Never been a Dylan fanboy, but was curious about... the mystique. Why were so many who supposedly knew better (much better) reduced to Swiftian level mesmerization at the mere mention of his name? Are the legendary level lyrics superseding the barely proficient vocal ability and musical command enough to justifiably raise him to his godlike, mythical status?
If ya asked me, he'd be just one of many stars in the universe of that particular time, stars of whose work I admire, love and respect to a much higher degree. But not here to argue, nor will A Complete Unknown answer or settle much of anything. What it does, is supply a decent scenario as to the time, background and circumstances that allowed the meteoric rise to occur. Actually, it doesn't even do that. In the film, Dylan arrives in NYC in his scraggily jeans and plaid shirt, spontaneously hooks up with the right people, who get him the right gigs, and practically overnight- studio, album... godlike fame! Who knew?!?
There's also a certain electrical problem, but I digress... If you're looking for insight, understanding, an insider's knowledge as to what made him tick and allowed him to set the scene afire- ain't gonna happen. The movie succeeds in the performances. Timothy Chalamet is utterly convincing in portraying the young upstart center of the universe- as convincing as anyone could possibly portray a person completely unknown to everyone including himself.* BTW, Edward Norton is every bit as incredulously convincing as Pete Seeger,** a completely transparent human being, the polar opposite of Dylan. Interestingly, one does get some measure of the intricacies in the love/hate/mutual respect tennis match between Dylan and Baez (another name startingly portrayed). Curiously, we also learn how Dylan and Johnny Cash formed their mutual admiration society! And alas, as in most biopics, a good amount of the scenarios portrayed did not actually happen as depicted...
Recommended? Absolutely! Although there's one more thing I'd sure like to know- how did the scruffy looking vagabond from '61 evolve into one of fashion's ultimate Mod icons by '65?
*One thing I'll always give Dylan props for was when Ed Bradley of 60 Minutes fame asked him how on earth he thought up his (Nobel winning) lyrics, to which he responded that they literally wrote themselves as if dropped from the ether. Which in my mind only supports the hypothesis that our brains are merely the individual receivers of a mutual mass consciousness, not its individual creator. If you listen to many of his 'interviews,' you'd swear Dylan got a body double and instructed him to say (or mumble) whatever he liked- no matter what would fall out of the imposter's mouth, it would be greeted with unparalleled gravitas... Listen to interviews of Malcolm X or Edward Snowden- you immediately sense you are in the presence of pure, unabated intellect. Listen to Dylan and it's pure... WTF?
**Much as I respect the guy, there's a banjo twangling 24/7 in the background of my particular version of hell.
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