Inside Llewyn Davis (15.)
Directed by Joel and Ethan Coen.
Starring Oscar Issacs, Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund and F. Murray Abraham. 105 mins
Coen Brothers movies are rarely what you expect. But when it was announced that their latest film would be set in the Greenwich Village folk music scene of the early 1960s, from which Bob Dylan and others would emerge, the mystery of what exactly they would make of it seemed that bit more than usual. I went in wondering what they saw in the subject, and keep wondering for its entire length.
Even by their standards this is an inscrutable movie, their most impenetrable work since Barton Fink. I think by the end I had got a grasp on it, but I could be way off. It is also a fairly perverse endeavour.
Llewyn is a man waiting for the story of his life to really kick in. He is a talented singer and guitarist and eager for success, or acclaim or some money but his life is rotation of other people’s couches to sleep on and cigarettes to be bummed. He alienates just about everybody he meets. He’s waiting for his big break but is stuck in a toxic existence where every situation or opportunity turns horribly bad. He’s a jerk but he is also the latest in the line of Coen Brothers’ persecuted protagonists. They seem to love torturing their leading men and Davis has it almost as bad as Larry Gopnick in A Serious Man.
So it is a film about the flipside of success, the thousands of nearlymen who make up the ladder by which the one or two climb to success. But I think the movie is primarily about the challenge of making a film where the lead character isn’t a lead character, and the story isn’t really a story. Throughout the film, various narrative avenues present themselves and each time you think, Ah, here we go, but each time the movie just goes straight on past them. It never takes the turn. It’s quite funny in places but not enough to be a comedy, desperate in others but not enough to be a tragedy. At various points scenes are staged so as to suggest that Davis is being offered a deal with the devil but he never takes it. Various visual metaphors present themselves, primarily a cat that Davis allows to escape from his home and can’t recover, but none of these take hold either.
Isaacs, an accomplished performer but not a star, is perfectly cast. The film is seen in some quarters as a paean to artistic integrity but it seems to me that Davis is driven by a need for fame, but he doesn’t have the star quality. This is emphasised by involving him in several obvious comedy moments, such as the moment a performer on stage announces we have a very special guest in the audience and Llewyn prepares to join them, reluctantly, for a song but then some else is mentioned. If he really was special I don’t think the Coens would be placing him in such routine bits of comedy.
It works through the excellence of the film making. The lead character rattles around aimlessly in a cinema world that is immaculately constructed. There isn't a shadow out of place. This wintry New York milieu is not conventionally visually stunning but these dull, damp landscapes are beautifully caught.
It is fascinating film to contemplate; arguably less so to watch. If you have ever dismissed the Coens as being clever clever, this is exactly the film you were thinking of. Even fans may find themselves a little frustrated by it; however they dress it up you’re on a road to nowhere.
Directed by Joel and Ethan Coen.
Starring Oscar Issacs, Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund and F. Murray Abraham. 105 mins
Coen Brothers movies are rarely what you expect. But when it was announced that their latest film would be set in the Greenwich Village folk music scene of the early 1960s, from which Bob Dylan and others would emerge, the mystery of what exactly they would make of it seemed that bit more than usual. I went in wondering what they saw in the subject, and keep wondering for its entire length.
Even by their standards this is an inscrutable movie, their most impenetrable work since Barton Fink. I think by the end I had got a grasp on it, but I could be way off. It is also a fairly perverse endeavour.
Llewyn is a man waiting for the story of his life to really kick in. He is a talented singer and guitarist and eager for success, or acclaim or some money but his life is rotation of other people’s couches to sleep on and cigarettes to be bummed. He alienates just about everybody he meets. He’s waiting for his big break but is stuck in a toxic existence where every situation or opportunity turns horribly bad. He’s a jerk but he is also the latest in the line of Coen Brothers’ persecuted protagonists. They seem to love torturing their leading men and Davis has it almost as bad as Larry Gopnick in A Serious Man.
So it is a film about the flipside of success, the thousands of nearlymen who make up the ladder by which the one or two climb to success. But I think the movie is primarily about the challenge of making a film where the lead character isn’t a lead character, and the story isn’t really a story. Throughout the film, various narrative avenues present themselves and each time you think, Ah, here we go, but each time the movie just goes straight on past them. It never takes the turn. It’s quite funny in places but not enough to be a comedy, desperate in others but not enough to be a tragedy. At various points scenes are staged so as to suggest that Davis is being offered a deal with the devil but he never takes it. Various visual metaphors present themselves, primarily a cat that Davis allows to escape from his home and can’t recover, but none of these take hold either.
Isaacs, an accomplished performer but not a star, is perfectly cast. The film is seen in some quarters as a paean to artistic integrity but it seems to me that Davis is driven by a need for fame, but he doesn’t have the star quality. This is emphasised by involving him in several obvious comedy moments, such as the moment a performer on stage announces we have a very special guest in the audience and Llewyn prepares to join them, reluctantly, for a song but then some else is mentioned. If he really was special I don’t think the Coens would be placing him in such routine bits of comedy.
It works through the excellence of the film making. The lead character rattles around aimlessly in a cinema world that is immaculately constructed. There isn't a shadow out of place. This wintry New York milieu is not conventionally visually stunning but these dull, damp landscapes are beautifully caught.
It is fascinating film to contemplate; arguably less so to watch. If you have ever dismissed the Coens as being clever clever, this is exactly the film you were thinking of. Even fans may find themselves a little frustrated by it; however they dress it up you’re on a road to nowhere.
