Feel the crunch of popcorn underneath your feet as you make your way into A Complete Unknown. As its title suggests, there is an unrevealed depth, a potential new layer, to Timothée Chalamet’s adaptation of Bob Dylan. Where it will go from here, what we can expect from the director who brought us Ford v Ferrari and Walk the Line, is on-the-nose work and caricatures which will prove exciting for awards bodies. No harm there. It has worked before, it will work again, why change such a formula? But bringing Dylan requires a level of disconnect to the artist, something neither Chalamet nor Mangold does not seem to bring. We can only speculate, waiting for the moment A Complete Unknown releases, but the signs of doubt are all there. Their impossible task may crumble.
Chalamet is an exceptional performer. His breach into pop culture with Bones and All, Dune and Little Women is preceded by sharp yet brief understandings of his more intimate detail as an actor with previous biopic work Beautiful Boy and Call Me by Your Name. He certainly has the name value necessary to carry a larger, Hollywood-style project (take Wonka and Dune: Part Two as examples). But the trouble here is in his brief spots of work there is little, if anything, to suggest a grasp for the biographical feature. A Complete Unknown will mark his second biopic work, his first as a recognisable public figure. Starring as Dylan is no small feat. Nothing but the best will in the world for Chalamet and Mangold who, ambitious as they are in adapting this career, are likely biting off more than they can chew.
A straight-shooting biopic is not a sure-fire way to bring Dylan to life on-screen. Obsessives and those who absorb the historic period of releases, of personal details and performance, will no doubt pick holes in those slight variations of the truth. Chalamet is the wrong man for the Dylan adaptation experience because his body of work, from Bones and All to The French Dispatch and right back to Hot Summer Nights, does not lend itself to abstract interpretations. The trouble is – and granted this is from the trailers and interviews alone, the presentation of Dylan and the feel Chalamet has for the man – the word caricature begins to circle. It is not the first time Mangold has worked in broad strokes. He did so for Johnny Cash when Joaquin Phoenix rose to the occasion, elevating a rather detail-free adaptation which focused more on the drama circling at the time than of the impact.
Marrying the two is crucial but there are signs this may not be the case as Cash’s place makes for an appearance in A Complete Unknown along with Woody Guthrie and Joan Baez. Those additions make for a streamlined story, one where the lead performance must be nailed not just in the similarities of manner, appearance and character but in the elevation of the performance as more than background detail. Biopics of the last few years suffer from a lack of visual excellence. They are stock and narrow in their attitude to their topic which remains a remarkably dense way to work. We can only hope A Complete Unknown does not follow suit. There are reasons to be cheerful, and to stay excited given the decent range found in previous Mangold biopic, Walk the Line, but whether Chalamet has the range to provide that enigmatic force, that layer of unexplainable genius Dylan held during this period, is yet to be seen.
What cannot be overstated is the consistency of which Chalamet performs. He was wooden in Wonka, monotone but an exceptional support in Bones and All and emotionally volatile in Call Me by Your Name. He has not tapped into that in over half a decade. For it to appear in A Complete Unknown would be a resounding surprise and feel similar in its intent, the breakdown of a relationship paired with the personal success or lesson learned a close one. Reliable draws in Elle Fanning and Monica Barbaro can hopefully be found, but all the expected slots of the biopic genre of late are coming to light. The wizened father-like figure providing advice with Edward Norton, the love triangle featuring Fanning and Barbaro, the rest are other contemporary artists shifting around at the time, footnotes in the real-world story but pops of colour when adapting the times.
Todd Haynes is, inevitably, the man to look toward during this period of Dylan. I’m Not There got it right and stuck to its guns, to understand the elusive manner in which Dylan works. Trying to get a hold on the man who wrote Blood on the Tracks is like salmon fishing with your hands. If you do get a grasp, it is not going to be for long. To expect Chalamet, or any actor for that matter, to hold onto the magic that made Dylan such an elusive figure (one which is still doused in mystery and intrigue) is a bold ask for a film which looks to be playing it safe. There is no room for safety in adapting the greats of the industry, the poets or musicians who come to define a generation. An artist must be as bold as the actor they are portraying and Chalamet, apart from a somewhat likeness and a dedication to preparing himself for the role with unreleased tapes and vocal exercises, does not appear to have it.
All we can do is wish Chalamet well. He is a capable actor who has strong work under his belt. However, the adaptive process and the lack of standout performances may hinder his ability and control of the material. It is no Cate Blanchett puffing on cigarettes with curled hair and blacked-out sunglasses, the same period Haynes adapted proved with mystery comes intimacy. Some may not care for it, but there will be those in the audience who appreciate the seemingly direct and easy-to-follow narrative structure A Complete Unknown is aiming for. But it, and the Chalamet performance seen in clips and footage so far, appears to be missing the point. You cannot contain a gas. Chalamet has been given the outfit and the makeup needed to look the part. Whether he can play it up as well as the likes of Ben Whishaw or Heath Ledger is yet to be seen, but we can take an educated guess.
Timmie lacks true grit.