A Complete Unknown review – Timothée Chalamet radiates charisma in evocative Dylan biopic

James Mangold’s handsome portrait of the enigmatic singer’s stratospheric early career boasts a barnstorming lead performance yet often slips into heavy-handedness

It’s a remarkable performance. Star of the moment Timothée Chalamet inhabits the loose-limbed, live-wire physicality of the young Bob Dylan and makes an impressively good fist of capturing the frayed hessian of his distinctive voice. Acoustic guitars are plucked and harmonicas honked with the effortless fluency of someone who learned to play almost before they could walk. Chalamet’s Dylan sucks so fervently on his cigarettes it’s as though he’s breathing in the genius of the musical heroes who came before him. But while he radiates insouciant charisma and channels the once-in-a-lifetime talent, he reveals next to nothing about Dylan as a person. This is not necessarily a failure in Chalamet’s acting. It’s a deliberate choice – the film is called A Complete Unknown, after all, and it’s a manifesto as much as a title. But it does mean that this is more a movie about Dylan the phenomenon than Dylan the man; a picture that peers at the folk legend through the distorting lens of fame and fan worship.

As such, there’s a curious kinship between this handsome if formulaic period piece by music movie veteran James Mangold (he also directed the Johnny Cash portrait Walk the Line) and Michael Gracey’s recent Robbie Williams-as-monkey biopic, Better Man. Gracey’s film and A Complete Unknown both explore the impact of sudden and stratospheric celebrity on very young artists. Like Williams, Dylan is shown as a fully formed talent but a half-grown man. But while Williams mainlines fame like a drug and then bares his damaged soul to all, Dylan builds barricades against the encroaching tide of celebrity and protects himself with layers of assumed identities – an idea previously explored by Todd Haynes’s formally daring but frequently infuriating 2007 Dylan film I’m Not There. The sunglasses, the Triumph motorbike, the studied disinterest, the sneer – it’s all, A Complete Unknown suggests, part of the wall that Dylan constructs to protect the vulnerable part of himself, if indeed it exists.