A Complete Unknown (2024)

Directed by James Mangold Drama/Biopic R 2h 21m

Something somewhat strange happened to me when I saw “A Complete Unknown”. I have never been a Bob Dylan die-hard, although I do deeply respect his writing and will boldly state that several of the songs, he penned are some of the greatest ever written. But listening to him on a regular basis? Not until the past year, during which my appreciation for his vocals has grown. So then why on earth, almost every time one of his songs was played, did I tear up? Perhaps the answer is as enigmatic as the musician, himself. For the entire 2 hour and 20-minute runtime of the film, I was captivated, transfixed, and transported to a bygone era – an era where record labels and album profits played second fiddle to the art. At the end of the day, director James Mangold does with “A Complete Unknown” what few directors of musician biopics refuse to do; strip away the contemporary commentary and leave us with the music. The music of Bob Dylan transcends time. It captures the raw emotions and struggles of the human experience that resonates deeply across generations. His poignant lyrics and lamenting melodies evoke a sense of nostalgia and an even more profound sense of longing. In every strum of the guitar, every puff of his harmonica and every lyric that is sung, Dylan’s songs serve as a timeless mirror, reflecting the hopes, heartaches, and dreams that will always unite us.

I never would have written the above passage, had “A Complete Unknown” not awakened an emotional connection to Bob Dylan that I never realized I had growing inside me these recent months. But within the first five minutes, everything I love about history, everything I love about music and pop culture of our past, everything I love about nostalgia, and everything I love about cinema and art itself, introduced me to a part of myself that I never knew – or perhaps never acknowledged – existed. The ingredients for me to love the movie were all there. James Mangold directed “Ford v. Ferrari” – one of my favorite movies of 2019, and “Walk the Line” which is considered one of the greatest musician biopics of the century. I have loved Timothée Chalamet since 2017 when I first saw him in “Call Me By Your Name” and “Lady Bird”. And it is jam packed with beautifully-performed music. So, if you will indulge me in what is likely to be my most rambling review for some time, I’ll unpack the highs and lows of “A Complete Unknown” – and why I believe it to be one of the great dramatizations of an artist in recent memory.

Let’s start with Chalamet, because I don’t think I fully capture why this movie worked so well for me without devoting a passage to his acting arc. I’ll state the obvious first: Timothée Chalamet is a unique character. But that is not secluded to just him. Every artist to some degree has their uniqueness, and personality quirks. I understand that he is essentially an acquired taste, but what I find interesting is that it is not explicitly a generational divide. For those who are able to look beyond the slight awkwardness of a young actor in the 21^stcentury, they find a young man who is full to the brim of charisma and charm both offscreen and on. You know how there are some people, who you can just tell they are fun to be around, and genuinely kind in real life? I get that sort of feeling whenever I see Chalamet. His onscreen repertoire proves that he is a true modern chameleon. He doesn’t undergo any major physical transformations, or change his entire vocal performance from role to role, but the little things he does are what make him a generational talent. The way he holds his head in “Lady Bird”, always looking at Saoirse Ronan at a slight angle, or his telling eye acting, and slight softening of his voice in “Little Women”. In both parts of “Dune”, we see him convey in posture his transition from anguished son of nobility to warrior, and, ultimately to leader. Along the way, audiences have been delightfully surprised as the budding young actor has popped up in humorous supporting roles in “The French Dispatch” and “Don’t Look Up”. His turn in “Wonka” proved to the world that he was an actor with some admirable singing chops. 

But it is his entire embodiment – not just of Bob Dylan, but of an entire era of creativity in “A Complete Unknown” – that has at last catapulted Chalamet into the stratosphere of full-fledged movie stardom. In a way, his portrayal of Dylan could be seen as a metaphor for his own role in the entertainment business. He is a figure that stands out against many young actors in his generation, giving us a glimpse of hope for the future of the industry – and the stories that are still yet to be told. There are moments where, his performance will send a chill down your spine. Maybe it is simply the fact that he conveys to us, the viewer, his admiration for the man he is portraying, and growth as an actor – and a person – in the process of telling this story and singing some of the greatest songs ever written. Whatever it is, Timothée delivers in every single capacity, exceeding expectations, and adding to the unbreakable streak of phenomenal performances.

Edward Norton and Monica Barbaro both give breathtaking performances as Pete Seeger and Joan Baez, respectively. Through the music (which all actors performed themselves and sang live), they capture the very essence of the folk movement that defined a generation. Norton’s portrayal of Seeger is imbued with a subtle strength and unwavering passion for his art, and the message folk music can send to the world. He is practically unrecognizable, in body and voice, as he speaks in the folksy staccato that is trademark to Seeger. Barbaro as Joan Baez is, outside of Chalamet, the film’s standout. Her constant balance of passion and frustration renders her an explosive character – played so brilliantly – you don’t dare look away from the screen. Near the end of the film’s first act, she performs “House of the Rising Sun” in one of the greatest scenes captured on film in 2024. It is haunting, melancholic, and purely beautiful. Both actors have an electric chemistry with Chalamet, who does not upstage them, nor they him. They are all one, similar to the folk scene, all working as one to bring their music (and the story of the music) to millions of people.

It is also worth noting that Boyd Holbrook (who plays a humorous but dead-on Johnny Cash) are both excellent but watch them for yourself. If I spent time on every supporting performance, I would run out of space to write about the rest of what makes the film the success that it is.

Moving on from the performances. Director James Mangold perfectly encapsulates the vibrant spirit of the 1960s folk music sing, immersing viewers in the bohemian energy of New York’s West Village. The film transports audiences to a time when coffeehouses buzzed with the sounds of passionate voices by day, and by night bars hummed with the music and poetry of a generation. In short, the West Village was a haven for poets and paupers, artists and activists alike. It was a place where, if you were there to create in some capacity, you were welcomed. Phedon Papamichael’s cinematography gives the nighttime streets of New York a sort of angelic glow, but is brilliant in not shying away from the growing eye-sores that would inevitably lead to the downfall of the city’s reputation by the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. You can’t help but fall in love with the place. You just want to hop in the screen and walk around with the characters, stumbling upon Dylan debuting “Masters of War” at the Gaslight Café during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962 (a disputably fictional detail, but it worked VERY well for its dramatic purposes). This film is a love letter to the place, because without that place, the music that emerged may not exist today. In such, Mangold elevates his film beyond that of a typical biopic. The art is not a result of the occurrences around it. Rather, the music we hear is the centerpiece. It is the device that drives the events of the film forward.

I think one of the reasons “A Complete Unknown” resonated with me so much, is that it captured the creative spirit that defined a very specific generation. And it calls on its audiences to find that creativity that surely lies within each of their respective generations. It uses the music of Dylan, Baez, Cash, Seeger and several others, to capture the ageless essence of artistic expression. But I think more important than that, is the message that is captured in the film’s bookends. It opens with a young Dylan, having just arrived in New York in 1961, visiting Woody Guthrie, who is ill and hospital-ridden. My first historical passion was that of the Great Depression, thus Woody Guthrie has been a familiar name for over a decade, and the meaning behind his life’s work is deeply profound. When they began to play “Song For Woody” in the first few minutes, I cried silently – but openly. It is the powerful image of a younger generation making personal sacrifices to pay tribute to those who came before, paying homage to them, and thus bridging the generational divide through art, that will stick with me forever.

Moreover, the idea that art – particularly music – is a catalyst during eras of social upheaval is yet another profound and timeless message that echoes throughout the duration of the movie. In this moment, characters of varying backgrounds and varying causes, are united in their awe of the beauty that comes out of an instrument – and a voice. One of the most powerful sequences is the debut of “The Times They Are A-Changing”, during which a crowd in Newport begins to sing the chorus in unison. Are we still capable of this? I hope. I desperately hope that in the end, we can still be united by a moving melody.

But perhaps the most important message of “A Complete Unknown” is the call for embracing a collective memory. I am fascinated by nostalgia. Is it invented for commercial purposes – to get us to buy things that transport us back to an earlier era? Perhaps. But I prefer to think that nostalgia is a form of empathy. Because among other emotions I felt through the duration of the film, I often found myself pining for a time and place that existed long before me. A time and place that embraced diverse cultural contributions and produced some of the greatest artists of all time. The music at the center of “A Complete Unknown” is not just a relic to its time, but has become essential threads in the fabric of our collective identity. If we turn away from the music of Bob Dylan, then we lose a sense of understanding the angst that underpinned so much of what came out of the 1960s. If we forget about Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, then we forget about the human suffering and resilience that they captured in their music. Art in itself is immortal – it, itself will never die. But art of times gone by is facing constant threats of being forgotten. And “A Complete Unknown” begs us not to forget. It beckons all audiences to walk out of the theater humming “Blowing in the Wind” or “Girl From the North Country”, or really listen to the lyrics of “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”. So, I end this review standing proudly on a electronic soapbox. Go see “A Complete Unknown”. You do not have to love it or even like it. But I ask that you all absorb it. It is by no means a history lesson, but an exercise in preserving a moment in time through a very specific musical movement. The very fact that this movie exists is a gift in this current moment in time. We can’t let the music be forgotten. Because democracy demands memory.

★★★★★

You can now stream “A Complete Unknown” on Hulu, and rent or buy it wherever you rent or buy movies!