In 2007, “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story,” hit theaters and ruined the musical biopic forever.
No one was safe. “Ray,” “La Bamba,” you name it; whatever the movie, “Walk Hard” probably skewered it in some fashion or another. But no film felt the presence of “Walk Hard” more than James Mangold’s Johnny Cash biopic “Walk the Line.”
I am a noted “Walk the Line” defender, but it would be lying to say that “Walk Hard” didn’t hit the nail on the head when it comes to biopic tropes, particularly those about complicated male musicians and their vices. “A Complete Unknown,” Mangold’s newest foray into the music biopic, is not as good as “Walk the Line,” and that makes “Walk Hard” a little more difficult to banish from your mind as you watch.
And yet, I sort of love the fact that Mangold is clearly unaffected by the existence of “Walk Hard.” “A Complete Unknown,” which tells the story of Bob Dylan, changes up the structure slightly – it doesn’t follow his entire life, and instead of some sort of addiction threatening to ruin his career, it’s his interest in rock and roll.
But those same old tropes – nagging girlfriend, tortured genius who no one understands, etc. – still pop up throughout. Despite all that, “A Complete Unknown” is perfectly enjoyable, although it sometimes feels more like a glorified concert than a movie – something Mangold, who is particularly wonderful at staging a performance for the screen, can sort of get away with. But the biggest problem “A Complete Unknown” runs into time and time again is that it can’t get past the legendary status of its central figure.
“A Complete Unknown” stars Timothée Chalamet as Bob Dylan, following his ascendant rise from that titular descriptor in 1961 to the infamous night he went electric at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival (the movie, co-written by Mangold and Jay Cocks, is based on Elijah Wald’s book “Dylan Goes Electric! Newport, Seeger, Dylan, and the Night That Split the Sixties”). The film also focuses on Dylan’s relationships with the likes of Seeger (Edward Norton), his on-and-off girlfriend Sylvie (Elle Fanning, based on Suze Rotolo), and Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro).
Part of what makes “Walk the Line” work, even in spite of the existence of something like “Walk Hard,” is the strength of the two-hander at its center. It may start out as a film about Johnny Cash (Joaquin Phoenix), but as soon as June Carter (Reese Witherspoon) enters the picture, their relationship takes focus. That relationship gives the most insight into Johnny Cash The Man vs. Johnny Cash The Legend. Pair that with Cash’s addiction issues, and you’ve got a set-up that, even though it might be tropey, is inherently full of dramatic tension.
The thing about Dylan going electric is that, while it might have been the biggest deal in the world at the time, the build up to the moment in the film isn’t wrought with tension and anticipation the way you want it to be. That being said, the moment itself is undeniably riveting, the camera deftly moving from Dylan and his band playing the music we all now know and love, to the passionate reaction of the crowd, to the scrambling backstage to find some way to stop the show – all swirling together in a cacophony of cinematic prowess.
Sometimes “A Complete Unknown” feels more like a progression of songs than it does an actual story, but Mangold is quite adept at capturing the enigmatic ingredient that makes a live performance special. With the help of cinematographer Phedon Papamichael behind the camera, Mangold stages beautiful, backlit silhouetted moments for performers who are actually singing and playing, adding a layer of rawness to the moment.
But when the musical scene calls for a greater emotion outside of the performance is where “A Complete Unknown” really shines. In the film’s best scene, Sylvie decides to join Bob at the Newport Folk Festival, despite their having broken up some time ago and despite him having a constant back and forth with Joan Baez. Sylvie starts out optimistic, excited at the prospect of fixing this relationship that has caused her so much strife for so many years. Standing backstage, she watches Bob and Joan sing “It Ain’t Me Babe,” and we watch that optimism fade from her face as she slowly realizes she has played herself for a fool.
The best moments outside of the musical set pieces in “A Complete Unknown” have to do with the love triangle between Sylvie, Bob and Joan. But sometimes, the movie doesn’t seem to quite realize what it has. Sylvie suffers the most from this. The reason the above moment works so well is because Fanning is a capable actress, not because she actually has much to work with – for the half hour or so prior to that moment, she essentially hasn’t been in the movie at all. As Joan Baez, Barbaro has a bit more to do, and her soft intensity, and in particular her chemistry with Chalamet, is extremely compelling.
The disjointed moments of the dynamics between these three characters are far more interesting than anything that has to do with Dylan going electric. Chalamet is more exciting in his scenes with the two women as well – funnier, more comfortable, a little less mannered. He also excels in his moments onstage, staring into the crowd with an intensity that he’s never really harnessed before. It’s not brooding, or pensive – it feels almost combative, like he’s daring you to look away. That kind of abrasiveness onstage feels authentic to Dylan.
Dylan has been so canonized in American culture, more akin to a counter-cultural, musical Superman than an actual human being. The biggest failure of “A Complete Unknown” is its content to let him stay that way, forever a mirage in sunglasses riding away on a motorcycle. At the end of the day, although he might do legend well, Chalamet doesn’t actually have too much humanity to work with, leaning heavily on his own charms – and his ability to do a voice. Bob Dylan’s story is told in folksy vignettes, from meeting Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie (an exceptional Scoot McNairy) for the first time in a hospital room, to telling Joan Baez he ran away and joined a carnival as a young boy right before he plays her “Blowin’ in the Wind” for the first time. Bob Dylan’s ability to mythologize himself is unmatched. “A Complete Unknown” doesn’t try to unpack that myth, but rather canonize it further.