Walking into the cinema, I knew little about Bob Dylan beyond his iconic status, but this film? It’s like being struck by lightning and suddenly understanding why the world tilted on its axis in the 1960s.
From the moment Timothée Chalamet steps onto the screen as the enigmatic Dylan, you can feel the electricity in the air. It’s like watching a young god descend from Olympus, armed with nothing but a guitar and a head full of poetry. Chalamet doesn’t just play Dylan; he channels him, capturing that mercurial spirit that made the folk scene of 1960s New York City buzz with anticipation.
Director James Mangold has crafted a love letter to an era that feels both intimately familiar and tantalisingly out of reach. The film’s portrayal of Greenwich Village is so vivid, you can almost smell the coffee and cigarettes wafting from the cramped cafes.
But let’s talk about Chalamet for a hot second. I’ve been a huge fan of everything he’s done since I discovered him in Call Me By Your Name… but this performance is a career best. Give him all the awards now. His performance is like watching a magic trick unfold in slow motion. He’s got Dylan’s mannerisms down pat – the way he hunches over his guitar, the sly smirk that plays at the corners of his mouth when he knows he’s about to blow minds. And when he opens his mouth to sing? Forget about it. I found myself wondering how I’d gone this long without truly appreciating Dylan’s genius.
The supporting cast is a who’s who of 60s icons, with Edward Norton as Pete Seeger and Elle Fanning as Sylvie Russo providing the perfect foils for Dylan’s meteoric rise. Their performances add depth to the swirling vortex that is Dylan’s world, grounding the film even as it threatens to spin off into the stratosphere of legend.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is its refusal to demystify Dylan completely. The film understands that part of Dylan’s allure is his inscrutability. Mangold gives us glimpses behind the curtain but never pulls it back entirely, leaving us to wonder where the person ends and the persona begins.
The film builds to the infamous 1965 Newport Folk Festival, a moment that in lesser hands could have felt like a ‘movie moment’. But here, it’s electric in every sense of the word. As Dylan plugs in and the crowd reacts, you can feel the tectonic plates of music history shifting beneath your feet.
For someone like me, who came into this film knowing next to nothing about Dylan, it’s a beautiful revelation of why his art matters. The film is a reminder that great art isn’t just about the notes played or the words sung – it’s about the spaces in between, the silences that speak volumes, and the magic that happens when an artist taps into something greater than themselves. It’s a film that could’ve kept going for hours, and I would’ve been just fine with that.
The Rating: ★★★★★
So, do yourself a favour. See this film. Let it wash over you. And then go home, put on some Bob Dylan, and discover why people fall in love with music in the first place. Because after watching ‘A Complete Unknown’ you’ll feel like you’re hearing him for the very first time.
And Timothée? Clear some space on that mantlepiece. I’m sure the Oscar’s coming home.
A Complete Unknown is in cinemas from Friday 17 January 2025.