A Complete Unknown succeeds in every way Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis biopic resoundingly failed. Unlike that wrongheaded misfire, director James Mangold (who co-writes with Jay Cocks) realizes that no one film could capture the sheer scope of Bob Dylan’s epic life and outsized influence. As such, the best we could ever hope for is a concentrated effort to depict the enigmatic figure at its center. With that in mind, Mangold pulls out a crucial piece from Dylan’s puzzle in the hopes that it will tell us something about the whole picture. The result is a startlingly effective film that transcends the confines of a traditional biopic.
Adapted from the book Dylan Goes Electric by Elijah Wald, Unknown begins in 1961. Bob Dylan (Timothée Chalamet) is lean and green, but already bursting with talent and ego. He hitches to New York to meet his hero, folk bard Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy). At this point, Guthrie is confined to a hospital bed, gripped in the final stages of Huntington’s Disease. Dylan plays “Song for Woody,” a touching ballad of admiration for his idol. His skill catches the ear of someone else in the room: Folk icon Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), best known for hits such as “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”, is immediately taken with Dylan’s raw genius. Seeger takes him in like a shaggy, imbued stray.
Over the next year, Dylan will introduce himself to the New York folk scene. His original music already pulsates with brilliant wordplay and topical edginess. Audiences soon buzz with excitement. This includes Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), herself an upcoming folk singer. She’s instantly drawn to Dylan’s immense talent and off-kilter charisma. They embark on a rocky, on-off relationship that will endure its share of personal and professional crashes.
Dylan gains another important love interest in Sylvie Russo (Elle Fanning). (Russo is essentially a stand-in for real-life Suze Rotolo.) She’s the artist who stokes Dylan’s political consciousness. This provides heavy influence for songs such as “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are A-Changin.'” She loves Dylan, but is also frustrated by his aloofness and flighty behavior.
As Dylan’s star grows, he slowly becomes frustrated with his appointed role as generational spokesman. The film’s key conflict involves Dylan’s transition away from solo folk material to a full rock band. His decision to plug in an electric guitar ignites a fury in the folk community, who view songs like “Maggie’s Farm” and “Tombstone Blues” as an all-out betrayal. This puts Dylan into a creative and spiritual crisis between where he wants his music to go and what his audience (and musical forbears) expects from him.
Mangold correctly uses this small sample size to convey the freewheeling brilliance and fuck-all attitude that would make Dylan a socio-cultural icon. It also means we catch Dylan atop the first of many peaks of his career. Landmark songs fill the soundtrack, including “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” and “Subterranean Homesick Blues.” Dylan had a dizzying, dazzling onslaught of material from 62-65, and Mangold makes sure we hear most of the highlights.
That brings up an important point: The high rating atop this review should tell you I’m a fairly serious Dylan fan. If you don’t share that same fandom, it’s fair to subtract at least one full star. Ironically, this also explains why I was so hard on Elvis. I’m a lifelong listener of The King, which explains my profound disappointment in that film’s histrionic and insubstantial approach to its subject.
It also made me reluctant to initially embrace A Complete Unknown. I worried another slapdash biopic would cheapen everything special about Dylan. Thankfully, my fears quickly dissolved. Chalamet is perfect as the cocky young troubadour. He never falls into the trap of an all-out imitation, but he still captures just enough of Dylan’s nasally Midwestern twang to keep us hooked. Even more impressive: Chalamet does all his own singing and guitar work. This is a very, very difficult role, as Bob Dylan was a force of personality–both as man and musician. Chalamet absolutely nails it on both fronts.
As for the supporting players, Norton effectively plays Seeger as a genteel, grounded caretaker of the entire folk genre. He must placate the old guard, who insist that a folk poet only use a guitar and a harmonica. Meanwhile, Seeger admires Dylan’s ballsiness and sheer mastery. Ever shrewd, Seeger knows that if the revolution is to come, it will probably arrive on the edge of Dylan’s lyrical knife. I also enjoyed Boyd Holbrook as a wild, stumbling Johnny Cash, who advises young Dylan to “track some mud on the carpet.” Finally, Barbaro is impressive, playing Baez as stuck between loving Dylan’s unhinged genius and annoyed with the mercurial eccentricities that fuel it.
If I must ding Unknown anywhere, then it’s with the de facto depiction of Suze Rotolo. The story begins with Rotolo as a vital presence in Dylan’s evolution and ascent. As time goes on, Mangold settles for showing her as the hen-pecking girlfriend. We repeatedly see her offstage, teary-eyed and jealous of Dylan’s intense chemistry with Joan Baez. Fanning does admirably as the character, even if Mangold slowly reduces her to one dimension.
But that’s only a small ding in an otherwise great movie. A Complete Unknown somehow offers enough to please devoted Bob Dylan fans and ignite the curiosity of newcomers. Of course, this is just a sampler of the man’s life. (We don’t even make it far enough to meet The Band, after all.) Still, it offers enough insight into Dylan as a creative wanderer who spends a lifetime searching and pushing the boundaries. At first glance, this might look like a formulaic biopic, but don’t be fooled: A Complete Unknown is a surprising masterwork.
141 min. R. Disney+.
