By now, you’ve probably heard about James Mangold’s new film “A Complete Unknown.” And if you’re like me, your first thought was likely, “A film biography of Bob Dylan? Impossible! There’s simply too much material there to cover in a two-hour timeframe.” And you know what? We would be correct. But Mangold (who co-wrote the screenplay with Jay Cocks) wisely concentrates only on the first few years of Dylan’s long and storied career. And let’s face it, that’s the interesting part anyway. The man’s been on self-imposed cruise control for most of my lifetime.
Armed with only his guitar and a few dollars in his pocket, Dylan first came to New York in 1961, where he immediately befriended folk music legends Woodie Guthrie and Pete Seeger. His imaginative lyrics, earthy voice, and pragmatic delivery endeared him to the folk music community, and he became one of the genre’s biggest stars. At the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, Dylan shocked his fans (and made a legion of new ones) when he “went electric” and developed his own unique rock-n-roll sound.
As a sidenote, Dylan’s conversion from folk to rock is likely blown out of proportion with the passing years. Although I wasn’t there, it’s probably more a footnote to Dylan’s career than the life-shattering, history-altering event some music aficionados have made it out to be. Much as with Queen’s performance at the 1985 Live Aid concert chronicled in the 2018 film “Bohemian Rhapsody,” Dylan’s ’65 Newport appearance most likely didn’t rise to the level of importance depicted in the film.
As the young, talented troubadour, Timothee Chalamet has the thankless task of portraying a moody, introverted brainiac who’s usually in a bad mood and has a tendency to treat those closest to him with disdain. Chalamet mumbles through his lines exactly as Dylan does, rarely making eye contact with others, and constantly composing lyrics. We learn early in “A Complete Unknown” that Dylan doesn’t (or simply can’t) make close personal connections with anyone. Girlfriend Sylvie (Elle Fanning) tries her darndest to get inside the head of this budding star, only to be rejected with a “screw you” shrug, followed by a subsequent return to his guitar, pen, and paper. Dylan feels more comfortable composing than interacting – even, and perhaps especially, in the presence of others.
Chalamet does an admirable job, given the material with which he has to work. “A Complete Unknown” is a triumph for Chalamet more because this is his first real “adult” role – rather than for the performance itself. Remember, Chalamet – along with Lucas Hedges – has been Hollywood’s go-to guy for late-teens roles during the past six or eight years. And while he was very good in “Lady Bird,” “Call Me by Your Name,” Beautiful Boy,” and “Little Women,” it’s great to see him cross that bridge from teen actor to adult actor – a huge jump which stifles the careers of many young stars.
Now, here’s the dilemma Mangold faces with “A Complete Unknown:” With such an unlikeable and unreachable protagonist, who but the most devoted Dylan fans would want to sit through two hours of shoulder shrugs and disinterested stammer – even if he is one of the greatest songwriters who ever lived? This is the same quandary faced by James Marsh when he made “The Theory of Everything,” the 2014 biopic of theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking, confined to a wheelchair and unable to speak for most of his life. Marsh and screenwriter Anthony McCarten had to find some way to bring his mute voice and brilliant mind to the masses; to cause us to care about a man whose theories cannot be dumbed down for the common man. Enter Hawking’s wife Jane, played by Felicity Jones. In the film’s pivotal performance, Jones brought the Hawking character down to our level. She made him seem human and kind; she brought out his sense of humor and wit. We needed the character of Jane in order to relate to Hawking.
Same with “A Complete Unknown.” And fulfilling that role here is Edward Norton as veteran folk singer-songwriter Pete Seeger, a man blacklisted in the 1950s for his association with the Communist Party and for his unwillingness to implicate others for their involvement. In this film’s pivotal (and best) performance, Norton fully embodies Seeger’s inherently sunny and positive outlook – the complete antithesis to that of Dylan. It was Seeger, more than anyone else, who was responsible for bringing Dylan to the attention of first the folk music community, and then the world. Seeger knew talent when he saw it.
He welcomes the young minstrel to his home, where Dylan spends time with Seeger, his wife, and children. He shares career advice with Dylan. And gives his prime exposure during the 1963 Newport Folk Festival. Yes, Seeger’s demeanor is intrinsically upbeat, but he would never lose his devotion to the causes of social justice, civil rights, and the environment. This is Norton’s meatiest role since “Motherless Brooklyn,” and he makes the most of it.
Also strong is Monica Barbaro as fellow folkie Joan Baez. Baez promotes several of Dylan’s early compositions on her records and in her concerts, even dueting with Dylan at Newport and other festivals. And while it’s true Dylan and Baez have a relationship, it never blossoms into anything longlasting because of Dylan’s indifference to her advances and his downright rudeness to a woman who gives willingly of herself to further his career. Dylan even goes so far as to criticize her brand of folk music as too sweet and pretty. He wanted more edge. That works for him; it would not for Baez.
Boyd Holbrook is okay as country music legend Johnny Cash. It’s not the spot-on interpretation Joaquin Phoenix gave us in 2005’s “Walk the Line” (also directed by Mangold), but it captures the essence of Cash’s rebellious personality. On more than one occasion, Cash advises Dylan to “go ahead and track a little dirt on the carpet.” The recalcitrant country singer advising the recalcitrant folk singer. And sure enough, Dylan has often done certain things in life for no other reason than someone advised him not to – such as cut a rock ‘n’ roll album.
Scoot McNairy is very good as folk legend Woodie Guthrie, dying of Huntington’s disease in a New Jersey hospital for the entire duration of “A Complete Unknown.” McNairy’s Guthrie doesn’t utter a single word yet expresses himself better than Dylan. Dan Fogler is also noteworthy for his comedic turn as Dylan’s early-career manager, Albert Grossman.
“A Complete Unknown” isn’t this year’s best film. But it’s a damn sight better than just about any other recent portrait of a famous musician. Notice I don’t call it a biopic. This is not “Rocket Man,” which painted the wide canvas of Elton John’s entire career. “A Complete Unknown” is a snapshot in time, successfully capturing the character and significance of one of our greatest songwriters at the earliest stage of his illustrious career.
