“They gave me a new man to share my bed/Sometimes I wish that I was dead”

Throughout its history, folk music has been the topic of a lot of discussion, with its influence being undeniable and incredibly distinct, even amongst those who did not work in the genre themselves. Perhaps the most succinct definition is by Louis Armstrong, who famously quipped “all music is folk music – I ain’t never heard a horse sing a song”, which is a terrific way of remarking on the wide-ranging impact of those who spent their lives curating this genre, which has had far more influence on modern music than most may expect. The words that start this review were taken from the traditional song “Dink’s Song”, which is not only one of the most famous pieces of folk music ever written, having been recorded by just about every musician in the genre, but also the centrepiece of Inside Llewyn Davis, a film in which Joel and Ethan Coen tell the story of the titular character, a down-on-his-luck folk musician who finds himself navigating the treacherous streets of New York City and Chicago in the early 1960s, desperately looking for a way to have his music heard, but consistently struggling to make an impact, especially since he carries the burden of being a part of a semi-successful singing duo that had their future destroyed when one of them decided to abruptly end his life, leaving our protagonist to pick up the fragmented segments of what used to be a well-defined path towards success. In what is one of the Coen Brothers’ most captivating films, and one that has only grown in stature over the past decade since its release (especially as one of their final films as a directing duo), they once again fashion a deeply moving, wonderfully compelling dark comedy that has as much heart as it does humour, crafting a detailed character study that once again takes us into the past and allows us access to yet another fascinating protagonist, this time journeying back to the 1960s, where we sample from the fascinating world of folk music at a time when it was at its peak, leaving a lasting influence that remains so powerful.

Folk music is about finding truth in a society defined by deception, as well as the perpetual search for a sense of belonging in a world where outsiders are not welcome. The protagonist of Inside Llewyn Davis is a man who is standing on the very edge of his sanity, teetering dangerously close to a complete breakdown, but this manifests in his music, heartbreaking odes to the pain of having a keen sense of self-awareness in a time when foolish naivete was fashionable and leading a normal life is seen as the ultimate barometer of success. I have always viewed folk music as being the human soul put into words, delivered by the rare kind of poet that understands their responsibility to examine what it means to be alive, in both its unimpeachable joys and unavoidable tragedies. This is what this film is exploring, and the Coen Brothers take a unique approach to examining this corner of the industry, one that is not the most bombastic or entertaining, but rather defined by a soulfulness that speaks directly to the most intimate corners of our lives, tenderly placed throughout this story with nothing but the most sincere vigour and attention to detail. It’s not only a tremendous examination of one man’s journey, but a fascinating account of the history of folk music as a whole, with figures like Bob Dylan looming large (with the esteemed songwriter and musician playing a part in the climactic moments of the story), as well as the likes of Dave Von Ronk, who was the primary inspiration for the character of Llewyn Davis, the directors drawing many correlations between his life and career, which was the complete antithesis of the seamless rise to fame that we usually see in stories about musicians going up against the odds, and instead functions as a quiet meditation on the art of condensing the complex emotions that swirl in our souls into a few minutes of music, in which we can find the entirety of the human condition, one of the many traits that have allowed folk music to remain such an integral form of artistic expression.

One of the tenets of folk music is that it is very rarely written in times of joy and comfort, so it makes sense that a film that centres on characters that work within this artistic community would be somewhat bleak, reflecting both the impoverished conditions in which these musicians often worked, as well as the psychological impact of being someone whose career is based around writing and performing some of the most profoundly sad pieces of music ever produced. Inside Llewyn Davis is a gorgeous film, but one that finds beauty in the bleakness – this is delivered in both the narrative, which is a complex and engaging portrait of the protagonist as he stumbles through life without any hope for the future, as well as the visual channel, with Roger A. Deakins’ extraordinary cinematography capturing the spirit of the 1960s, with the work by the production designers and costumers to recreate Greenwich Village at this time being remarkable. The Coen Brothers are nothing if not entirely defined by their attention to detail when it comes to these stories, and Inside Llewyn Davis contains some of their most artistically-resonant commentary, their efforts to look behind the proverbial curtain of the past, focusing less on the events and more on the people who defined it. It’s not a particularly daring work in terms of the story that is being told, but rather it serves as a film defined by its atmosphere, where the darkly sardonic tone (as it is a very funny film, albeit one in which the humour is slightly more abstract and difficult to notice at first) intermingles with the feeling of existential dread to create a multilayered work that goes in pursuit of deeper meaning behind the lives of these characters, which is intentionally represented in the drab surroundings in which they exist, with the occasional burst of colour serving to be more of a fleeting moment of hope rather than something regularly experienced by these characters. The intention of this film was to find a way to reconfigure the shapeless lives of these characters into something meaningful, which it achieves with immensely intriguing results.

Reflected in the sense of bleakness are the characters, who are defined brilliantly by both the Coen Brothers and the actors tasked with bringing them to life. Llewyn Davis is played by Oscar Isaac, who had been working for years prior to receiving this role, which kickstarted his career as one of the most original actors of his generation. This film is entirely commandeered by Isaac, who plays the titular character with an incredible amount of dedication, forging a strong relationship between the story and it manifests on screen. It’s important to note that, much like every character in this film, Llewyn is not a pleasant person – if anything, his insecurity and feelings of inadequacy result in cruelty, some of it intentional, other times it emerges accidentally, an external expression of the inner turmoil he is facing. Isaac is tremendous, and has appropriately found this to be one of his defining roles – he’s done astonishing work in the decade since this film’s release, but this remains one of his peaks as an actor, his ability to look inwards and develop this character as a truly fascinating individual, someone who is as defined by his flaws as he is his talents (which essentially complement one another) being astounding and worthy of his ascent to the very top of the industry. We find many memorable parts from the supporting cast – Carey Mulligan is solid as one of the titular character’s former lovers who is thrust back into his life when she falls pregnant with the child that she believes is his, while Justin Timberlake turns in an unexpectedly strong performance as the more successful version of the protagonist. Adam Driver and John Goodman have terrific moments but are limited in their screen time, which only allows them to make a small but still very substantial impact on the narrative, especially in how they bring some humour to the otherwise quite haunting film. As a whole, the cast of Inside Llewyn Davis is as remarkable as we’d expect, the perfect collision of a wide range of actors united under the concise and meaningful direction of two truly remarkable filmmakers.

Inside Llewyn Davis does something extremely fascinating, in which it develops its characters but yet allows them to remain stagnant – there isn’t a single moment of life-changing revelation or an epiphany that convinces them to change their ways and somehow improve their life through making necessary changes. Llewyn is a character who possesses the same existential dread and insecurity throughout the film, and by the end, he has not grown, but rather developed in such a way that he is more aware of the issues that have been plaguing him – but without the willingness to make the changes, his life is not going to become any less challenging. It takes a lot of skill to create a film in which we see a character undergoing some form of journey – for Llewyn it is both physical and psychological – and not have them learn their lesson, at least in a traditional sense. The elliptical nature of the story is one of the most interesting elements of the film in this regard, whereby Llewyn performs at a nightclub, baring his soul to an apathetic audience, only to be violently assaulted upon leaving the establishment by a mysterious figure without any reason (and the interpretation of what this character represents has led to some terrific discussion – I feel that this nameless individual is the embodiment of failure, something that visits Llewyn just as he is about to prove himself in his chosen industry), highlights the fact that this character is trapped in a vicious circle, one that comes about through a combination of his own selfishness, as well as the fact that he is surrounded by equally self-centred people who are singularly unable to look past their own ambitions to see that any industry – or perhaps even an entire community – can only succeed through collaboration, whether artistic or humanistic. The rare film where we are invested in the protagonist’s journey, despite him being almost entirely without redemption, Inside Llewyn Davis is quite a statement, and proof that the directors are capable of finding meaning in even the most harrowing of stories.

Choosing the definitive work of a pair of directors as versatile as the Coen Brothers is not only difficult, it is outright impossible since they have frequently embodied the kind of artistic diversity that is extremely rare, making every one of their films (even those that are slightly less successful) seem vibrant and interesting. We never quite know what to expect from their work, and they constantly draw on a wide range of inspirations when crafting films. Inside Llewyn Davis is perhaps not a realistic contender for their best work, but it is certainly an incredible film nonetheless, with its very peculiar tone and striking approach to a story as immensely fascinating as the one inspired by a true revolutionary of the folk music world being the foundation for a brilliant and very effective film. It is certainly not without some flaws, and the sometimes bleak tone can become quite depressing, but in a way that is effective. The film aims to explore the psychological state of someone who has been driven to the point of questioning his sanity, wondering whether he will ever actually achieve the greatness he imagined for himself all those years previously. There aren’t any neat resolutions or major moments in which he changes his ways – if anything, Llewyn ends even more disadvantaged by the time we reach those haunting final moments, as he is no longer only someone who works hard but receives very little recognition, but is now viewed as a relic, someone whose perspective grows increasingly more outdated as time progresses. It’s a very sad film, but one that has moments of humour that alleviate the tension and show us the true absurdity of the world in which we exist, finding the inherent comedy that we don’t always notice in times of great strife. Inside Llewyn Davis is an exceptional film, and unquestionably a peak for the directors, who take a very distinct approach to this material, and return results that speak to a much deeper set of themes associated with the human condition, beautifully conveyed in every frame of this extraordinary and meaningful character study.