A Complete Unknown (2024)

A Complete Unknown is a shimmering mirage of a film, as elusive and beguiling as its subject. James Mangold’s portrait of the young Bob Dylan is a fever dream of 1960s Greenwich Village, where poetry drips from rain-slicked streets and revolution hangs thick in the air like cigarette smoke.
Timothée Chalamet doesn’t so much play Dylan as channel him, inhabiting the folk prophet’s skin with an intensity that’s almost uncomfortable to watch. His Dylan is a chameleon, shifting from wide-eyed Minnesota boy to sharp-tongued New York scenester with quicksilver grace. Chalamet captures Dylan’s infamous disdain and vulnerability in equal measure, his eyes flashing with a mixture of genius and terror that suggests the weight of impending legend.
The supporting cast orbits Chalamet like planets around a mercurial sun. Monica Barbaro’s Joan Baez is a force of nature, her crystalline voice cutting through the din of history. Edward Norton brings a grizzled gravitas to Pete Seeger, embodying the old guard’s mixture of admiration and unease at Dylan’s meteoric rise. Each performance is a brushstroke in a larger portrait of an era on the brink of seismic change.
Mangold’s direction is a masterclass in controlled chaos. He weaves through crowded clubs and rain-soaked alleys with the assurance of a native, his camera an unobtrusive observer of history in the making. Cinematographer Phedon Papamichael paints with light and shadow, bathing scenes in a golden glow that feels like memory itself. The Greenwich Village of A Complete Unknown is a place out of time, where every corner holds the possibility of artistic epiphany.
The film’s soundtrack is its lifeblood, Dylan’s early works serving as both Greek chorus and narrative spine. From the raw hunger of “Blowin’ in the Wind” to the surreal wordplay of “Mr. Tambourine Man,” each song charts another step in Dylan’s evolution. The music is more than mere backdrop; it’s the film’s heartbeat, driving the narrative forward with the relentless rhythm of change.
Where A Complete Unknown falters is in its reluctance to pin down its butterfly of a subject. The film skirts the edges of Dylan’s psyche, offering tantalising glimpses but never quite grasping the whole. This ambiguity, while true to Dylan’s own slippery nature, may leave you with the feeling of being adrift in a sea of impressions and half-truths.
The pacing mirrors Dylan’s own rambling tales, meandering through time with a poet’s disregard for linearity. While this approach captures the freewheeling spirit of the era, it may leave you yearning for a more traditional narrative arc.
Arianne Phillips’ costume design is nothing short of revelatory. Each carefully curated outfit is a statement of intent, charting Dylan’s transformation from Woody Guthrie disciple to the epitome of counter-culture cool. The evolution of Dylan’s wardrobe becomes a visual shorthand for his artistic journey, speaking volumes without a word.
For Dylan aficionados, A Complete Unknown is a treasure trove of references and knowing winks. For neophytes, it’s a hypnotic introduction to a cultural lodestone. The film excels in capturing the electric atmosphere of a pivotal moment in American culture, even as it struggles to illuminate the enigma at its heart.
In the end, A Complete Unknown is less a biopic than a tone poem, a celluloid ode to the idea of Bob Dylan rather than the man himself. It’s a film that lingers in the mind like a half-remembered dream, its images and melodies echoing long after the credits roll. While it may not provide the definitive portrait of Dylan that some crave, it captures something far more elusive: the ineffable spirit of an artist on the cusp of changing the world.
A flawed but mesmerising glimpse into the crucible that forged a legend. Like Dylan’s own work, A Complete Unknown demands engagement, rewarding those willing to look beyond the surface with a rich, complex experience that defies easy categorisation. It’s a film that, like its subject, refuses to be pinned down, preferring instead to float free in the realm of myth and memory.