A Complete Unknown, An Unlikable Man

Timothée Chalamet stars as Bob Dylan in this biopic that paints the artist as a complicated genius—a label usually reserved for celebrated narcissistic men.

Throughout history, we’ve celebrated men who are maybe not the best human beings but have some exceptional skill, talent, or charm. These men are typically considered complicated geniuses, and we’re usually willing to overlook narcissistic or selfish behavior because they’re just so brilliant.

Famous women, on the other hand, are frequently dismissed as difficult divas or delicate victims when they exhibit some of this same behavior. 

A male rockstar trashes a hotel room and it’s brushed off as fun bad-boy behavior, but a female singer has an elaborate tour rider and she’s an arrogant diva who looks down on the little people.

Funny how that works.

When the credits rolled on A Complete Unknown, this was the main idea that I couldn’t get out of my head.

Timothée Chalamet stars as Bob Dylan in this film which covers his rise to fame, his controversial decision to go electric at the Newport Folk Festival, and his relationships with Sylvie Russo (Elle Fanning), Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), and Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook), among others.

Dylan is a difficult man. He’s often self-serving, has no qualms about betraying friends, partners, or those who helped him along the way. He’s not particularly interested in politics or bettering society and he doesn’t seem to give much of a shit about being labeled the voice of a generation. 

He’s the classic “complicated genius”, the man who was frequently an asshole but who society regards as a hero because his work broke new ground. Think Steve Jobs or Marlon Brando, arguably pretty bad people who are celebrated and forgiven for any “difficult” behavior they exhibited.

Chalamet does an admirable job capturing Dylan’s voice and mannerisms and it’s very clear he did his research. It’s a skilled performance because the typically warm and affable Chalamet becomes an arrogant, indifferent Dylan, never shying away from being unlikeable. 

But aside from the bold choice of having your male protagonist be a celebrated asshole, A Complete Unknown doesn’t exactly elevate the genre of music biopics. It avoids many of the classic cliches—there’s no drug-fueled downfall or sugar-coated retelling of difficult events—but it’s not exactly delivering a bold new vision either.

The true standout of the film is Barbaro, who is incredibly captivating and gives us so much depth in what little screen time Baez is afforded by this story. I found myself wanting them to cut to her and stay there so we could celebrate her talent and explore how she felt about the way Dylan treated her. Frankly, it would have been a much more interesting movie with more of her in it.

Norton is similarly impressive, helping Dylan get his start and being one of few people who truly believe in the cause they claim to fight for. Seeger is also how the film shows Dylan starting to pull away from the people who cared for him and fostered his success. He’s willing to betray these friends, but because he’s a “complicated genius” he’s actually just doing it because he’s about to change the world and can’t let anyone stand in his way.

Holbrook also lights up his scenes as Johnny Cash, well-tread ground for director James Mangold. Cash’s attitude inspires Dylan to pursue his passions, which sounds great, but also serves to make him more narcissistic and thus more unlikeable. 

It’s interesting how men are allowed to be off-putting and unpleasant and still be the protagonist of a film and yet when female characters are branded unlikeable, it can incite an internet mob and tank a movie.

And I’m certainly not arguing that A Complete Unknown should fail. If anything, I want films with unlikeable women to also succeed. I want a historical woman who is kind of an asshole to be celebrated as a complicated genius and have one of Hollywood’s biggest young stars play her in an award-season biopic. Not a end-of-life glimpse of an aging eccentric, not a camp expose of an abusive legend, not a tragic tale of addiction destroying talent, just a woman who is selfish, abrasive, arrogant, and generally unlikeable, but celebrated by the film as a brilliant genius whose attitude should be appreciated or at least forgiven.

At the end of the day, A Complete Unknown is a good film, but with a cast like this, it should have been a great film. Maybe if Dylan smiled more or acted more likable, it would have broader appeal.