(USA, 105
min.)
Written and directed by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, Justin
Timberlake, Garrett Hedlund, John Goodman.
 |
| Oscar Isaac in Joel and Ethan Coen’s' Inside Llewyn Davis. Photo: Alison Rosa ©2012 Long Strange Trip LLC |
“Ah, if you make a living out of it, more power to you,”
says the boorish Roland (played by a riotously larger than life John Goodman)
when Llewyn Davis (a revelatory Oscar Isaac) explains his profession to be that
of a folk singer. Ornery folks like Roland might assume there isn’t much money
to be had in composing eclectic and arty ballads that have something to say,
but the beautiful music of Inside Llewyn
Davis proves that business is a boomin’ in the folk scene. Inside Llewyn Davis is the latest effort
from the brotherly filmmaking team of Joel Coen and Ethan Coen and it’s easily
one of their best. And they made Fargo
and No Country for Old Men. A man
making a living with folk music tells stories of common Americans with cadence
and candour, and the Coens have done exactly that. Inside Llewyn Davis is true folk.
Inside Llewyn Davis is a standout among the many great films about music that have hit the screen this year. Documentaries from 20 Feet from Stardom to Muscle Shoals have shone the spotlight on the unsung heroes of the music business and unearthed the social history of popular music with toe-tapping insight. On the dramatic side of things, Belgium’s The Broken Circle Breakdown offers an easy highlight for conveying the transformative power of songs. Inside Llewyn Davis fits comfortably with its brethren this movie year in that it encapsulates a clear mellow chord of the music business and finds the larger depth and meaning behind the words of a soulful song. One doesn’t know quite what expect at the prospect of seeing a “Coen Brothers musical,” but Inside Llewyn Davis doesn’t even feel like a musical at all: it’s more like concert film, that lets the audience gab about the music between sets. It probably goes swell with a Guinness.
The film is an easy reminder for why brothers Coen are
frequently dubbed as some of the best filmmakers working today. Inside Llewyn Davis might be one of the
greatest films ever made about music. Like the best episode of Mad Men, Inside Llewyn Davis transports the viewer back to the 1960s, when
everyone smoked, when pregnant women drank, and when America was in the midst
of a cultural shift. Inside Llewyn Davis
dramatizes a week in the life of folk musician Llewyn Davis as he struggles to
make ends meet in the Greenwich Village folk scene circa 1961. Cinematographer
Bruno Debonnel (who replaced the Coens’ regular DP Roger Deakins since Deakins
was away shooting Skyfall) captures
the era with the glow of old photographs and shoots the musical numbers with
warmth and style. The cinematography in the film’s beatnik dives is truly
marvellous. Inside Llewyn Davis is a
great period piece with an eye and ear for the time.
Llewyn Davis is a fine folk singer, having cut a few records
before the story begins, but he might have been one of those artists who had
the misfortune of simply being ahead of his time. Folk is the big fad in the
Village, as the mellow lyrics and plucky strings echo pleas for peace and
harken back to ye olde days before the bomb. Llewyn isn’t doing too well when
the pin drops on his story, though, for Inside
Llewyn Davis shows a week in the life of this starving artist that ends
almost the same as it begins. Llewyn had potential, yes, but his partner jumped
off a bridge for reasons undisclosed (he probably saw the future a folk singer
might have) and his career never quite got back on track.
Llewyn finds himself on a kind of quixotic quest as goes
from gig to gig and from couch to couch, making ends meet by scoring free room
and board, plus the occasional job on the side. He’s joined in his odyssey
across America by a furry orange feline named Ulysses. Ulysses the cat is a
true scene-stealer, as he does for cats in Inside
Llewyn Davis what Uggie did for pooch performers in The Artist. Llewyn Davis must be a soothing soul, for this kitty
remains extremely calm and docile in his care—Ulysses even keeps it cool whilst
riding the subway whereas most other cats would scream bloody murder while
riding in a car. There must be some kind of mutually understood kinship between
the cat and the balladeer who keeps it in his care.
This animal performer isn’t pure dog tricks, though. The cat
is symbolic of Llewyn’s aimlessness and his loserly ability to keep his life on
track. On the road of his travels, Llewyn discovers that he’s fathered at least
two children, one of which is now a full-fledged toddler that has never met its
father. He also learns that he’s the baby-daddy for the accidental foetus
floating in the belly of Jean (a feisty Carey Mulligan), who lets Llewyn crash
for a few days in the apartment she shares with her husband. As Llewyn holds
onto the squirmy feline (Ulysses is an escapee of one of Llewyn’s other hosts),
the wandering poet learns the consequences that accompany the freedom of his
eclectic drift through the land. This cat might be the greatest invention of
the Coen canon since Marge Gunderson in Fargo,
if only for the golden line of “Where’s his scrotum?!” that stands out amongst
the rest of film’s immensely quotable script.
Not to be upstaged by his feline friend, Oscar Isaac gives
an excellent performance as Llewyn Davis. Isaac, perhaps best known for his
performance as Carey Mulligan’s ex-con husband in Drive, gives a smoothly soulful turn as the weary, yet cautiously
optimistic Davis. Isaac performs several musical numbers throughout the film,
offering mellow vocals that transport the viewer to a different era. Mulligan
is equally good in her supporting turn as Jean, matching Isaac on the dry black
comedy of the Coens’ script and acing the vocal performances that form the life
force of the film. (Her performance of “Five Hundred Miles” is almost as
captivating as her smoky rendition of “New York, New York” in Shame.)
Other highlights in the ensemble, which is cast to
perfection in every role right down to the old crusty secretary working at the
recording studio, include Garrett Hedlund as a distant relative of his On the Road wanderer Dean Moriarty named
Johnny Five and John Goodman as the hilarious loudmouth Roland. Goodman all but
steals the show from Ulysses during the peculiar road trip at the film’s
centre. Justin Timberlake also provides a memorable turn in a small role as one
of Llewyn’s fellow recording artists.
Timberlake adds his vocals to the film’s number “Please Mr.
Kennedy,” which is easily the highlight of the film’s musical sequences. The
song features Adam Driver doing some back-up vocals that are so ridiculously
cheesy that they make the whole of “Please Mr. Kennedy” work. The song appears
when Llewyn needs some quick cash and nabs a gig to record a silly ditty.
Llewyn, like one artist too many at the time, waives his rights to royalties in
order to be paid up front. He laughs at the tune that provides the easy paycheck,
but while “Please Mr. Kennedy” might not have the depth or resonance of
Llewyn’s performance of “Hang Me, Oh Hang Me,” it’s a riotously entertaining
tune that nevertheless voices the politics of the era. It just does so with a
funky commercial vibe. Everyone says it’s going to make Llewyn a bundle. If
only they knew.
The Coens manage to capture each facet of the evolution of
folk and its place in time with each song that appears on the soundtrack. The
music by T-Bone Burnett, Marcus Mumford et al is an exceptional study in both
the role that storytelling plays in folk music and of the deceptive simplicity
the music uses in speaking to the crowds. (Mumford’s performance of “Fare Thee
Well” with Isaac is another highlight on the soundtrack.) Inside Llewyn Davis easily boasts the best playlist of the year,
with most, if not all, of the songs enjoying some kind of narrative and
thematic significance. Inside Llewyn
Davis is vinyl as far as movies go.
A viewer who was alive during the time in which Inside Llewyn Davis is set—or, better
yet, was living in Greenwich Village during the time in which the film is set—might appreciate the film to the
fullest of its potential, but the songs offer an instantly accessible route
into the film’s fascinating study of this era of music. Much like bluegrass
ballads of The Broken Circle Breakdown,
the folk songs of Inside Llewyn Davis
offer access points that let the film speak to the audience as directly as the
songs do to the characters.
The film itself drips with the illusorily effortlessness of
folk music, as Inside Llewyn Davis
initially appears to simply an episodic study of the life of some wandering
beatnik. The film, however, takes the audience by surprise in a late act turn
when, in decidedly Coen Brothers fashion, Lleywn’s story takes a familiar turn.
It seems as if this is a story we’ve seen before as a reprise sets Llewyn on a similar song and voyage down a back alley, except that it plays out with
the characters sharing the sense of déjà
vu and with a character who adds a frame of reference to Llewyn's story. But watch closely: it all lies in the cat.
Inside Llewyn Davis
makes one tip one’s hat to the brothers Coen, for the pair has made a career
out of the artistic ambition at which Roland seems to scoff. They make for
movies what Llewyn Davis makes for music, and more power to them for delivering
a film as artfully ambitious and original as Inside Llewyn Davis is after their 2010 blockbuster True Grit. They could have made anything
following the success of that film, yet
Inside Llewyn Davis might be the most accessibly academic film to hit art
house cinemas this year. It’s grand and smart, featuring a unique appreciation
for body, atmosphere, and character. All it needs is a set of elbow patches for
its tweed blazer, and Llewyn Davis
could lecture at the academy.
Rating: ★★★★½ (out of ★★★★★)
Rating: ★★★★½ (out of ★★★★★)
Inside Llewyn Davis opens in Ottawa at The ByTowne on December 26.
