This fictional portrait of a musician who’s down on his luck in the 1961 Greenwich Village folk scene is so striking because the film takes after the music. It’s an old folk song turned into cinema. It’s a simple frame onto which the Coen brothers hang commentary on art vs. commerce, crossing burned bridges and how sometimes the whole world seems united in trying to humble a person. This is not a narrative about whether or not Llewyn Davis ultimately succeeds in music nor is it about how his many strained relationships will or won’t be resolved. Those are other stories (other “songs”). This is about one short period in his life. It’s a vivid sketch of a time and a place, an excerpt from a journey. It reserves the right to go out open-ended.
No, Llewyn Davis himself isn’t Joe Likable. No problem, though. Saints aren’t very interesting. Llewyn’s got deep flaws, which the desperate and penniless artist’s life only makes worse. Much like how Llewyn doesn’t have a good coat for the Northeastern winter, he has imperfect defenses for the coldness of the music business. You can’t blame a man for shivering in the snow and you can’t blame a man for being angry when the world kicks him around. You don’t have to pardon him, but at the very least, you can try to understand him a little. His bitterness didn’t come from nowhere.
Llewyn’s redemption is his dedication to music. It’s what makes him worth following. It provides the earnestness in this film’s dark heart. Llewyn can’t play or sing a note that he doesn’t mean. He’d rather be back out in the snow. He has one moment of compromise here (playing session man on a novelty record) and then he doesn’t even take full financial advantage of it. When offered another chance to sell out, he refuses. If he was successful, actions like this would be admirable and heroic. Instead, he’s destitute, so it’s all a big mess.
If you have unrealized artistic ambitions, this is a film that could talk you out of them. It could also have the opposite effect. Like all great things, this is inspirational. It’s alive and open-hearted, beautifully shot in a glowing near-sepia tone and full of sadness, rage and humor. At the very least it’s a reminder if you’re going to go for broke and dedicate your whole self to art, one of the first things you should do is get some warm clothes. Because it’s chilly out there.