Chalamet’s performance, however, is flawless. He doesn’t mimic Dylan; he embodies him—his avoidant nature, the restless genius lurking beneath. He looks the part, but Mangold never allows us inside the mind of the poet, the songwriter, the cultural force.
Monica Barbaro in A Complete Unknown.
Photograph courtesy of Monica Barbaro/fb
Timothée Chalamet in A Complete Unknown.
Photograph courtesy of Timothée Chalamet/fb
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When Timothée Chalamet’s rebellious Bob Dylan took the stage at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, enraging the purists, the audience hurled objects at him. By that point in the movie, I felt the same — I wanted to throw something at the screen. A Complete Unknown had long overstayed its welcome.
James Mangold stretches this film thin, dragging us through a flat, monotonous and soulless biopic—everything Dylan’s words were not. At 2 hours and 20 minutes, it felt like eight. Not even Chalamet’s luminous portrayal, worthy of that SAG win, could inject life into this plodding narrative.
Visually, Mangold borrows the muted palette of the Coen Brothers’ Inside Llewyn Davis (2013), but his approach seems fixated on putting Chalamet’s face on screen rather than capturing Dylan’s soul — or even the political undercurrents of the time. The film’s one best moment comes when Dylan performs for Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) at Greystone Psychiatric Hospital. That’s it.
The film mostly unfolds like a checklist: meeting Sylvie (Elle Fanning), his complicated love affair with Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), and his pen-pal era with Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook) and so on.
The dynamic between Dylan and Baez offers glimpses of drama, sure, but Mangold often shifts the focus to Baez’s perspective — giving her more narrative weight than necessary. At times, the POV even drifts to Pete Seeger (a very good Edward Norton), further muddying the film’s center.
Spanning Dylan’s folk scene rise from 1961 to 1965 and loosely based on Elijah Wald’s Dylan Goes Electric!, the film merely skims the surface. It attempts a slow burn, but offers little substance. Even Dylan’s Newport rebellion — one of the most thrilling moments in music history — fails to electrify this unimaginative retelling.
Chalamet’s performance, however, is flawless. He doesn’t mimic Dylan; he embodies him — his avoidant nature, the restless genius lurking beneath. He looks the part, but Mangold never allows us inside the mind of the poet, the songwriter, the cultural force.
Watching Dylan in 1965 — strolling through New York in his Wayfarers and suede jacket, cruising on his motorbike, or smoking a cigarette — one word comes to mind: “cool.” Nothing more.
A Complete Unknown aims to capture Dylan’s enigmatic nature (hence the title, emphasizing how elusive he is), but rather than making his mystery compelling, Mangold renders him hollow.
The script and visuals lack subtext, keeping Dylan at a distance. Despite Mangold’s frequent close-ups, the film never truly lets us experience Bob Dylan. It never makes us feel how he challenged the establishment, how his music became anti-war anthems, or how he gave voice to a generation’s collective consciousness.
Despite earning a total of eight Academy Award nominations (catch the Oscars tomorrow morning on Disney+), including a directing nod for Mangold, a well-deserved Best Actor nomination for Chalamet, a Best Picture nod, and even a surprising Adapted Screenplay nomination, the film feels like nothing more than an acting playground for Chalamet.
Without Chalamet, it would be unwatchable. The cast brings authenticity, but the film lacks the spark to evoke emotion, curiosity, or excitement. It’s a laborious slideshow — overlong and flimsy, as if it could be blown in the wind.
2 out of 5 stars
Still showing in cinemas.
