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I love the Coen Brothers. This isn't news to anyone who knows me. Their films have a way with me. Between their movies' eclectic cast of characters, and unique, often meandering, method to storytelling, I find that the Coens tend to speak to me in a way other directors just don't quite achieve.
Inside Llewyn Davis is
no exception to that rule, and not only is it one of the best films to come out
of 2013, but it is one of my favorite films from the Coens' entire career. This film follows Llewyn, a struggling folk
musician in the early 1960s. Llewyn is,
quite bluntly, an asshole. He bums from
couch to couch, seemingly only taking up space as his friends and acquaintances
only begrudgingly accommodate him.
Llewyn is an incredibly talented singer, but he can't seem to bring his
act outside of the same old dingy bar.
His manager doesn't do anything useful for him, his sister doesn't want
him being a bad influence on her son, and his closest friend won't stop
berating him for being responsible for her pregnancy. Oh yeah, and he carries around a cat that he
accidently let out of his friends' apartment.
This is a movie about the pain of a struggling
musician. Without giving away too much,
Llewyn has very good reasons for his depression, much deeper than anything that
could be characterized as a mere artistic melancholy. The characters Llewyn meets in his journey of
self discovery are the medium by which Llewyn can see his pain reflected back
at him. Some are reflections of a past
he would rather not remember; others are looks into the future to see what kind
of person he could become. The people
closest to him are constant reminders of how the present could hardly look
bleaker. As his friend Jean says, he's
like King Midas's idiot brother.
Everything he touches turns to shit.
That isn't to say that the film isn't without its comedic
side. Dark humor pervades this film's
dialogue, as Llewyn hides his sorrow behind a veneer of sarcasm and insults
that are hard not to chuckle at. The
humor is equal parts awkward and mean-spirited, and it works well with the
film's cynical nature. This is only even
better served when a comedic moment revolves around one of the side characters
simply being an odd example of humanity, or the begrudged feline sidekick being
a surprisingly significant character.
But what is film about a musician worth without the music? I
wasn't kidding when I said that Llewyn is a talented singer, and there are many
musical performances to back up that assertion, all of them beautiful. He has such a perfect voice for folk music,
and the music acts as the perfect conduit for Llewyn to express the sorrow that
he can't seem to voice to anyone else. It
makes Llewyn into the relatable character that the audience needs him to be, and
it makes one genuinely care about his struggle.
Speaking of which, Oscar Isaac sorely deserved an Oscar
nomination for his performance as Llewyn Davis, and it's a damn shame that the
Academy saw fit to pass over this film entirely. "Please Mr. Kennedy" should easily
have been a contender for Best Original Song, and the Coens should have at
least have been a nominee for Best Screenplay, Best Directing, and Best
Picture. The last five minutes in
particular are so wonderfully powerful that it ties the entire film together
into a bar of cinematic gold.
Do I recommend this film?
Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes YES! Get
a hold of a copy of this film as soon as you possibly can. Seriously.
It's that good.
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