The movie opens with Bob Dylan, played by Timothee Chalamet, arriving in New York, fresh off the bus. He glances around and looks at the sights, and even though it is evident that he’s never been there before, you can tell from his demeanor that he is a man on a mission. He struts around with confidence, even when asking for directions.

This intro is unlike the opening of another Chalamet film, Wonka, where he arrives right off the boat similarly. The fresh scent of possibility is in the air. The future is full of untapped potential. He then proceeds to see the sights and ask for directions.

While the films have not much more in common than that, it does underscore the trajectory of Chalamet’s career, jumping from one beloved icon to another. It also calls to attention his range as a performer. Because yes, in both films, he does his singing. 

But while Wonka was an inspirational, feel-good tale of positivity and making one’s way in the world, A Complete Unknown is a darker, more grounded tale of life, music, and self exploration and expression. In both cases, Chalamet acquits himself admirably.

Edward Norton plays Pete Seeger, a folk singer-songwriter and social activist who takes the young Dylan under his wing, showing him around and getting him gigs to make a name for himself slowly. In one of these shows, Dylan meets Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), a more seasoned folk singer with whom he has a tumultuous personal and professional relationship. Other notable figures in folk music that appear are Woody Guthrie (Sam McNairy) and Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook).

Plenty of classic American folk-songs are featured in the film, and it is a true treat to see them performed on the big screen. Those who grew up in that era, listening to those songs and remembering the energy of the time will find themselves humming the tunes and
remembering those days fondly. The young ones in the audience, though, will probably not find them all too familiar.

This is not, however, a movie to watch if you want to get to know more about the Dylan. The film doesn’t do much to make you understand Dylan as a person. If you knew of him, you would see all of his mannerisms and eccentricities, but it doesn’t explain how he became that way.

Instead, he seems to have burst onto the scene fully formed. Yes, he was practically penniless when he first stepped off the bus. Still, even then, he had his confidence, was already writing songs, and was instantly impressive and attention-grabbing wherever he went.

Dylan acts as an unreliable narrator, neither confirming nor denying facts about his past when confronted. He said, “People make up their past. They remember what they want and forget the rest.” The film’s creators took that to heart.

Nor does the film make any attempt to make him seem likable. He lives in his bubble of ambition, in a world of his creative expression with few meaningful outside interactions, let alone meaningful influences.

Part of the appeal then, for sure, is the mystique. The man of mystery is a powerful aphrodisiac, and throughout the film, Dylan retains that sense of being different from everyone else. As disagreeable or impenetrable as he may seem, he still has an arresting attraction that keeps one watching to see where it all goes.

This movie engages in myth-building, not so much history. Chalamet says in one interview that the movie is a fable, not a fact for fact Wikipedia entry. As much as Director James Mangold may have intended to separate the man from the icon, the movie ultimately lifts him even more. 

Like something out of a Richard Bach novel, Dylan enters this lower world as if from a higher plane of existence, tries to make it better, is frustrated by everyone else’s inability to understand and then does things his way, leaving the decision to believe and follow up to us.

In the end, aside from the enduring musical and cultural legacy he leaves behind on his somewhat isolated journey, Dylan, the man, the musician, and the icon, remains in many respects, a complete unknown.