A Greenwich Village-era Dylan biopic; anger issues in the London suburbs; a real-time restaging of the first Saturday Night Live…

A COMPLETE UNKNOWN When the wild, rambling film of the Rolling Thunder Revue was released back in 2019, it came with the subtitle “a Bob Dylan story by Martin Scorsese”, in what felt like a nod to the endless stream of franchise extensions that come tagged as “a Star Wars story” or “a Mad Max saga”. It cutely suggested that, with the MCU floundering, the 2020s might see a full flowering of the Bob Dylan Extended Universe, with movies, miniseries and, eventually, collectable figurines dedicated to the lost highways, side quests and minor characters of His Back Pages.

If so, then A Complete Unknown is the “New Hope” of the Bobiverse, telling our hero’s journey in time-honoured fashion. A young farmboy, raised in the wastelands of the Midwest, heeds the call of a shambling, hermetic mentor (Woody Guthrie), and travels to the distant planet of Greenwich Village, 1961, where he absorbs the force of the folk revival. He falls in with an eccentric band of rogues (Dave Van Ronk, Albert Grossman, Johnny Cash), meets what seems to be his true love (“Sylvie Russo”, a version of Suze Rotolo), and begins his journey to the dark heart of the 1960s. He survives setbacks and romantic ordeals, takes up his mystical weapon (a 1964 Sunburst Fender Stratocaster) and travels to the belly of the beast (Newport Festival 1965) where he vanquishes the dark father (Pete Seeger) before heading out on his Triumph Tiger motorcycle for the open road once more.

Five years in the making, James Mangold’s film is a rich, handsome and largely faithful retelling of this beloved old standard. Even more than the Coen Bros’ Inside Llewyn Davis, it conjures the buzz, hum, slush and drone of a Greenwich Village full of cranks, seers and, yes, tambourine men. It assembles a sterling supporting cast including Scoot McNairy (Business Bob from Once Upon A Time In Hollywood) as the ailing Woody, hospitalised with Huntington’s but still raging against the dying of the light, Ed Norton giving a career peak performance as the idealistic, conflicted Pete Seeger (it’s hard to believe he was only a late addition after Benedict Cumberbatch dropped out – it’s impossible to imagine another actor in the role) and Dan Fogler, fresh off portraying Francis Ford Coppola in the misbegotten The Offer, threatening to steal yet another show with his Albert Grossman (possibly the most rock’n’roll performance in the film). Versatile actor Timothée Chalamet is the quizzical eye of the gathering storm. Having prepared over the past decade by playing a series of messianic freaks, from the student revolutionary Zeffirelli in Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch to Paul Atreides in Dune and the young Willie Wonka, he seems abundantly prepared for the role, nailing the hobo stroll, the mercurial moods and the inscrutable cool. Covid delays gave him time to master the songbook, and he’s a revelation as a singer, performing over 40 songs, from the early, flinty “Song To Woody” right up to the ferocious“Like A Rolling Stone” amidst the havoc of Newport. His musical performance is by far the best thing about the film – it’s hard to resist joining in with the applause of those early, confounded, enchanted audiences.