I would say almost always but, to be
diplomatic, let's say sometimes a work of fiction is better than a concerted
effort at adapting a non-fiction experience. One should not approach 2013's
Inside
Llewyn Davis as an attempt
to accurately convey the atmosphere of the Greenwich
Village folk music scene of the 1960s. Or even an accurate
portrait of a struggling musician in the 1960s--anymore than one should take
Miller's Crossing as an authentic portrayal of gangster
culture or Barton Fink as an insightful depiction of trying
to break into Hollywood screenwriting in the 1940s. Like those two films,
Inside Llewyn Davis is a fantasy created by the Coen
Brothers. It depicts an artist who loves his medium and who faces consistent
rejection from the world. It's not quite as impressive as either
Miller's Crossing or Barton Fink but even
a merely good Coen Brothers movie is great.
The film follows a folk singer, Llewyn Davis
(Oscar Isaac), who alternates between desperately trying to scrounge up gigs
and trying to scrounge up a bed to sleep in for the night. When the film
begins, he's been staying with a college professor called Gorfein (Ethan
Phillips) and his wife. When Llewyn leaves in the morning, the Gorfeins' cat
follows him out the door.
Llewyn also stays with Jim (Justin
Timberlake) and Jean (Carey Mulligan), a folk duo. Jean--Mulligan looking
fantastic with long black hair and bangs--is constantly angry, partly because
she's pregnant with what might be Llewyn's child. Mulligan gives one of the
better performances in the film. I was less impressed by Timberlake as Jim, who
came off a little broad for my taste. Both his and Llewyn's singing voices are
quite steeped in the mannerisms of modern R&B singers though they do make
some attempt to hide it. The anachronism didn't bother me as much as the fact
that I don't find such music interesting, particularly compared to 60s folk
music. Oscar Isaac sounds disappointingly like Jack Johnson.
The middle of the film follows Llewyn on a
road trip from New York to Chicago accompanied by John Goodman as a prickly,
erudite jazz musician called Roland Turner and a quiet misfit called Johnny
Five (Garrett Hedlund). It's another added to the long list of diverse and
memorable roles Goodman has played for Coen brothers films and one is
fascinated by the mean-spirited dandy who makes the trip miserable for the
already miserable Llewyn.
Jean is angry about getting pregnant by
Llewyn because she considers him a loser in contrast to her and Jim's plans to
turn their music talents into a successful career. Between Jean and Llewyn is
enacted the conflict between the artist as profession and the artist as an end
unto itself. Llewyn, despite the increasingly clear hopelessness at ever
reaching a large audience, continues performing in clubs and maintaining his
tramp-like lifestyle. Unlucky circumstances prevent him from stopping even when
he wants to.
Throughout the film, a tabby cat seems to
symbolise a sort of self-evident, zen-like peace with Llewyn being the musician
he is in the position he is in. Llewyn chases the cat who gets away from him
from time to time, doesn't always seem to understand why he has the cat,
sometimes carries the cat without having any idea why, and there seems to be a
deep, horrible gloom when he contemplates abandoning the cat. I wonder if it's
entirely a coincidence the cat resembles Audrey Hepburn's from
Breakfast at Tiffany's.
The film has the least interesting
production design of any Coen brothers movie I've seen. It doesn't have the
complex grime of Oh Brother Where Art Thou? or the intense
leather and felt beauty of Miller's Crossing.
Inside Llewyn Davis looks rather typical of too many designs
in modern films with even an apartment described by its resident as a
"dump" featuring pristinely painted walls and a clean sofa. It all
has a certain academic minimalism about it.
But the film is a nice meditation on being
an artist who is not a massive success yet can't stop being an artist anyway.
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