A COMPLETE UNKNOWN. And on top of that, unsuccessful

A Complete Unknown – a beautiful depiction of the era and the transformations in the music industry is ruined by the lack of a compelling concept for the main character and a poorly written love triangle.

We meet Bob Dylan, true to the title, when he is still completely unknown. A boy from nowhere with a murky past, which he is eager to mythologize, enters the folk scene under the wing of Pete Seeger (wonderfully charming Edward Norton). The young musician rapidly, and seemingly without any obstacles, becomes a sensation—which is the film’s greatest mystery. Bob Dylan in Completely Unknown is portrayed as a figure utterly devoid of charisma, painfully ordinary, and indistinguishable from the other musicians. Every other artist depicted in the film—from Johnny Cash to Joan Baez—has more of that “special something,” making it hard to understand why everyone sees Dylan as the brightest star.

Dylan, as played by Timothée Chalamet, is a dull jerk and a megalomaniac—a walking cliché and a jaded egotist; an exceptionally unlikable character. Yet A Complete Unknown is decidedly not a revisionist film aiming to demythologize the American bard. The ending clearly paints Dylan as a positive figure, someone who understands and feels the winds of change. Supporters of the film praise it for refraining from moral judgment and simply accompanying the musician during the early phase of his career. I usually appreciate such balance in biopics, but in Mangold’s hands, this approach falters, as it renders the main character unbearably dull. The lack of drama in the screenplay and the sluggish 140-minute runtime further hinder engagement, leaving one questioning what, if anything, the director intended to say about Dylan and his music.

I have many issues with Chalamet’s performance. As the saying goes, “An actor has only one face.” Someone as recognizable as Chalamet cannot convincingly play Dylan; he can, at best, play Chalamet trying to faithfully replicate Dylan’s speech and mannerisms. While I have no doubt this role will earn numerous nominations and awards, to me, it borders on parody. I’m not a fan of mimicry-based acting in such a form. In my view, biopics of highly distinctive figures like Bob Dylan work better when the role is given to a less familiar face, focusing on capturing some inner truth—much like Austin Butler succeeded in Elvis. Baz Luhrmann’s film excellently portrayed Presley’s impact on culture and society, conveying his raw magnetism without devolving into a Vegas impersonation act, while also preserving a sense of mystery about the protagonist and acknowledging that his success was partly due to timing, and that Black musicians were often more talented. The goals of Mangold’s A Complete Unknown seem similar, but the execution falls short. The Polish translation of Dylan’s song lyrics in the film further diminishes his credibility as a poet.

Far more interesting than Dylan himself is the film’s backdrop: the era, political climate, and changes in the music industry. Unfortunately, these themes remain just that—background. The two women romantically involved with Dylan are also more intriguing, but Mangold seems uninterested in developing them as independent characters. Worse still, Joan Baez (an exceptional folk singer) and Sylvie Russo (modeled on the talented Suze Rotolo) are unfairly portrayed as inferior to Dylan in every way, sometimes even as naïve or pitiful. A Complete Unknown spectacularly fails the Bechdel test. Nor does it fulfill its aim of being an unconventional biography. It remains empty and repetitive in every theme it touches—art, creativity, love, fan expectations of idols—because all of it has been explored elsewhere, and better.