A Complete Unknown

Directed by James Mangold (2024) ***

With so many documentaries about Bob Dylan on the market, as well as a cottage industry of Dylan biographies, autobiographies, memoirs, analyses, histories of the ’60s Greenwich Village scene, etc, it’s questionable whether we need a standard Hollywood biopic of the early ’60s troubadour. The material has been so already worked over, mined for any and every gem which can be repackaged and resold, that it seems there’s little left to say. (Even peripheral characters on the scene have been fleshed out and represented, such as folk singer Dave Van Ronk, who the Coen brothers used as the basis of their tragic comedy Inside Llewyn Davis, 2013). James Mangold’s A Complete Unknown, mostly confirms this. It brings to life many known stops along the way to Dylan’s “going electric” at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival and is on occasion better than it needs to be, but not always with historical accuracy.

Timothée Chalamet (Dune), the master of so many varying types of acting roles over the past several years, can add Dylan to his notch. While he doesn’t attempt to duplicate the singer’s nasal pitch (noteworthy even in Dylan’s earliest recordings), he has the mannerisms and cadences down pat, studying and mastering the young poet’s body language. Although the spotlight is, naturally, on Chalamet, it’s Edward Norton as Pete Seeger who’s the real revelation. I never would have imagined him to so ably, so uncannily, capture all of Seeger‘s complex and sometimes contradictory aspects: his talent, optimism and integrity, his resolve, honesty and fierce determination, that the folk music idiom can not only bring people together but can also be practiced by all. Norton gets my vote as the best supporting actor of 2024 (and he makes the argument that a film centering on Seeger would not be out of place).

A Complete Unknown is a completely straightforward proposition, telling its tale chronologically starting with January 1961, with Robert Zimmerman (now calling himself Bob Dylan, after Dylan Thomas), arriving in New York from Minnesota in order to perform and meet the ailing folk hero Woody Guthrie. Adapted from the book Dylan Goes Electric! Newport, Seeger, Dylan, and the Night That Split the Sixties, by Elijah Wald, it hits all the expected marks in the singer’s journey: meeting Guthrie, Pete Seeger and fellow cafe folk singer Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro, Top Gun: Maverick) and becoming romantically involved with Suze Rotolo, here renamed Sylvie Russo by Dylan’s request, and played with empathy by Elle Fanning (A Rainy Day in New York).

James Mangold and co-writer Jay Cocks know that trying to explain or psychologically penetrate an artist who made sure to be an enigma would be an impossible task, so they smartly don’t try. They instead “merely” present meticulously recreated scenes from a well-known story and trajectory. Dylan, who homed in so relentlessly on achieving fame, seemed to hate it as soon as it happened to him, hiding behind his famous sunglasses, relentlessly smoking, trading acerbic barbs with the press (not shown here), writing increasingly inscrutable lyrics, treating nearly all around him, even those who cared about him, with barely concealed derision. That he was on a revolutionary artistic journey there is no doubt (and the film should have made more of this important aspect); he was the first to apply the techniques of surrealistic beat poetry to his folk lyrics and the first to merge folk with rapidly progressing rock — inspiring The Beatles and The Rolling Stones to greater lyrical and musical heights and practically prompting the ’60s careers of The Byrds, Simon and Garfunkel, Donovan, and a multitude of lesser artists.

The influence Dylan was having on the music world is barely alluded to in A Complete Unknown. The focus of the screenplay is the culmination of Dylan’s relationship with the folk community at the ’65 Folk Festival. Dylan playing straightforward rock and roll shouldn’t have been a shock to the crowd, as he had already released some on his most recent LP (and the film neglects to mention that as far back as 1962 Dylan had released a Columbia rockabilly 45, “Mixed-Up Confusion”, which was withdrawn from the market — probably because it would interfere with Columbia’s marketing of the singer as a folk artist). Despite some concessions to popular artists, though (like Johnny Cash‘s rockin’ combo and The Paul Butterfield Blues Band), straight rock wasn’t the purpose or the mission of the festival. Dylan’s opening hard rock track, “Maggie’s Farm”, not only sounded blistering hot (on both the film soundtrack and in historical recordings), but also functioned as a declaration of freedom from, and rejection of, the folk scene itself:

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them

It’s still debated today how much of the crowd booed Dylan and his band that night and, of those that did boo, it’s not certain why they booed: was it the music itself or the poorly mixed sound system? We’ll never really know. But, when in doubt, print the legend.

It would be thirty-seven years before Dylan would appear at the Newport Folk Festival again — this time cantankerously wearing a wig and fake beard.

James Mangold and Jay Cocks reshape facts and create a lot of fictions in order to present a five-year period in one feature film. Some are of little narrative consequence (Dylan didn’t arrive in New York alone; he didn’t first meet Guthrie in a hospital); others give wrong and lopsided views of the Greenwich Village scene. Apart from Joan Baez, none of Dylan’s fellow musicians and friends of the time and era are shown: Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, Richard and Mimi Fariña, Dave Van Ronk, Phil Ochs, Peter, Paul & Mary; Neil Young was even a part of the scene. Dylan’s first performance at Gerde’s Folk City was in support of the legendary John Lee Hooker (again, not shown in the film). It’s as if Dylan and Baez were the entire local folk scene. More egregious (and more apt to anger Dylanologists) is that Mangold transfers the taunting crowd cry of “Judas!” from a 1966 concert in Manchester, England, to the ’65 folk concert. It feels, and is, out of place here.

Mangold and Cocks also add in a few small patronizing narrative zingers, as if the audience is comprised of small children in need of guidance. When Dylan arrives in the Village, he immediately passes by a tambourine-playing street busker. Is this supposed to be the (too obvious) inspiration for “Tambourine Man”? Later, Peter Seeger admonishes Dylan to be careful on his motorcycle, too obviously looking
forward to Dylan’s 1966 motorcycle accident.

On the plus side, the musical performances were all done live and Monica Barbaro’s Joan Baez provides gorgeous singing. Boyd Holbrook (Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny) is a bracing Johnny Cash (who Mangold explored in his 2005 film, Walk the Line), rebellious to the establishment but a good friend to Dylan. Dan Fogler (The Walking Dead) is perfect as the unctuous manager Albert Grossman; Norbert Leo Butz (The Exorcist: Believer) plays the Dylan-challenged folk historian Alan Lomax. It’s fun to luxuriate in all the period detail (especially the reconstruction of the early ’60s Columbia records offices and recording studio). An especially fine scene recreates the studio creation of “Like a Rolling Stone” including the moment when Al Kooper (Charlie Tahan, Ozark) slips into the studio and, unasked, accompanies the band on organ, creating a classic, indelible musical moment; afterward, Dylan asked that the organ be made louder in the mix. (I recommend reading Greil Marcus’ book, Like a Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads, the best book on the creation of a single song that I’ve read).

In short, A Complete Unknown‘s music is transcendent.

—Michael R. Neno, 2025 January 13