Tag Archives: George Wolf

Life of Illusion

All We Imagine As Light

by George Wolf

“It’s like this place isn’t real. You could just vanish into thin air and no one would ever know.”

“We would know.”

With All We Imagine As Light, writer/director Payal Kapadia creates a triumphant portrait of friendship and Indian womanhood. In her narrative feature debut, Kapadia unveils a wonderful voice, one full of clarity and grace, with an assured command of how to reach us through her characters.

Kani Kusruti is gently spellbinding as Prabha, a nurse in Mumbai who has not heard from her husband in over a year. After their arranged marriage, he has been working extensively in Germany, and when his unexpected gift to Prabha arrives in the mail, it only punctures her guarded routine.

Prabha’s roommate is Anu (Divya Prabha), a younger nurse who is resisting her parents’ desire for an arranged marriage by taking up with Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon). While the other nurses whisper about her “boy,” Anu and Shiaz look forward to finding a place to become intimate.

While Prabha advises Anu to be more responsible, the lesson is underscored by Prabha’s attempts to help Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam), who works as a cook in the hospital, stay in her chawl (tenement apartment). Parvaty’s husband has suddenly passed away, and now a developer wants to evict her to make way for a skyscraper.

As the lives of the three women intersect, Kapadia illustrates the struggle of Indian women to balance tradition with the desire to control their own destinies. And whenPrabha and Anu join Parvaty on a trip back to her village, separate events will push all three women closer to changing their lives.

There is a poetic nature to Kapadia’s storytelling. With only the most gentle of nudges, Kapadia speaks for the scores of Indian women who come to Mumbai for the promise of a better life in the city, only to be disillusioned. All We Imagine As Light draws its power from how clearly it sees them, and how real it makes them feel.

Final Curtain

The Last Showgirl

by George Wolf

They may be a universe of genres apart, but Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance and Gia Coppola’s The Last Showgirl breathe plenty of the same air, both on the screen and on the red carpet.

Like fellow 90s icon Demi Moore, Pamela Anderson squeezes every dramatic ounce from the role of her lifetime, reigniting her career with a performance steeped in the personal experience of hard truths her character is suddenly forced to confront.

Anderson is Shelly, a longtime showgirl at the Le Razzle Dazzle revue in Las Vegas. Shelly finds purpose in the garish glamour of feathers, sequins and skin, and in her small circle of backstage friends. Dismissing the labels of just another “nudie show,” Shelly will not be denied the dignity she brings to each performance.

But after a three-decade run, the show’s producers announce plans to shut it down, leaving cast and crew to ponder what comes next. The question hits hardest for Shelly, who will soon be left to navigate Las Vegas without the leverage of youthful beauty.

And as the days tick down to that final curtain, Shelly is also juggling a strained relationship with her daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd), mother figure advances from young cast member Jodie (Kiernan Shipka), and a complicated past with Eddie (Dave Bautista), the show’s stage manager.

In her feature debut, screenwriter Kate Gersten provides important moments of authenticity that are doubtlessly rooted in her research time spent with real showgirls in Vegas. Coppola (Palo Alto, Mainstream) showcases it all with subtlety and respect, letting each character-driven moment (including a priceless cameo from Jamie Lee Curtis) personify a longing to savor something that is already gone.

But like Moore’s desperate Elisabeth in The Substance, it is Anderson herself who provides this film’s most authentic layer. She has lived a life celebrated for her face and body, but often mocked when she tried to offer anything else. That hard-won wisdom grounds Anderson’s performance, and makes Shelly’s steadfast defense of her chosen art form anything but laughable.

Coppola’s camera comes in close, and Anderson does not flinch, letting every line on her face tell a story. She hits enough levels of honesty to prove just as vital to her film as Moore is to hers, bringing a clear-eyed engagement that gives The Last Showgirl its – yes I’ll say it – substance, and her career its own reason to be re-born.

Best Horror Films of 2024

We say this most years, but 2024’s horror output kicked all manner of ass. It was tough to narrow our list down to ten, so we want to give some quick love to the honorable mentions.

25. Immaculate

24. Speak No Evil

23. Woman of the Hour

22. Sleep

21. The Devil’s Bath

10. In a Violent Nature

19. Milk & Serial

18. The Vourdalak

17. Handling the Undead

16. Stopmotion

15. Cuckoo

14. Alien: Romulus

13. Late Night with the Devil

12. Smile 2

11. Infested

And now, our ranking of the ten best horror films of 2024.

10. Red Rooms

True crime culture. Serial killer groupies. The Dark Web. Does all of it seem too grim, too of-the-moment, too cliché to make for a deeply affecting thriller these days? Au contraire, mon frère. Québécois Pascal Plante makes nimble use of these elements to craft a nailbiter of a serial killer thriller with his latest effort, Red Rooms.

Plante expertly braids vulnerability and psychopathy, flesh and glass, humanity and the cyber universe for a weirdly compelling peek at how easily one could slide from one world to the other.

His real magic trick—one that remarkably few filmmakers have pulled off—is generating edge-of-your-seat anxiety primarily with keyboard clicks, computer screens and wait times. But the tension Plante builds—thanks to Juliette Gariépy’s precise acting—is excruciating. They keep you disoriented, fascinated, a little repulsed and utterly breathless.

9. Oddity

Carolyn Bracken is Darcy, twin sister of the recently slain Dani (also Bracken). Darcy is a little touched—she still runs the curiosity/antique shop her mother left her and still holds on to the giant wooden man a witch gave her parents for their wedding. Darcy is also blind, so when she arrives at her brother-in-law’s home—the very spot where Dani came to her bloody end—Ted (Gwilym Lee) and his new live-in girlfriend (Caroline Menton) don’t know how to politely ask her to leave. And to take her giant wooden friend with her.

Writer/director Damian McCarthy hands this tapestry of folklore and soap opera to a nimble cast and a gifted cinematographer. Together this team casts a spell too fun to break.

8. Longlegs

Maika Monroe is Agent Lee Harker whose “hyper intuitive” nature has her assigned to a confounding case of whole families murdering one another, the only sign of an outside presence being an encoded note left at the scenes. Monroe’s green FBI agent is as stiff and awkwardly internal as Nic Cage’s psycho is theatrical. Her terror is as authentic as his lunacy.

Filmmaker Oz Perkins shines as bright as ever, too. As always, his shot selection and framing evoke dark poetry. His use of light and shadow, architecture and space is like no one else’s. Longlegs is strangely beautiful, deeply unnerving, and a fine reason to be a horror fan.

7. I Saw the TV Glow

Fulfilling the promise of 2021’s We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, writer/director Jane Schoenbrun’s follow-up, I Saw the TV Glow, is a hypnotically abstract and dreamily immersive nightmare of longing.

Justice Smith (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves) is heartbreakingly endearing, while Bridgette Lundy-Paine (Bill & Ted Face the Music) provides a revelatory turn of alienation and mystery. It’s hard to take your eyes of either one of them, with Schoenbrun often framing their stares through close-ups that become as challenging as they are inviting. And that feels organically right. Because Schoenbrun is channelling characters who imagine life as someone else, to again emerge as a challenging and inviting filmmaker with a thrillingly original voice.

6. Heretic

There is something undeniably fun about Hugh Grant’s villain phase. Filmmakers Scott Beck and Bryan Woods craft a villain for the veteran actor that might just wipe those 90s rom-coms from our collective memory. Grant is Mr. Reed, and he’s invited two young Mormon sisters (Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East, both very solid) into his home to help lead him to enlightenment. 

Less terrifying is the trap that’s been laid, more frightening is the absolute authenticity of Grant’s wickedly funny performance. You know this guy—if not in person, then from online comments. He’s absolutely genius, and though the film writes itself into a bit of a corner, there’s no denying this performance.

5. Blink Twice

In her directorial debut, Zoë Kravitz—working from a script she co-wrote with E.T. Feigenbaum—delivers an intoxicating and haunting thriller about privilege.

What transpires feels influenced by the classic The Stepford Wives, as well as Julia Leigh’s Sleeping Beauty and Olivia Wilde’s Don’t Worry DarlingThe ideas are less borrowed than repeatedly, historically true and Kravitz reconsiders these timeless notions with an unerringly contemporary sensibility and a mean spirit that’s earned. Still, it’s Channing Tatum who effortlessly bridges horror fantasy with “damn, this could really happen.” His morally blurry turn, charmingly evil, has such authenticity to it that the island horror feels more like a reflection of reality than it should.

4. Strange Darling

“Are you a serial killer?” A question usually asked in jest during a first date, but you still judge your date’s facial response as they answer. Was that a nervous laugh? Did that smile come too easy? We’ve all seen too many episodes of DatelineStrange Darling kicks off with this question and that’s the top of the hill for the cat-and-mouse roller coaster thriller that follows.

The twists are fun, but Willa Fitzgerald (The Fall of the House of Usher) and Kyle Gallner’s (SmileDinner in America) performances are the best part of the movie. 

3. The Coffee Table

A remarkably well written script fleshed out by a stunning ensemble becomes utter torture as you want so badly for some other outcome. Co-writer/director Caye Casas ties threads, builds anxiety, plunges the depths of “what’s the worst that could happen?” and leaves you shaken.

David Pareja and Estefania de los Santos craft indelible, believable, beautifully flawed characters so convincing that their experience becomes painful for you. Casas salts the wounds with dark comedy, but the tenderness and tragedy collaborate toward something far more crushingly human.

2. The Substance

There are some films that, for better or worse, you never truly forget. With each passing minute, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance proved it would be one of those films. And that shrimp cocktail will never look as appealing again. Holy cow, this movie! What a glorious sledgehammer Fargeat wields! 

Demi Moore -in her best performance in decades if not her career – plays Elisabeth, an actress and fitness guru turning 50. Fargeat takes this concept, pulls in inspiration from Cronenberg as well as Brian Yuzna’s Society, strangles subtlety with some legwarmers, and crafts an unforgettable cautionary tale about the way the male gaze corrupts and disfigures women inside and out.

1. Nosferatu

In collaboration with longtime cinematographer Jarin Blaschke and The Northman composer Robin Carolan, filmmaker Robert Eggers conjures an elegant, somber, moody Germany breathlessly awaiting death.

Eggers keeps the Count (Bill Skarsgård) shrouded in darkness long enough to build excitement. What the two deliver is unlike anything in the canon. It’s horrifying and perfectly in keeping with the blunt instrument they’ve made of this remorseless monster. His monstrousness makes the seductive nature of the tale all the more unseemly. This beast, the rats, the stench of contagion infesting the elegant image of Germany and her beautiful bride—it is the stuff of nightmares.  

It makes you grateful that Eggers was not intrigued by Stoker’s elegant aristocrat and his tortured love story, but drawn instead to the repulsive carnality of Nosferatu.

Best Films of 2024

It’s that time again! Our lists were checked at least twice and we came up with what we believe are the best films of 2024. It was a good year.

1. Nosferatu

In collaboration with longtime cinematographer Jarin Blaschke and The Northman composer Robin Carolan, filmmaker Robert Eggers conjures an elegant, somber, moody Germany breathlessly awaiting death.

Eggers keeps the Count (Bill Skarsgård) shrouded in darkness long enough to build excitement. What the two deliver is unlike anything in the canon. It’s horrifying and perfectly in keeping with the blunt instrument they’ve made of this remorseless monster. His monstrousness makes the seductive nature of the tale all the more unseemly. This beast, the rats, the stench of contagion infesting the elegant image of Germany and her beautiful bride—it is the stuff of nightmares.  

It makes you grateful that Eggers was not intrigued by Stoker’s elegant aristocrat and his tortured love story, but drawn instead to the repulsive carnality of Nosferatu.

2. Anora

Sean Baker doesn’t shy away from seamy subcultures, and the worthiness of people trying to get by outside of conformity. Yet it hasn’t been until his Palme d’Or winner Anora that he has found one group without any redeeming qualities. This shocking and depraved group of people is, in this case, the jet-setting global elite.

The relationship between the spoiled son of Russian oligarchs living in Brighton Beach and exotic dancer Ani (Mikey Madison) quickly escalates, from sex work outside the club to becoming an exclusive escort to an impromptu Vegas marriage. This being a Baker fairytale, Ani’s whirlwind rags-to-riches marriage is only the beginning of her Cinderella story. 

Baker pulls off a risky balance between outright comedy and what is, essentially, the kidnapping of a sex worker by three large, powerfully connected men. None of this would work without Baker’s characteristic empathy for everyone. And it certainly wouldn’t feel so easy-going were it not for the relationship between Ani and the silent strongman Igor, played by Yura Borisov with a standout turn that nearly rivals Madison’s.

3. Sing Sing

To see the film is to witness a filmmaking vision brought to transcendent life by director/co-writer Greg Kwedar, and a tremendous ensemble cast that features many formerly incarcerated members of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program at Sing Sing maximum security prison. Another endlessly sympathetic and award-worthy performance from Colman Domingo, personifies the soul-stirring effects of the RTA.

The film’s surface-level message of healing through the arts is well-played and well-earned, but a more universal subtext is never far from the spotlight. Sing Sing soars from the way it invests in the need for expression and inspiration, and in the very souls who found a path to redemption by stepping on stage.

4. Challengers

The relationship triangle at work in Challengers could probably work outside of a tennis court, but director Luca Guadagnino does wonders with the sports angle for a completely engrossing drama of intimate competition. Anchored around a three-set challenge match between Art Donaldson (West Side Story‘s Mike Faist) and Patrick Zweig (Josh O’Connor from The Crown), the film drifts back and forth in time as it immerses us in their series of entanglements with tennis phenom Tashi Duncan (Zendaya).

Zendaya, Faist and O’Connor deftly handle the growth of their characters from fresh-faced teens to hardened adults. All three deliver terrific, well-defined performances, and Challengers quickly becomes a film to get lost in, where you’re happy to be hanging on every break point.

5. Love Lies Bleeding

Awash in the stink and the glory of new passion, Rose Glass’s Love Lies Bleeding treads some familiar roadways but leaves an impression solely its own. Glass blends and smears cinematic gender identifiers, particularly those of noir and thriller, concocting an intoxicating new image of sexual awakening and empowerment. She routinely upends images of power and masculinity, subverting expectations and associations and fetishizing the human body anew.

Anyone who’s seen Glass’s magnificent 2021 horror Saint Maud may be better prepared for the third act than newcomers to the filmmaker’s vision, but it’s a wild and unexpected turn regardless.  It’s quite something—bold, original, and wryly funny in the most unexpected moments. There’s heartbreak and horror, sex and revenge, a little magic and a lot of steroids. Glass’s juice has the goods.

6. A Complete Unknown

Instead of attempting a complete life arc, director James Mangold and co-writers Jay Cocks and Elijah Wald wisely choose a four-year whirlwind that changed the course of music and culture.

It’s hard to imagine a mainstream treatment working better than this one. And it’s one propelled by an absolutely transformative performance from Timothée 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.”

7. The Substance

There are some films that, for better or worse, you never truly forget. With each passing minute, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance proved it would be one of those films. And that shrimp cocktail will never look as appealing again. Holy cow, this movie! What a glorious sledgehammer Fargeat wields! 

Demi Moore -in her best performance in decades if not her career – plays Elisabeth, an actress and fitness guru turning 50. Fargeat takes this concept, pulls in inspiration from Cronenberg as well as Brian Yuzna’s Society, strangles subtlety with some legwarmers, and crafts an unforgettable cautionary tale about the way the male gaze corrupts and disfigures women inside and out.

8. Will & Harper

Harper Steele loved traveling America and spent years upon years hitchhiking and driving from town to town, dive bar to dive bar, stock car race to pool hall to backwater, savoring every minute of it.  But since she transitioned a couple of years ago, she’s afraid to do it anymore. Her friend Will Ferrell  thinks maybe she can re-explore the country she loves as her true self if she has a man with her. Preferably a big, lumbering, lovable, friendly, famous friend willing to shift attention away from her whenever she might want him to. 

There are so many reasons to watch Will & Harper, not the least of which is to see two of the smartest comedic minds (the two met on SNL when Steele was head writer for the show) riff. Another great reason to watch Will & Harper is that this film fits so beautifully into that American cinematic tradition of emotional, thrilling, deeply human road picture: one relationship changes and deepens with the landscape as America itself is more clearly revealed. Will & Harper just makes you wonder how it can be possible for anyone to be upset by another person’s transition. It also makes you hope those who feel too stigmatized to do it realize that there is a better life.

9. The Piano Lesson

You can often find ghosts lurking in the plays of August Wilson. His characters work to forge a better future for their families, haunted by the trauma and systemic racism that has beaten them down for generations. Those themes also define Wilson’s The Piano Lesson, while a vengeful spirit from the past adds a layer of the supernatural to director and co-writer Malcolm Washington’s debut feature.

As a strong-but-cautious woman fighting for both her past and her future, Danielle Deadwyler is an award-worthy revelation. John David Washington has never been better, managing an impressive balance between manic ambition and his sobering reality. 

10. Wicked

Grande gives Glinda’s vanity a charm that is somehow inviting and often quite funny, while Erivo brings a level of tortured longing to Elphaba that makes her journey all the more resonate. The two leads – who often sang live during production – have the pipes to bring their own brand of magic, and they share a wonderful on screen chemistry that anchors the film. But themes of a gaslighting scheister wresting power through deception and greed by turning the populace’s attention toward “others” to fear hits a nerve now that gives the film a depth and power than the stage production or book ever had.

Honorable Mentions

  • 11. Civil War
  • 12. The Bikeriders
  • 13. Nickel Boys
  • 14. The Brutalist
  • 15. September 5
  • 16. The Wild Robot
  • 17. Inside Out 2
  • 18. Furiosa
  • 19. Saturday Night
  • 20. Blitz
  • 21. A Real Pain
  • 22. Kneecap
  • 23. The Fire Inside
  • 24. Dune: Part Two
  • 25. Snack Shack

Battle Scarred

The Fire Inside

by George Wolf

Like James Mangold and the music biopic, director Rachel Morrison is facing the lure of convention with The Fire Inside. Not only is this a sports drama, but the sport is boxing – perhaps the most easily cliched in the genre.

But Morrison has Oscar-winner Barry Jenkins in her corner as screenwriter, and together they give the true story of Claressa “T-Rex” Shields the gritty authenticity she deserves.

Shields rose from a hardscrabble upbringing in Flint, Michigan to twice compete for Olympic gold, but the film earns its spot on the podium from the way it shifts the perspective to opponents she fought outside the ring.

Morrison – making her feature debut after television projects and numerous cinematographer credits on films such as Black Panther and Mudbound – avoids easy button pushing (no training montage!) to mine depth from the relationship between Shields (Ryan Destiny from TV’s Grownish and Star) and her trainer, Jason Crutchfield (the great Brian Tyree Henry).

Both Destiny and Henry and fantastic, and their partnership is rooted in a clash of raw determination and hard-won wisdom that’s inherently easy to root for. Morrison sets us up to sweat right beside them, and to understand the real-life trauma that remains when the sold out crowds head home.

Like any good sports movie, the film gives us plenty to cheer for. But that’s the easy part. It’s a bit more difficult to paint heart, humanity, and the drive to never settle with genuine feeling. But it’s clear that Shields has never backed down from a challenge, and The Fire Inside makes sure we don’t forget that.

Fright Club: Best Horror Movies of 1974

Chinatown, Young Frankenstein, The Godfather: Part 2, A Woman Under the Influence, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, The Conversation, Lenny—1974 was a hell of a year in movies! And horror was just as revolutionary.

We celebrate the 50th anniversary of those gems of 1974 with our pick of the five best. But we still love It’s Alive, Dark Star, Sugar Hill, Beyond the Door, Frightmare, CaptainKronos Vampire Hunter, and Abby. We just love these five more.

5. The Phantom of the Paradise

Brian De Palma’s first and only musical is a Phantom of the Opera/Faust/The Picture of Dorian Gray mash up (with some FrankensteinThe Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and more than a little Rocky Horror thrown in for good measure). That’s a heady mix.

A campy skewering of the soulless music industry, Phantom sees tiny Seventies staple Paul Williams as the Satan-esque Swan, a music executive with a contract for you to sign. Poor Winslow (William Finley) is just as wide-eyed about his music as all those would-be starlets are about their chances for fame and fortune in this evil world of pop super stardom.

Like many horror musicals, the film works best as a comedy, but Finley’s garish visage once he makes his transformation from idealistic musician to mutilated Phantom is pretty horrifically effective. The film as a whole is a hot Seventies mess, but that’s kind of the joy of it, really.

4. Blood for Dracula (Andy Warhol’s Dracula)

The film was also released as Andy Warhol’s Dracula, which is kind of rude since it was actually Paul Morrissey’s Dracula. The longtime Warhol collaborator had just made Flesh for Frankenstein with Udo Kier, Joe Dallesandro and Arno Jürging. (Both films were made available in 3D. If you are ever able to screen them theatrically in that format, you are compelled and required to do so!)

Set during a Socialist upswelling just before Fascism took hold in Italy, the film sees a weak and anemic Count reeling from the lack of virgins to eat. He travels with his manservant to the Italian villa of Il Marchese Di Fiore. But he did not take into account that Joe Dallesandro is the handyman there.

Lurid, hot and sloppy in that gloriously garish Morrissey tradition, it’s a trashy treasure.

3. Young Frankenstein

Will you look at this cast? Madeline Kahn and Cloris Leachman are untouchable comedy gods in this movie (per usual). Gene Wilder is the master of pretending to the a comedy’s straight man but employing every physical instinct for comedy. Peter Boyle, Teri Garr and Marty Feldman round out one of the most spot-on comedic ensembles ever assembled.

But Mel Brooks’s horror comedy is unlike many of his other comedies in that it honors and loves that thing it sends up. He used cinematic techniques popular in the 1930s, shot in black and white and even borrowed actual sets from James Whale’s original Frankenstein laboratory.

The result is a perfectly executed horror comedy.

2. Black Christmas

Director Bob Clark made two Christmas-themed films in his erratic career. His 1940s era A Christmas Story has become a holiday tradition for many families and most cable channels, but we celebrate a darker yule tide tale: Black Christmas.

Sure, it’s another case of mysterious phone calls leading to grisly murders; sure it’s another one-by-one pick off of sorority girls; sure, there’s a damaged child backstory; naturally John Saxon co-stars. Wait, what was different? Oh yeah, it did it first.

Released in 1974, the film predates most slashers by at least a half dozen years. It created the architecture. More importantly, the phone calls are actually quite unsettling and the end of the film is a powerful, memorable nightmare.

1. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

Tobe Hooper’s camera work, so home-movie like, worked with the “based on a true story” tag line like nothing before it, and the result seriously disturbed the folks of 1974.

Hooper sidestepped all the horror gimmicks audiences had grown accustomed to – a spooky score that let you know when to grow tense, shadowy interiors that predicted oncoming scares – and instead shot guerilla-style in broad daylight, outdoors, with no score at all. You just couldn’t predict what was coming.

He dashes your expectations, making you uncomfortable, as if you have no idea what you could be in for. As if, in watching this film, you yourself are in more danger than you’d predicted.

But not more danger than Franklin is in, because Franklin is not in for a good time.

Mystery Tramp

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.

Screening Room: Mufasa, Sonic 3, Nosferatu, A Complete Unknown, Babygirl & More