A case study in the beautifully bleak which pivots around the crumbling fortunes of folk musician Llewyn Davis

Rating: 9/10 (2 February 2014)

Inside Llewyn Davis is a case study in the beautifully bleak; A gorgeous accrual of the damned unlucky. The fortunes of Llewyn Davis go from bad, to worse, to the awkwardly oppressive; to holy HECK whose temple have you desecrated? The opening scene is immersive. A shallow focus makes pointed commentary as we edge into contact with the protagonist. His eyes are shut to reality. Everything in "King Midas's idiot brother's" reach is blurred, undetermined, unstable. The camera flutters over a stilled audience, ash slumps from a cigarette: a testament to Oscar Isaac's eerily stunning performance. Yet this illusory solace is not given licence to last. The scene ends with Llewyn Davis in the gutter, having being subjected to an unexplained assault. Thus ensues a deliriously convoluted anti-plot; a gluttonous indulgence in structural perversion. Inside Llewyn Davis is remarkably open. The glory of the Coens' direction is that the audience is granted the respect to interpret the poetic pit stops as they please. And my-oh-my there is a veritable feast of symbolism on which to chew. One notably meaty motif is the cat, inarguably the cutest exercise in thought provocation à la feline since Breakfast at Tiffany's. Although admirably pernickety in its devotion to period and place, Llewyn Davis' plight is universal, and smattered with moments which tease dark mirth from the painfully blunt. The Coens' deftness of direction filters levity into depth with harrowing immediacy. Yes, this movie is funny. And it traverses many shades of humour. From the space race schmaltz satire "Please Mr Kennedy" (Adam Driver I enjoyed you, and that's not just my inner Girls fan talking), to Carey Mulligan's lesson in awkward swearing, to the house pleasing "Where's its scrotum?" I challenge you not to giggle in the midst of the morose. Inside Llewyn Davis is a bittersweet ode to the greyness of life; a quality Mirrored in the muted pastels of Bruno Delbonnel's Oscar nominated cinematography which is not only atmospheric, but meditates on Davis' story, making observations of its own. Further praise, goes to the cast. Oscar Isaac is the newly patented face of bitterness. But everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, packed a punch. Watch this movie.