In recent times, biopics have become a trend that has defined Hollywood, and since the illustrious Bohemian Rhapsody, which examined the extraordinary Queen frontman Freddie Mercury, it feels like they’ve become a genre that’s simply too oversaturated.
James Mangold’s new biopic, however, A Complete Unknown has thankfully risen above the paradigm of era-defining and often controversial music stars getting a film. The director’s approach is refreshing, not looking to span across the whole life of Bob Dylan, but instead selecting the years from 1961 to 1965 associating the beginning of his career with folk and ending that period with a new sound, electric.
Timothee Chalamet plays Dylan superbly. There is a dazzling eccentricity about his performance that when he lands on screen, the whole room falls silent, faces drawn towards his charisma. He also manages to get Dylan’s rugged voice spot on, working with Hollywood renowned voice-coach, Eric Vetro, to add extra texture and a more compelling nature to his now Oscar-nominated performance. Mangold pays testament to the title, A Complete Unknown, as there are bounds of enigma surrounding the mystical 20-year-old. As his girlfriend, Sylvie Russo, (Elle Fanning) laments, we learn nothing about his past and character, but this deliberate choice is refreshing for the genre. Dylan was a mere spectacle, and the dazzling lights of 1961 New York yielded a lens of phenomena.
Edward Norton is also great as Pete Seeger, a musician infatuated by the melodic beauty and comfort of folk, but also the reluctance to let it go. We see him take Dylan to the Big Apple, where he’s introduced to industry greats propelling both his stardom and skill. Here, Dylan meets Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), who vividly reminded me of Reese Witherspoon’s June Carter in Mangold’s 2005 picture Walk The Line, a biopic on the brilliant Johnny Cash. In that film, he’s played by Joaquin Phoenix but this time, it’s the more rugged Boyd Holbrook who fulfils the role. Returning to Norton though, there’s a bona fide emotion to his performance that when Dylan does eventually venture into the electric scene, you feel he’s abandoning the person that made him. This causes quite comically for one member of the crowd to even proclaim “You’re Judas!’ on stage at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. They hate Dylan for it, but the act is a testament to his skill in using music as ammunition for social change, ultimately seeing him transform American music for eternity.
However, whilst Dylan was the propeller of change, Mangold does end with a lovely cyclicality in devotion to Woody Guthrie, the pioneer’s first inspiration. Chain-smoking cigarettes and acoustic strums provide a poignant ending handled with gratitude and love. A beautiful shot composed of Dylan riding away on his trusty motorbike behind a metal fence symbolises that he’s finally been released, just like a rolling stone.
When I entered the cinema for A Complete Unknown, formulas of previous, dull biopics came to mind but instead I left satisfied, and grateful to learn about the remarkable rise of one of America’s greats, Bob Dylan.
