There’s a wonderful moment in Inside Llewyn Davis, the latest film written and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, in which the titular Llewyn Davis, a vagabond folk musician in the pre-Bob Dylan folk scene in New York’s Greenwich Village, gets permission to crash on the couch of a fellow musician, Al Cody, whom he had only met hours before. Oscar Isaac, who plays Davis, touches the couch gently, as if to test it. He has a moment where his body language shows that he acknowledges “Yeah, this will do.” It more or less sums up Davis as a character — his whole life is reduced to finding something that will “do” for the moment and the next moment will be another hurdle.
Inside Llewyn Davis takes place in the winter of 1961, shortly before Dylan burst onto the Greenwich Village folk scene and became the figurehead of the “folk as pop music” movement of the early/mid sixties. Davis is a former member of a folk duo of some recognition, but when the film begins he is a couch-crashing, shabbily-dressed ne’er-do-well who can’t stay above water because he plays music that won’t sell. He receives some support from friends and acquaintances, including friend and fellow musician, Jim (Justin Timberlake), whose wife Jean (Carey Mulligan) has a rocky relationship with Davis because of a past affair, which she entirely blames on him. It’s interesting to see Isaac and Mulligan on screen together again after playing husband and wife in Drive, especially since their relationship is so different in this film (for one thing, Mulligan’s Jean in no shy violet in need of rescuing).
The film follows Davis as he desperately tries to make something out of a stagnant non-career over the course of a few days. The one thing that is apparent is that Davis is incredibly talented — like many films about musicians, the best part of Inside Llewyn Davis is the music, and Isaac, who performs all the music live, has the talent to slip back into that era, which is demonstrated in the film’s hypnotic musical sequences. But it isn’t so much that Davis can’t catch a break, the breaks he has can’t catch him. He lashes out at the people who try to help him the most, and he’s too afraid to face responsibility for his actions. Worse, he has nothing but contempt for musicians who appear to have it more together than he does, including the clean-cut Troy Nelson (Stark Sands), and takes advantage of those who are kind to him, like Al Cody (Adam Driver, who does so much with his small role).
The Coens fill the film with many of their typical human touches, which I always see as a kind of Grotesque Americana. They use minor characters like Davis’ manager Mel (Jerry Grayson) and his secretary Ginny (Sylvia Kauders) to create humor in usual Coen moments of absolute atmospheric brilliance. Mid-film Davis hooks up with a pair of jazz musicians, Roland Turner (Coen favorite John Goodman) and Johnny Five (Garret Hedlund) for a car ride to Chicago. Goodman’s Turner is an aggravating windbag, while Johnny Five silently strikes elaborate poses to try to look like James Dean as much as possible. You couldn’t have three less-alike people in one car (and in another wonderful touch, the cars in the film have pronounced old-fashioned engine rumbles), and the humor writes itself.
So when these great characters are mixed with wonderful music, the film’s incredibly authentic 1960s Greenwich Village atmosphere, stunning camerawork and lighting that makes every shot look like a 1960s album cover, one would expect a masterpiece. But Inside Lewlyn Davis falls short of that. Primarily it’s because the Coens have put us through journeys like this before which were more enjoyable and absorbing, but much of it also has to do with the fact that though Isaac is a great fit for the character, the movie is a portrait of a loser — Jean rightfully tells Davis that everything he touches “turns to shit, like King Midas’ fucked up brother.” And there’s nothing in the film that disputes that assessment. So Inside Lewlyn Davis ultimately is a series of Davis’ mistakes, many of which are cowardly. It gives the film a sense of aimlessness that makes it difficult to latch onto.
One of the Coens’ trademarks is often ending their films not so much unresolved but with a “life goes on” aspect to suggest that not much has changed for the characters in question despite the circumstances they faced in the film (this is one of the most brilliant things about the Coens’ Fargo, and has been used to varying effect in most of their subsequent films). Despite some rough circumstances the film’s circular narrative shows that he hasn’t changed much, in fact, because we know that Dylan’s brand of popular folk music pushed Davis’ type out of even its tiny limelight, we can guess that Davis’ career has already reached whatever “peak” it was going to reach.
Like most lovers of film, there are many Coen brothers films I hold in high regard. Inside Llewyn Davis isn’t among their best films, and probably doesn’t even rank among the second tier. However, that still places it above most films by a vast majority of other filmmakers out there. Most will enjoy it, and I definitely did, but it’s just a *good* film from a pair of filmmakers who normally make *great* films.
Rating: Though it’s not as wonderful as one would hope based on what the Coens have done before, Inside Llewyn Davis is wonderfully atmospheric and its style is better than its substance (7.5/10).
Recent Comments