At this point in their careers, the Coen brothers have reached essentially the highest level of acclaim possible. They’ve made cult classics, award-winning dramas, and even a Best Picture winner. Not one, not two, but FOUR of their films-- The Big Lebowski, Fargo, O Brother Where Art Thou, and Raising Arizona-- are on my Top 100 Films list. Unfortunately, their success comes with some detraction. Many mainstream filmgoers nowadays see their movies as pretentious Oscar bait. And it’s understandable. After all, the main character in their new film, Inside Llewyn Davis, is played by a guy named Oscar Isaac. And it also has that bleak cinematography, solemn sense of humor, and enchanting musical score that some people balk at. I admit that movies like this are not for everyone, and it’s fine if you find it too slow or overdramatic. But for the serious filmgoer, Inside Llewyn Davis should not be missed.
Isaac, previously only known for minor roles in films like Drive and The Bourne Legacy, is absolutely electric as the title character, a folk singer/hobo who gets progressively worse off through the course of the movie. He’s a pathetic character, sure, but the audience never gets the feeling that the suffering is only being piled on for effect. When bad things happen to him, it’s always for a reason, and in this case that reason is to drive the plot (thin as it may be). There’s no real narrative that ties this movie together, and all it really is is an assemblage of the random events that happen to this guy in the span of roughly a week. Although it is sometimes disjointed, the charisma of the cast makes it work, and the transitions between scenes is practically seamless.
As always, the Coens bring some of the best music of the year to the table with this film, which isn’t surprising-- Not only is this movie all about music, but they’ve also given us great soundtracks in O Brother and The Big Lebowski. Inside Llewyn Davis does not disappoint at all here, and the music is treated with reverence and respect. Isaac is actually a very good singer, and from what I could see, he was actually playing the guitar as well. The music, and the venues in which it was played, felt very authentic and spot-on for the time. No songs are cut off halfway through, and they are never played in snippets. And when performers aren’t actually playing, there is rarely a soundtrack, giving the film a very realistic aura.
The cinematography, another thing the Coens are consistently spectacular with, is also stunning. There are great landscape shots during a psychedelic road trip sequence that totally convey the feeling of despondency to the audience. The sets are also awesome and very reminiscent of the time. The Gaslight Cafe in particular is certain to conjure up some memories for older baby boomers. The camera moves with sweeping and alluring gestures, giving the film a far more grandiose feel than its simple subject matter might suggest. In short, everything about the audio and the visual of this movie is utterly spectacular, to the point that characters and plot (dare I say it) almost don’t matter. It sucks you into its own little world, and it’s quite the experience.
Some of the dialogue is questionable at the more serious moments, but every comedic moment is hilarious and darkly funny. John Goodman, who I guess has signed a blood oath to appear in every Coen brothers movie ever made, is electric as an obnoxious jazz enthusiast/heroin addict. He’s one of the few actors that can actually grip you by sleeping onscreen. And it shows-- By the end of his brief time in the movie, he’s accomplished more in the background than most actors do by chewing the furniture. But the amazing thing about this movie, and most Coen brothers movies in general, is that each of the minor characters could easily support their own movie. From Troy, the robotic soldier and performer, to Al Cody, a somewhat unsettling vocalist, this movie is crammed with the memorable characters that we’ve come to expect from the Coen’s films. They’re not just archetypes or stereotypes, they have depth and quirks. And that’s what makes them great.
At the end of the day, there is essentially no plot to this movie. It just juggles different random things that happen to Davis, from unexpectedly being entrusted with a cat to taking a road trip to Chicago. It’s absolute chaos, and that’s what makes it beautiful. The little subplots and subtle nuances range from dark and depressing to downright hilarious. Nearly everything in their movies seems to work all the time, but the best part of Coen Brothers movies is the fact that throwaway lines can become instantly quotable. “Everything you touch turns to shit! Like King Midas’s fuck-up brother!” Small talk and minor exchanges really make this movie... plus a little cameo by Bob Dylan before he made it big.
Final Score for Inside Llewyn Davis: 8/10 stars. Until I decide on my favorite movie of the year, this will stay an eight like the others, but I will graduate my Best Picture winner to a 9/10 when I’ve decided. This film is high in the running, I must say, and once again cements the Coens as the best modern directors. It actually might be their best film since O Brother, and that’s saying a lot. It’s got a likable lead, amazing music, and some of the best dialogue of the year. What’s not to like?
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