“Our intention is not to explain Dylan. If anything, it’s to create even more questions.” —Steven Jenkins, director of the Bob Dylan Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma
A memorable lyric from his 1965 recording “Like a Rolling Stone” anoints this Bob Dylan biopic, A Complete Unknown. Compliments of cowriter and director extraordinaire James Mangold, the guided tour is drawn from the 2015 book by Elijah Wald, Dylan Goes Electric!, revisiting the formative years of folk icon Robert Allen Zimmerman, a.k.a. Bob Dylan, who is now 83.
Timothée Chalamet assumes Dylan’s persona—hook, line, and sinker—from his appearance and whiny speaking voice to his guy-on-a-mission vibe that usually includes a cigarette and rarely relaxes into a smile. And most impressive, Chalamet performs his own vocals, guitar, and harmonica. Who knew this guy had it in him?
For Boomers who embraced the folk music era of the 1950s and ’60s, A Complete Unknown is a serving of nostalgia as Dylan both enters and defines the folk music era. Born in Duluth, Minnesota, in 1941, Dylan’s quest for meaning was answered by folk artist Woody Guthrie, whose socially conscious lyrics addressed American inequality. It was music with a message. And it was contagious.
The film opens in 1961, when young Bob Dylan finds his way to New York City’s Greenwich Village in search of coffeehouse venues hosting live music. He’s also in search of Woody Guthrie, to tell him how much his music inspired him. Sadly, he finds his idol in a residential hospital, stricken with Huntington’s disease and unable to speak. And Dylan sings to him.
Within the circle of folk singers, Dylan gains friendship and admiration from musicians like Pete Seeger (played by Edward Norton) and Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), who support and aid his meteoric rise in the music world, though he never seems to return the favors. And Sylvie Russo, played by Elle Fanning, is actually Suze Rotollo, Bob Dylan’s first love in the big city. In 1963, Rotollo appears with Dylan on the cover of his second studio album, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.
A Complete Unknown offers an unabridged, warts-and-all perspective on the singer-songwriter who defined ’60s culture and became an instant legend. His ambition and full-speed-ahead energy usually included a pencil or typewriter continuously transferring his thoughts to the page. And while the name Bob Dylan invokes poetic lyrics with bold messages, it’s also a nod to Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, who authored the instruction, “Do not go gentle into that good night.”
Personally, I found the 141 minutes thoroughly enjoyable, nostalgic, eye opening, and, as the director intended, intimate. I’d been treated to a concert that echoed the ethos of a generation—but this time with a far greater appreciation of Dylan’s breakout electric performance accompanied by a sizzling backup band, while the audience, seasoned protestors of the ’60s, demanded acoustic. And booed.
Two points in closing. Okay, three. First, Chalamet hits it out of the park. Way out. Second, so does director Mangold. Perfect sequencing was a lower priority. Delivering Dylan’s story through a quiet, up-close intimacy was Mangold’s goal, which he achieves so well.
And third, if you’re like me, wondering how Mr. Dylan felt about the film that portrayed his transition from a young man into a superstar, wonder no more. Interviews with Mangold in Salon and Forbes reveal how the seasoned director insisted on Dylan having a voice in the production. Together, they did a table read of the screenplay, with Dylan reading his own lines while writing notations. In the end, Dylan signed his name on his notated script, offered it to Mangold, and said, “Go with God.”
It doesn’t get better than that.