded that when one feels pulled in multiple directions, pressured to conform to other's desires or fit into a box someone else built, the best thing one can do is plug in and break free.