A Complete Unknown
by George Wolf
James Mangold’s Walk the Line wasn’t a bad movie. But that 2005 Johnny Cash biopic – along with Taylor Hackford’s Ray from one year earlier – relied so heavily on convention that Jake Kasdan’s 2007 comedy Walk Hard found easy marks for spoofing.
A Complete Unknown has Mangold’s biopic sights set on Bob Dylan, where a tighter historical focus helps him craft a more memorable film.
Instead of attempting a complete life arc, Mangold and co-writers Jay Cocks and Elijah Wald wisely choose a four-year whirlwind that changed the course of music and culture. Opening in 1961 as a 19-year-old Bob Dylan (Timothée Chalamet) travels from Minnesota to visit an ailing Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) in a New York hospital, the film follows Dylan’s legendary rise to savior of the folk music scene, through his defiant choice to turn Judas and “go electric” at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival.
Dylan became a pop culture enigma long ago, fueled by his obvious delight in tall tales, an antagonistic stage presence and prickly interactions with the press. He’s cared little for letting us know him, leaving the more avant garde approaches to telling his story (especially Todd Haynes’s I’m Not There) as the most compelling.
It’s hard to imagine a mainstream treatment working better than this one. And it’s one propelled by an absolutely transformative performance from Chalamet. His success at emulating both Dylan’s voice and guitar style is beyond impressive, as is his ease at moving the iconic persona from an ambitious Greenwich Village newbie to the cynical voice of a generation feeling “pulverized by fame.”
And maybe most importantly, he crafts Dylan as a soul bursting with song ideas 24/7. This not only provides an important layer for his sometimes cold social behaviors, but it gives the birth of classic compositions a much more organic, believable feel than the revisionist pandering of biopic films looking to simply pad a soundtrack (cough, cough, Bohemian Rhapsody.)
The supporting ensemble provides terrific backup, especially Edward Norton’s turn as folk hero Pete Seeger. A committed pacifist, Seeger serves as gentle mentor to Dylan early on, then nervously tries to navigate the young man’s ascension once it’s clear that his talent is too great to contain.
That early take-and-give is a subtle step toward the intimate triangle that anchors the film: Dylan’s relationships with girlfriend Sylvie Russo (Elle Fanning, perfectly supportive, naive and wounded) and singer/activist Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro, impressively handling her own assignment of embodying a legend). The film doesn’t shy away from the self-centered way Dylan hedged his bets at both women’s expense. And though it’s clear Dylan was following his artistic voice above all, you never get the sense he’s being entirely forgiven, either.
That’s refreshing, especially since Dylan himself was reportedly involved enough in production to provide some dialog and request the “Sylvia Russo” name change from the real-life Suze Rotolo. He also apparently gave his blessing to a major anachronism in the storyline that will seem egregious to longtime fans but ultimately adds dramatic weight to the final fiasco at Newport. (The ill-advised addition of Chalamet’s face into some real archival footage, though, is a curious misstep.)
For all its many strengths, maybe the most impressive aspect of the film is the way it uses that implied mystery of the title to its advantage. Eschewing the standard biography, this time Mangold paints us the time, the place, and a movement that’s content to tread water, then adds the mystery tramp seemingly sent from outer space as a necessary chaos agent.
As I write this review I’m listening to one of the 16 Dylan albums sitting in my playlist. Major fan here, and the closer I got to seeing this film, the more cautiously optimistic I felt. More than happy to report it exceeds expectations.
A Complete Unknown is an intoxicating, engrossing mix, and one of the best films of the year.
