The Coen brother’s latest venture follows Gaslight regular Llewyn Davis (Oscar Issac) during a week of his life in 1961, on the eve of the folk revolution in the US. The film is an acerbic mixture of tragicomedy, black humour and sweetness as Llewyn attempts to overcome barriers in his life that are entirely of his own making. The film toes the line of being respectful to the folk scene, whilst being tenderly satirical in its portrayal of the folk lifestyle & subculture.
The film suggests the dichotomy of artistic integrity or commercial success, furthermore discussing the question of when do artists cut their losses & abandon their careers?
Opening with Dave Van Ronk’s maudlin ‘Hang me, Oh hang me’, Inside Llewyn Davis has a delightful collection of Greenwich village classics, ranging from Bob Dylan’s #13 Farewell to Ewan MacColl’s the Shoals of Herring which has enjoyed a popular revival since the films release. Long time Coen Brothers collaborator, T Bone Burnet selected the folk music. Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel (Amélie, Harry Potter and the Half blood prince) shoots early 1960s Greenwich in a crisp, highly stylised style in which every frame could be an album cover, in an attractive yet desturated manner.
The mixture of bad luck and terrible decision ensure Llewyn’s week takes Kafkaesque twists and turns, while it is not difficult to draw the parallel between the plight of Llewyn and Larry Gopnik in the Coen brother’s earlier work, A Serious Man. Carey Mulligan, foul-mouthed folk singer Jean aptly describes the protagonists life, suggesting “Everything you touch turns to shit, like King Midas’s idiot brother”.
These bad decisions are obvious to the audience, yet indecipherable to Llewyn. There is a scene where he is invited to a recording session with his friend Jim (played superbly by Justin Timberlake) recording “Please Mr Kennedy (I don’t wanna go to outer space)”. Coen dilettantes will draw the recording session parallel to O Brother Where Art Thou. The irony of the scene is obvious; whilst Llewyn hates the song, it is no doubt catchy and will undoubtedly be a commercial success. Llewyn opts for the small instant payment, instead of signing on for royalties. The audience realises his idiocy as we realise straight away that the song will be a hit. The catchy lyricism of the song also suggests that the rest of America is heading skyward whilst Llewyn is grounded by his own hubris and conformance to his artistic ‘integrity’.
A central tenet of the film is the complex love triangle of love/hate/resentment between Llewyn and Jim and Jane (Timberlake and Carey Mulligan). Llewyn has got Jane pregnant behind Jim’s back prompting mutual resentment, yet there is tenderness between Jane and Llewyn that occasionally permeates through their bitterness and anger. It has been suggested that the love triangle draws on the real life folk trio of Peter, Paul and Mary who were popular during the Greenwich Village years.
Another prominent theme in the film is taken from Blake Snyder’s text, Save the Cat! The cat has been subject to much speculation as to it’s purpose, yet to me it also suggests that the real epic journey of the narrative may be going on off screen. Snyder’s book, described by some as a Hollywood cheat book, suggests that we can empathise and sympathise with whatever act the anti-hero commits because the hero does something that makes us forget his hubris and flaws; i.e Llewyn saves the cat. We see this in films like Alien where Sigourney Weaver saves the cat, whilst almost half of the crew perish in the foolish pursuit of it. There is also a seen in The Good the Bad and the Ugly where Clint Eastwood randomly plays with a small cat.
Llewyn inadvertently lets the cat our of the Gorfein’s apartment where he has bummed a night on the couch, and spends the rest of the film attempting to catch it, taking it on the Subway and chasing it around Greenwich. Perhaps this is why he isn’t that dislikeable, despite his obvious character flaws.
Steven Rose of the Guardian actually suggests that the cat is a metaphor for Llewyn himself, “they’re both charming drifters who survive on the hospitality of others and spread their seed irresponsibly – Llewyn is trying to save himself, see?”
There are further parallels of Llewyn as cat when he calls Professor Gorfein’s receptionist, after she announces that “Llewyn is the cat”, mishearing the intended message. There are other small hints in the dialogue. In an earlier version of the script, Llewyn tells the elevator operator, “Yeah – I—it’s the Gorfreind’s cat”. Freudian slip perhaps?
Other critics have suggests that this is the Coen Brothers response to the screenwriting by numbers or adherence to Save the Cat! Styled film. Snyder’s formulaic episodes have become so prevalent that he is often blamed for the ubiquity of these themes and the similarity between commercially successful films.
Llewyn was initially part of a double act, before his partner committed suicide by jumping off of Washington Bridge. His first solo effort is entitled ‘Inside Llewyn Davis’ and the irony is not lost on the audience. We never get to see what is inside him; the audience can only observe his gloomy and dour demeanour at an arms length. He only gets two auditions in the film, one with Chicago club owner F Murray Abrahams who suggests that “there is no money” in his folk based act, and one with his father. In each case there is no happy ending, they both don’t believe in him. However he doesn’t abandon hope, he even finds solace in the fact that both he and Al Cody are lugging around boxes of their failed records.
There is a multitude of literary influences on this text. Once again, the Coen brothers draw on Homer, particularly the Odyssey as Llewyn takes a brief but eventful trip to Chicago. The trip includes a riotous cameo from John Goodman, appearing as Cyclopean villain – Much like his appearance in ‘O brother, where art thou?’. Goodman suggested facetiously in a press interview for NYFF51, that he “thought it was understood” that he was a Siren, the creatures who lure sailors to crash their boats onto the rocks, by singing sweetly. If you have seen Goodmans stature and the Big Lebowski, you will know why this is hilarious. Goodman plays Roland Turner successful jazz singer and fellow hitch hiker with Llewyn. He also offers advice, suggesting where Llewyn’s musical problems lie ““In jazz, you know, we play all the notes – 12 notes on the scale, dip shit, not three chords on a Ukelele”.
The end of the film is equally ambivalent. Does the arrival of Dylan mean that his work will finally get recognized on artistic merit over commercial interest? Or does it mean that his work will never be ‘the best’ of the genre? Beautifully imbued with Pathos, Dylan’s ‘#13 Farwell’ is played in juxtaposition with Llewyn getting the beating of his life for ridiculing Lilian Gorfein’s performance the night before. Perhaps Dylan’s arrival marks a farewell to his miserable life as he gains superstardom? Or is it farewell to his musical career, as he falls into Dylan and the folk scenes shadows
Surprisingly, this epic has missed out on Oscar & Bafta short lists, yet it makes the top 5 Cohen (for me) Brother’s films with ease. This however may be more appropriate to the subject matter and a mirror to Llewyn Davis troubled search for recognition that is so prevalent within the film.
Tom Bamford