Inside Llewyn Davis: "It's Not Enough To Have A Dream"

As kids, we're told to dream big. As teens, we're told that our dreams will come true as long as we work hard, and do whatever it takes to get into a good school. As young adults, we're pushed off into the big bad world and demonstrate what we learned in school and nab a job, get a house, and start a family, to start the process all over again. Countless films have documented the frustrating purgatory of "getting by" people navigate before their big break. Movies like, "Working Girl" and "The Devil Wears Prada" show the difficult journey of the respective protagonists, partnered with a happy ending; they've gotten what they wanted. But what happens when you don't "make it"? What happens when your dream outruns you even though you do whatever it takes to chase it down? With Inside Llewyn Davis, the Coen Brothers expertly show us that sometimes, what's standing between us and our big break, is ourselves.

The film takes place in 1961. Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) is a struggling folk-musician. When he's not playing throwaway gigs at the local bar/coffee shop, he's crashing on friend's couches, berating his "manager" (and I use that term very loosely) about the fate of his solo-record (aptly named Inside Llewyn Davis), or riding the subway in search of an answer to his problems. "Everything you touch turns to shit! You're like King Midas' idiot brother" yells frustrated Jean (played by Carey Mulligan), the wife of Llewyn's folk-singer friend Jim (Justin Timberlake).

Jean, though angry often for no reason at all, is on to something; no matter what Llewyn does, he's always messing it up. Whether it's accidentally losing his friend's cat, or screwing himself out of his last $100, nothing he does can solve how cold he is, how hungry he is, or how angry he is. And that's where most of Llewyn's problems stem from; he's an abrasive, selfish asshole. His inner anger and frustrations are taken out on other people, often who are just trying to help him get by. The other bit of his problems, stem from his ignorance; Llewyn knows that he'll never make it as a solo folk singer. "I don't see much money there" a potential manager says after hearing Llewyn play. Shortly after, he's offered the opportunity to join a group, the more marketable option, but denies it. Llewyn is constantly standing in his own way, and that doesn't change by the end of the film; he's set in his ways.

But for all of Llewyn Davis' faults, Oscar Isaac's performance makes Davis a compelling failure to watch. Diving headfirst into his first true lead role, it makes you wonder why no one has cast Isaac in a lead role before; his character isn't the most likable and yet he's still charming in his own way. The singing (all performed live, there's no backtrack), and what's truly special about Isaac's performance is that he's so guarded and iron willed, deluding himself into thinking this is all going to work out for him, but when he's singing, Isaac lays himself out naked and bare for everyone to see. The pain, the struggle, everything Davis has been fighting is out for everyone watching him sing to see on his face, and hear in his voice. He's got nothing to lose, yet somehow his nothing is everything. It's really nuanced work from Isaac. It doesn't scream Oscar in the way a lot of performance this season might, but boy is it a masterful, and deserving performance.

It really is Oscar Isaac's film, as the rest of the cast is made up of memorable deserving characters. I didn't particularly care for Mulligan's Jean; she's played a bit too uneven, but I just like Carey Mulligan so I didn't mind. Justin Timberlake's role is very small, but he's a pleasant, sunny presence in an otherwise melancholy movie. Probably the best was John Goodman as a mysterious older jazz man that Llewyn hitches a ride with to Chicago. He's hilariously entertaining, spouting out some of the best dialogue in the film.

The Coens do a great job at creating the snowy, cold, and melancholy 1960s world that Llewyn inhabits. His morose future is complimented by the similarly miserable backdrop. But for all of its melancholy, there's something downright beautiful about it all. The gorgeous cinematography really draws you into this world, and the story of Llewyn, and sets an equally appealing contrast with the folk-music being performed by the characters. There's something dark and depressing about it all, but it's a beautiful tragedy.

Through all of Llewyn's journeys in the film, the narrative brings him back to where he started, and ultimately where he will always be, no matter how far he journeys, no matter how high his voice soars; he's deeply rooted within his issues: himself.

Oscar Chances: The film stands a very good chance to be nominated for Best Picture (thanks to the expanded field for contenders), and could very well win in the Cinematography category. Oscar Isaac's performance is very deserving, and though I would nominate him based on what I've seen at this point in the year, he could be left out; that category is so competitive. The Coens could sneak into Director if there's a lot of love for the film, but that's even more unlikely than Actor. I'm not sure if Fare Thee Well (Dink's Song) performed by Marcus Mumford and Oscar Isaac is eligible, but if it is, I would hope it would be nominated in the Best Original Song category.
Grade: 9/10