Subtle tale of folk music & cats. Sharply written, viciously funny.

Rating: 8/10 (17 February 2014)

There are two versions of Coen brothers (I'm not including the evil, shadowy version that inflicted The Ladykillers on us). Inside Llewyn Davis is not from the Coens of The Big Lebowski or Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? This is from the gloomy, shuffling, subtle Coens of The Man Who Wasn't There.
Know this from the outset: this isn't for flighty fans who want to sing along, laugh out loud and enjoy the romp. This is a slow, inward-looking film that gently delights and brings smiles that occasionally bubble into light chuckles. I loved it.
Taking a week out of the life of a young, troubled and struggling folk singer from Greewhich Village, Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac), Inside Llewyn Davis follows him as he trudges from sofa to sofa in a New York winter as bitter as himself, searching for validation and a breakthrough, incapable of seeing that the greatest obstacle in the way of success is himself.
Of the regular Coen company only John Goodman is present, as irascible jazz musician Roland Turner, filling the back seat and armed with a cane, but as we have come to expect from Joel & Ethan's work, the screen is littered with memorable characters that aren't so much carved as cut from the script with pinking shears, jagged edges catching on those around them.
Always beautifully written, their characters are brought to life by an invariably eclectic bunch, from New York outsiders to Hollywood stars. Lead from the front by Oscar Isaac, sprinkled through this 104 minute joy are the likes of Justin Timberlake, F. Murray Abraham and Carey Mulligan, as the fantastically dour, dowdy and razor-tongued Jean. When she sneers at Llewin, "Everything you touch turns to s***, you're like King Midas' idiot brother" we laugh and shrivel simultaneously. Hers is a wonderfully nuanced performance of a character that is sharp of tongue and blunt in attitude. With evenings spent in her company, is it any wonder that Llewin's self-esteem packed up and went south long ago?
Isaac, in a rare but welcome lead role, marries the social ineptitude of Llewyn with the natural talent and bloody-mindedness that attracts friends and supporters before pummeling their emotions. We cringe, not from Issac's performance, but from each verbal bludgeoning Llewyn dishes out in his tiny life cycle. It is like watching a blinkered hamster lumbering around a barbed wire wheel when there is a vast stretch of calm and freedom a couple of steps to the left.
Shot with muted hues that peak at 'dim' and trough at 'dull', Inside Llewyn Davis is a delightful comedy of folk music and cats with undertones of Greek mythology that takes its time, wanders at its own pace and stings with killer dialogue that the Coens have mastered.
Where else would you hear a character screech "Where's his scrotum?"
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