Directed by: Joel and Ethan Coen
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, and Justin Timberlake.
Plot: Folk singer Llewyn Davis struggles to make a name for himself during 1960s Greenwich Village music scene.
Review:
In 1991, the Coens made one of their coolest movies in my opinion, Barton Fink. It was about the titular Barton, a New York playwright, who flies out to Hollywood to try to bring integrity to the artistically corrupted movie business. Almost 19 years later, they made one of their weaker films, A Serious Man. It was essentially a contemporary retelling of the Book of Job from the Bible. For those who don’t know, the Book of Job was about one of God’s most devout believers having his faith tested when God causes him great suffering. Inside Llewyn Davis is like a second bite of the apple for both of these themes. It is not quite as good (or trippy) as Barton Fink but much better than A Serious Man.
What was constantly referred to as a tour of pre-Bob-Dylan Greenwich folk scene is definitely more of a character piece about an asshole. In the title role of Llewyn Davis is Oscar Isaac, an up and coming dramatic performer who’s ability to sing makes him such a perfect candidate for this particular Coen protagonist. Despite being ill-tempered and ill-humored, Davis has been able to make a few friends and few favors, most of which he cashes in for couch surfing. His guitar and his record are his only true possessions, but his prevailing characteristic is definitely his pretentiousness. He seems to always be silently judging the musicians around him for a lack of artistic integrity. When suggested he get a real job, his answer was, “And just exist?” As if all the rest of us do is exist, just breathing and using up resources until we can ear the next great piece of genius from whatever douche bag musician decided to try that day. Luckily, Isaac brings enough sadsack charm and likability to the role that we care enough to travel along with him while simultaneously cheering for the Coen’s trademark fatalism to really pile it on.
Then there is the music. Can’t talk about this movie without talking about the music. Based heavily on the work of Dave Van Ronk (seriously, compare the album covers), the Coens teamed up with songsmith T-Bone Burnett to resuscitate ’60s Greenwich Village. I feel bad that the first time I had heard about T-Bone was when he worked on Jeff Bridges’ country singer drama Crazy Heart because he has had an impressive career working with Elvis Costello, Roy Orbinson, and John Mellancamp. He also worked with the Coens to bring the soundtracks of their previous films O Brother Where Art Thou and The Big Lebowski to life making these 2 movies, along with Inside Llewyn Davis, cultural time capsules. They effectively steal the tone and pace of their period-appropriate music to drive the movies. For Inside Llewyn Davis, that is something slow and steady. It is something that tests and ultimately rewards your patience stringing along a series of dry jokes and black comedy.
This movie doesn’t seem to have as much existential subtext or metaphors as Barton Fink, but that was the nature of Barton the character, always in his head pretending the page doesn’t necessarily reflect his feelings and subconscious. Llewyn on the other hand is a performer, not just an artist. His craft is based on pouring out his feelings, so much of his real life drama is worn on his sleeve and attacked head on. In practice, it surprisingly lacks nuance and it fails to make something out of the morsels of nothing slowing down the movie a little too much.
Rating: 8/10
