Behind the moody enigma, a simple but beautiful statement: "just respect the music"...

Rating: 9/10 (23 September 2016)

In "O' Brother, Where Are Thou", one of the best parts of a rather inconsequential comedy, was the catchy and somewhat penetrating singing of "A Man of Constant Sorrow", a little musical hit that played as significant a part to the plot that the role bluegrass music really played to appease people's anguishes during the Great Depression. In a way, folk songs were both the artistic outcomes and the fitting cure of these times of melancholia. And maybe this is why the Coen brothers decided to pay a second tribute to folk music, through their moody character study of fictional folk singer, Llewyn Davis, played by Oscar Isaac, a real revelation to me.
Study is an overstatement though as you don't learn much about folk music from "Inside Llewyn Davis" except maybe the most essential thing, which is that music is something to respect, no matter where it comes from, and whom it addresses, music is a language that belongs to someone, borrows from a few ones and is shared with everyone. It's not just about the journey about Llewyn Davis consisting of many attempts to rise as a star and immediate falls, it's the journey of music within his experience. And adversity is the stuff music drains its creativity from, human suffering, folk songs are about everyday struggles, the haunting "Auld Hand Triangle" is a ballad about prison and hell, even the upbeat "Please, Mr. Kennedy" is about someone who doesn't go to space.
"Who wrote this?" disdainfully asks Davis, and Justin Timberlake's answer is priceless "I did" no big deal but he says it with such confidence that you better believe he takes pride in it, and why shouldn't he? In a later scene, Davis is asked to perform a song in front of friendly guests and for some reason, he's reluctant, refusing to be treated like a trained poodle, this is his way of living, and can't just sing like that. This attitude is rather contradictory with the way he criticized people with careerist moves, and his evocation of myths when it comes to the building of a star's image. In a way, Davis needlessly mystifies his Art when talked about career and when he's given professional advice, he brandishes the Artist card. Is he deliberately dishonest or innately erroneous?
Character studies are never as interesting as when they deal with people full of contradictions, and Davis strikes like someone who's never really come to term with his personal issues, he holds his Art into high regard, but he refuses to make any concessions that could allow him to reach his goal. There's one thing though, he loves his music and he's never as convincing and mesmerizing as when he takes the guitar and sings, the rest of the time, he's hesitant, clumsy and pathetic, letting his impregnated girlfriend (Carey Mulligan) treat like him dirt without a reaction. Davis hasn't found his language to reach people, it might be music, but the film takes place in the musical sequence that came before Bob Dylan, so we know Davis won't be the 'chosen one'.
Now, are we supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe. Maybe not. I did recognize a pattern though: everyone who didn't show respect to someone's music got somewhat punished at the end. It starts with Roland Turner, a teasing instrumentalist played by John Goodman. When Davis, tells him he's a folk singer, the answer is "I thought you were a musician". Later, the pompous prick is found lying on the toilet floor, victim of an epileptic stroke. At the end, Davis is also put in the same place, hit by someone who seems to have a problem with him. The ending scene is the opening, but it's only at the end that we realize the reason of the aggression, like the punch-line of a song, and in a way, Davis had it coming for having disrespected music.
"Inside Llewyn Davis" is perhaps the most enigmatic Coen brothers' film since "Barton Fink" and there are many similarities between Fink and Davis. These are two men who believe they are in touch with life, through their status as artists and common men, but they're not. Fink is so obsessed to be called a common man that he turns it into a concept that is totally unlike the world, and alienates himself physically (small hotel room) and morally (existential block). At the end, he really doesn't know where he stands for. And Davis is so wrapped up in his artistic ego that he's incapable to male concessions. And he's lost. But he'd rather give up than destroying his life, indeed, , there comes a point when self-esteem and passion interfere.
The merit of "Inside Lwellyn Davis" is not to deal with this enigmatic character by writing a complex plot full of symbolism. This is a straightforward, rather neutral story, set in New York City of the 60's before what would be considered the greatest musical sequence of rock' n' roll 1963-1973. Even the cinematography is pastel, and gray as to illustrate this neutral period before the rebellious explosion, or the gray area where we can't really label Davis. In a way, he embraced the incertitude and transitional aspect of his time, being both a protagonist and a victim, loving so much his music he failed to respect the others.
The film doesn't strike as a Coen masterpiece but there's something truthful and sincere about it. That they managed to hire actors who were also talented show that the Coen brothers really wanted to make the music believable and were lucky enough to find that special something and I bet they would have abandoned the project if a talent like Oscar Isaac didn't pop up. And indeed, there's not one single music scene that feels acted or artificial, I guess that's also out of respect to music.