Director: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen.
Writer: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Genre: Drama, Music
What
would a home be for an artist? A recognition, a praise here and there and a
smile from the recipient of the art. And what would happen to the heart of an
artist who goes broke chasing his art to a point where he has to beg for a
place to crash for the nights? It breaks.
It is hard to follow Coen Brothers School of filmmaking. The miniscule nuances it carries combined with the cynic vision to see the world from a dark glass, makes it heavy handed and atmosphere driven cinema which is certainly not everybody’s cup of tea. Inside Llewyn Davis comes from the same backdrop, high on symbolic gestures and riding on the triumph of majestic screenplay and confident direction. It is often difficult to find shelter in a protagonist, who is treated like a douchebag (or in this case, ‘asshole’) by the leading lady of the movie, Jean (Carey Mulligan); but it is the coup of the director to make us vouch for his well-being and dig that warm center of care for Llewyn somewhere inside us as the narrative progresses.
Watch Llewyn Davis from the eyes of Coen brothers and you will find a dreamer who finally hits reality and is extremely infuriated by the findings of it. Not all is heaven on this earth realizes the folk artist when he smashes a dead wall after his partner commits suicide. Unable to shell his talent for money, he becomes a disgruntled man, seeking for that one folk song, that one shot at fame and glory. What he do find is a cat, which is used as a flawless metaphor for complementing Llewyn’s state of affairs and existence.
The contrasting appeal of a genre of music which is the comfort of many a souls to the turmoil in the lives of people from whom the music arises, is so beautifully portrayed, that one is often lost in the melody and charm it weaves across us. Oscar Isaac is phenomenal in his portrayal as his eyes speaks volumes and he finally redeems himself from a shelf of poor movie roles. The screenplay adds gravitas as the claustrophobic and dejected baritones often overwhelms the quirky dry humor of the proceedings.
Inside Llewyn Davis is melancholic, poetic and soulful. It has wits and tragedies sprawled across its landscape like flowers on a grave. It is a blue dream, a refuge from the noise of the world. For all the cinephiles, it is a treat to the senses. To all others, well let me put it this way, it has Carey Mulligan, soft as a feather, crooning ‘A Hundred Miles’ on the stage.
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