Review: Inside Llewyn Davis

BY BLUE KAUFMAN

In the strange mixed-up world of the Coen brothers, one never really knows what to expect. There’s just something about their knack for storytelling, their ability to create new universes for each of their characters somehow detached from the rest of the world that makes their films so utterly singular and unique. Still, while their success over the years has allowed them larger budgets, their creativity remains as admirable as ever.  Well written, beautifully crafted, and genuinely sincere, Inside Llewyn Davis (released on December 20) provides the two brothers with yet another opportunity to carve their names into the walls of cinematic history.

It’s Greenwich, New York in 1961, when we come to meet Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac), a determined folk singer trying to make a career out of his music. He’s siphoning off the favors of his now dwindling list of friends (Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake) and is barely scraping by with an occasional gig. Stubbornly clutching his ideas of artistic integrity, he walks the streets of the frost-licked city desperately trying the close the gaps of his past.

The films melancholy narrative is only amplified by its visuals and in Inside Llewyn Davis it seems as though the entire set was dipped in gray paint and then covered in a blanket of snow. With no home, no fans, and no winter coat, it’s hard to comprehend why our main character would choose such a life until we hear him perform. Strumming his guitar and wistfully singing the tunes, you can see that it is the only place he feels truly alive and songs like “Fare thee Well,” “The Shoals of Herring” and even “Please, Mr. Kennedy” float like honey throughout the film, adding a lightness to a setting that so desperately needs more of it. Though overwhelmed by bleakness, the film also includes numerous instances of comedic relief, most notably a tabby cat that unwaveringly disrupts Llewyn’s already turbulent lifestyle.

Still, the movie draws its audience in mostly because Llewyn Davis isn’t a character that is easily defined. He’s not maliciously cruel or  self-destructive, but at the same time, he’s not exactly the pleasant and encouraging artist that we would usually expect from a hopeful musician. Throughout the film, we juggle both feelings of sympathy and dislike for our main character as he fights hopelessness that threatens to swallow him up. While the plot (or lack thereof) may seem too unfocused at times, Oscar Isaac makes up for it by portraying the multifaceted complexities of Llewyn Davis with ease.

Somewhere in this seemingly endless cycle of obscurity, Llewyn bluntly states “I’m so ****ing tired,” which in a way, really sums up the film. You can tell from the sadness that hangs in his voice and the grief permanently etched into his face, that he needs so much more than just sleep.  And we get it. This feeling of just wanting to let go, to leave and give up is something we can all relate to and so in a way, his story is a universal one. While the film may lack the mockery of Barton Fink, the script of Fargo, or the high stakes of Miller’s Crossing, the Coen Brothers add something completely fresh to their palate with Inside Llewyn Davis– a character in which we can identify with.

Despite the subtle implications that Llewyn’s career might somehow splutter into success, the Coens show no such mercy.  This is not a film with a happily ever after and although Inside Llewyn Davis may fill you with frustration, it’s also oddly gratifying to finally get a film that doesn’t make the mistake of patronizing its audience. In the end, you come to realize that this isn’t a movie intended to entertain. It isn’t about Llewyn’s experiences, the people he meets, or any life lessons he might have learned along the way. Inside Llewyn Davis is simply a soulful portrait, a poetic tribute to a man and his music.