Stepping out of *A Complete Unknown* and onto the lively streets of New York City—close to the very spots Bob Dylan roamed during his wandering days in the 1960s—I experienced a feeling of emptiness and unease. James Mangold’s biographical film, rather than unveiling the depths of the legendary singer-songwriter’s soul, keeps Dylan shrouded in mystery. However, as time goes by, I’ve come to understand that this was Mangold’s intent from the start.
Dylan’s lyrics in tracks such as “The Times They Are A-Changin'” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” struck a chord with his generation and still motivate those who came after. At 83, Dylan continues to be a monumental figure—not only in folk music but throughout rock and American music overall. His words resonate with many, leading us to believe we might connect with him as well. Just like with any celebrities whose work we cherish or personas we idolize, we wish to think they are somewhat like us. Yet, as Mangold gently reminds us, *they owe us nothing regarding their inner lives.* Even after sixty years in the limelight, Dylan remains—despite his chaotic tweets and public image—a puzzle.
The film’s title, taken from Dylan’s lyrics in “Like a Rolling Stone,” establishes the mood right from the beginning. *A Complete Unknown* immerses its audience in the folk era of the 1960s with intricate detail and a talented cast portraying icons like Dylan, Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Johnny Cash, and Joan Baez. Still, it declines to follow the standard Hollywood biopic pattern of clarifying its subject. From the opening scene to the closing shot, Dylan (played by Timothée Chalamet) is depicted as a figure both among the people and distinct from them. He defies being bound by societal conventions, romantic aspirations, genre limitations, or community expectations. Is this genuine authenticity or a meticulously crafted persona? Perhaps we really don’t want to uncover the truth.
### *A Complete Unknown* chronicles Dylan’s ascent and the monumental shift of his electrifying turn.
Based on Elijah Wald’s book *Dylan Goes Electric! Newport, Seeger, Dylan, and the Night That Split the Sixties*, Mangold’s film kicks off in 1961 New York City. A scruffy, lean Dylan (Chalamet) strides through downtown Manhattan clutching a newspaper clipping, on a quest to find the hospice where his idol, Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), is—paralyzed and silenced yet not alone. Dylan’s journey leads him to New Jersey, where he meets folk icon Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), a man who not only performs political songs but also defends them against a government suspicious of their influence.
The bond between Dylan, Guthrie, and Seeger is immediate and compelling, solidified by a song Dylan plays to win over his heroes. Before long, Dylan secures his spot in Greenwich Village’s folk scene and in the embrace of Sylvie Russo (Elle Fanning), a captivating artist and activist inspired by Dylan’s actual ex, Suze Rotolo. But as Dylan’s career takes off, the narrative leaps ahead to 1965, when his choice to go electric at the Newport Folk Festival risks alienating his fanbase and early supporters.
### Timothée Chalamet embodies Dylan’s allure and contradictions.
Chalamet’s portrayal of Dylan is sincere yet maddening—a conscious decision. Whether he’s charming Sylvie or performing for Guthrie, young Dylan comes across as someone intentionally shaping his own legend. Among his male counterparts, this self-creation is seen as part of his artistry. Yet for the women in his life, it stirs conflict where illusion meets reality.
To his male peers, Dylan is effortlessly cool and chaotically magnetic. To the women, he emerges as a charming but self-absorbed individual. Sylvie, living with him, presses for the “real” Bob, while Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), his occasional lover and rival, confronts his arrogance and selfishness directly. In one scene, Dylan crashes into Joan’s hotel room, derides her artistry, and nonchalantly seizes her guitar—an act that carries layers of both intimacy and disrespect.
Chalamet depicts Dylan as a self-absorbed artist reliant on others for support while projecting an illusion of independence. His performance captures Dylan’s poetic rogue façade while exposing his flaws. Chalamet’s inherent charm softens some of Dylan’s harsher traits, but the portrayal does not shy away from the singer’s selfishness and recklessness.
### Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, and Monica Barbaro excel in supportive roles.
Mangold’s screenplay leans on the supporting cast to convey the emotions Dylan himself keeps at bay. Norton, Fanning, and Barbaro deliver remarkable performances that infuse the film with depth and humanity.
Norton’s Pete Se