Inside Llewyn Davis (Coen Bros, 2013) is one of the glummest movies ever, and once you get into it not much fun to watch because you keep noticing all the things wrong with it. First, the hero, Llewyn Davis, though admirably portrayed by Oscar Isaac, is such a complete asshole that we lose any sense of compassion or interest in him. Literature and cinema are filled with rascals and miscreants -- Gulley Jimson, the Ginger Man, Alfie -- but they all have redeeming features, if only a sense of joy at life and their own absurdity. Llewyn Davis, however, is a feckless parasite who casts his seed willy-nilly, steals from his sister, abandons a cat and a dying man and abuses those who try to help him. A worse problem with the movie, though, is its lack of control over tone and perspective. Matters are taken seriously indeed in terms of Llewyns folksinger career, but folk music generally is treated satirically. Also satirized, almost cruelly, are the Columbia academics and their colleagues who inexplicably befriend Llewyn and treat him like a son. The trip to Chicago, on the other hand, feels like a hallucination from Nathanael West or James Purdy. (It also smacks of desperation: Hey, bro, we gotta fill 30 minutes here. Lets send him on an American roadtrip.) In fact, the only time we feel that this film is authentic is when Llewyn Davis performs; then we feel its insight and sincerity. I realize that Inside Llewyn Davis received many accolades, but people (and reviewers) just have to watch movies more critically.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 17:20:23 +0000