Breaking Out of the Cycle: Llewyn Davis is Left Behind at the End of the Folk Revival

Last weekend, a few friends and I went to see Inside Llewyn Davis. I don't think I'd been to the theater since seeing The Master back in February (after everyone else had seen it), so it was nice to revisit the big screen. And I must say, it was definitely a good choice for a first flick back. The Coen Brothers have brought out their A Serious Man side again, and it's arguably my favorite side of their repertoire. The dark and muted cinematography—beautifully rendered by French cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel in a subtler turn from Amelie and A Very Long Engagement—takes us right back to 1960s Greenwich Village, a tricky but successful feat since the Coens like as much on-location photography as possible. Each character is dispatched so economically, so that every one of their appearances, no matter how many minutes of screen time they are given, evince a deeply believable relationship to the protagonist that is instantaneously recognizable, be it a longtime friend, a fellow traveler, or a tastemaker with the upper hand.

On the surface, the film features the titular folk singer down and out, couch-surfing his way up and down Manhattan, as he fails to jumpstart his career and insensitively steps on the toes of everyone else in his life in the process. Llewyn is lost without the other half of his musical duo: his solo effort hasn't sold any copies, and he is languishing at the darker end of the success gradient than the other musicians in his circle. During the film he strains the relationships he has with his married friends Jim and Jean, also musicians, by not respecting the former and possibly impregnating the latter. He also simultaneously takes advantage of and keeps at arms length the care of his surrogate parents in the film, the Gorfeins, an academic couple on the Upper West Side who treasure their hip "bohemian friend." He even manages to use and disappoint his sister, his only immediate relative in their right mind. In short, in a lot of ways, much his lack of success can be placed squarely on his own shoulders.

Plot-wise, the movie is framed by two stays at the Gorfein's house, two performances at the famous Gaslight Cafe, and one or two (depending on your interpretation of where this lies in the fabula of the film) alleyway beatings. At the beginning of the movie, Llewyn finds himself at the Gorfein's empty house the morning after a rough night, makes himself some breakfast, and takes off with his guitar and bag, accidentally letting the Gorfein's cat loose on his way out. At the end of the movie, he finds refuge back at the Gorfein's house after a bender and wakes up in a similarly empty house, but is sure to leave the cat indoors as he leaves. The film opens with Llewyn's performance at the Gaslight; his performance at the end of the film even features the same closing schtick. And again, Llewyn takes a pretty vicious alleyway* beating both at the beginning and the end of the film. One gets the feeling he has gone through all of this before. Indeed, even borrowing money and couch space is all too familiar to those around him for his behavior to be an occasional occurrence. He is homeless and he is a sponge trying the patience of those around him, and part of his fatigue stems from the fact that even he knows this cycle is not sustainable. After the movie, most of the friends I was with agreed that Llewyn's story was one of self-sabotage.

But I believe that this movie is bigger than just Llewyn. I don't think he's just an asshole stuck in a cycle of self-sabotage. To me, it was clear that the film was chock full of signs that Llewyn was not alone in the muck in which his wheels were spinning. While at fellow singer Al Cody's house, trying to stash his records, he finds a box of Al's own solo effort just as full as his own and sporting eerily similar cover art. Troy Nelson, the perky but perhaps tragically ironic soldier in from Fort Dix, is eager to make it big. His friends Jim and Jean are nominally more successful at drawing a crowd, but near the end of the movie Llewyn learns that Jean sleeps with the owner to earn a spot on the bill. Every wannabe knows where to play, but no one is breaking out of the scene. One of the lessons that stood out to me from these signs is that just because a scene is big or that an artistic revival is in the offing doesn't mean that it will be lucrative in its pure form.

In 1961, the year in which the film takes place, folk music was still, in the true sense of the word, trafficking in known standards and tied to the protest efforts of grassroots movements—from the true folk. To make a famous, 1960s TV-worthy career out of it, the genre would first have to evolve into something more mainstream, something Llewyn's character does not believe in. And it eventually did. But as the style of music evolved and gained popularity during the 1940s-1960s folk revival, the definition of folk music itself widened, from only encompassing traditional music and standards to connoting often original music that used similar instrumental and vocal arrangements and dealt with grassroots subject matter. Being based in 1961, Inside Llewyn Davis is not arbitrarily on the cusp of this push into popular dominance. Many of the big names of the revival (Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez) were big because they were committed to these movements, and while they may not have left the genre after its peak, their fame retreated to the background along with it during the rise of more mainstream work. This is a compromise Llewyn, and many in the pure scene, probably would not have made.

Two developments helped to change folk music into a lucrative art and take it to the next stage of its evolution, and both are present in the film. The first was the willingness of some members of the scene to lend their folk sensibilities to pop music. Jim, Justin Timberlake's character, writes and records the silly pop tune "Please Mr. Kennedy" that strikes all the right notes, name checking the president, outer space, and those rock 'n'roll stutters that are sure to make it a hit. Llewyn is enlisted to help record, but he can't help but scoff at the stupidity of it, and doesn't even bother to think ahead to what royalties he's sure to miss out on as he signs away his rights. While true folk fans might see songs like this as watered down or selling-out, real-life bands like the The Byrds and the Mamas and the Papas took off in the mainstream because of the pop-folk combination. The second development was a willingness to apply folk sensibilities to original music. Instead of sticking to the standards, as beautiful as they still are, artists like Bob Dylan sang their own poetry and simultaneously elevated and blew apart the whole genre.

Thus, it is important that the break to Llewyn's cycle of misery doesn't come from within, as it might in a typically protagonist-centered film, or to even Llewyn personally. As SM so aptly pointed out soon after we left the theater, Bob Dylan's (or more truthfully "Bob Dylan's") appearance at the Gaslight at the end of the film means that the cycle is broken for the whole folk music scene. Bob Dylan's rise to fame killed off the Greenwich folk scene, and whatever hopes the Llewyn Davises, Troy Nelsons, and Al Codys of the world had of making a career out of traditional American songs were effectively dashed. Songwriters and original music dominated the late 1960s and 1970s and the standards receded to cult status. I am not giving any commentary on folk music here; I am a big fan, and I think traditional music is both enjoyable and important. But my point is that I don't think Llewyn Davis was ever going to succeed, and the viewer is there as he finds the end of his rope.

One thing SM and I observed in a discussion about all of this is that the people most likely to make it big were the people less likely to be purists. This is true in the film as it was about the implosion of the folk scene. Llewyn may have put down Jim's ditty, but the audience knows that it might just be Jim and Jean's ticket out of the village and into the family life they want. I think part of what made Bob Dylan so successful was that he wasn't bound to a genre or a style, the music that came out of him went beyond that, reached past folk, and you could hear it. Folk was just a starting point, whereas for Llewyn and many others in the scene like him, it was the goal. There's a line in the film, after Llewyn plays for a club owner in Chicago: "I don't see any money in this." And he's right. The standards are beautiful, but, unfortunately for Llewyn, the scene was right about to come into its own.

Deadly Hymns

It took me years after watching Fallen starring Denzel Washington to listen to The Rolling Stones' "Time Is On My Side" without my blood curdling. Last night we watched Night of the Hunter, and it's going to be a long time before I hear "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" the same way again. *shudder* Have you had any songs take on alternative, eerie meanings for you in similar ways?

Stasis

Shuffle this evening: Ryan Adams - This House Is Not For Sale Sufjan Stevens - Holland The Magnetic Fields - Meaningless Snoop Dogg - Beautiful Battles - Snare Hanger There is a point at which one's music library ceases to collect and hardens into a time capsule. I'm beginning to think now is that time.

A Meandering Conversation: Lollapalooza Recap, Part 2

This is a joint blogging experiment with The Grind. I'll be covering Day 1, we'll do joint coverage of Day 2 (and post in both places), and he'll cover Day 3. 

We decided to do Part 2 conversationally, and seeing as we were face to face as is so little of our day, we decided to just record our natural conversation instead of typing it up unnaturally. Here's our conversation:



0:00 - The Black Lips
3:24 - Mayer Hawthorne
9:12 - Local Natives/"Tribal"
13:08 - Deftones
16:15 - Patrick Stump and Fall Out Boy
26:57 - Ween/Dinner
30:34 - Atmosphere
33:25 - Eminem
41:00 - Rap/Hip-hop and bad boys turned good/accepted

And there was much dancing: A Lollapalooza Recap, Part 1

This is a joint blogging experiment with The Grind. I'll be covering Day 1, we'll do joint coverage of Day 2 (and post in both places), and he'll cover Day 3.

8/6/11
First off, let me just say that Lolla exceeded my expectations. Sure, there are lots and lots and lots of people. But it helps a lot that Grant Park is big and beautiful, the perfect calming setting for such an affair. I didn't have my hopes high for the festival's layout, crowds, or audience after having been to Pitchfork Music Festival so many years, but Lolla is actually quite well-run, and the audience was more than just bros and trixies.

Day 1
We got there around 3ish, and had to wait in a really, really long line to get in and exchange our 3 day passes for wristbands. After that, though we entered into a vastness that was somehow welcoming instead of intimidating. Kudos to them for however they pulled that off. We missed Delta Spirit and Grace Potter & the Nocturnals because I was running late, but we saw most of Smith Westerns. They put on a great show, and were markedly more mature than in their appearance on AV Undercover. The impression that they'd been so young and affected had been somewhat of a turn off to me at first, but this time that youth manifested itself in humility and just a joy at being at the festival. For their penultimate song, "Weekend," (the video linked to above), we made sure to give JK a call; I hope he heard everything alright.

After that, we took a break to explore the grounds. Unlike at Union Park, the site of P4K, there are plenty of beautiful places to sit away from it all. There's just a lot more space in general, and I felt like I could breathe easier and relax without fear of elbowing my neighbor. We went back to the Playstation stage (is this supposed to be the mellow stage) to see a great set by The Mountain Goats. I was a bit worried that SM would be annoyed by his voice, but he really rocked out, and we had a good time. Frontman John Darnielle is extremely energetic, and he really had the crowd going as he skipped around onstage. I think the highlight of the set for me was "Going to Georgia."

The food options at Lolla are really great. For dinner we split a pulled pork sandwich ($7) and chicken tikka ($6) on flatbread along with a "sport bottle" of Pinot Grigio. I don't think I'd pay for the wine again, but it is a great idea to sell by the bottle, and it was quite tasty.

Best show of the night, hands down, was OK Go at the Google+ stage. I love OK Go. You may know them as the treadmill video guys, but I gotta pull out some pretension here and say that I've been loving them since 2002's breakout hit, "Get Over It" hit the airwaves in some minor way. I've kept track of them since, and loved every minute of their perfect pop/rock. I knew he was going to have fun, but SM was definitely blown away by their awesomeness. The show was just amazing, and we were dancing and singing the entire time. They closed with "This Too Shall Pass," complete with audience participation (LET IT GO, THIS TOO SHALL PASS). Wow. If this turns out to be my favorite show of the festival, I would not be disappointed.

After OK Go, our plan was to catch a half hour of Coldplay (just 'cause), watch some of Ratatat, and then meander over to Girl Talk. Our friend MT gave us the advice to go with the flow instead of rushing around driving yourself crazy trying to get to everything that sounds good. Good advice. Coldplay was great. I'd seen them in 2002, but SM hadn't, so it was with a fear that they'd just play all their craptastic, bombastic, U2-ego stuff that I agreed to join him. Well, a fear of that and never finding each other again if we separated, since AT&T fails on all accounts at such events. Anyway, the show was just as good as it was back then. They played a lot of old songs, such as "Everything's Not Lost," "Trouble," and (a couple's favorite of ours) "Shiver." Chris Martin was a lot more energetic onstage than I remember him being at the Target Center; maybe all this fame and Gwen-marriage has validated his sense of self-worth, and he's come out of his shell or something. Good for him.

We wanted to catch Ratatat, so we ducked out early and headed back to Google+ just in time for "Wildcat." We'd seen them together in 2009, and they were no less awesome. Their sound is so clean, I don't think it's possible for them to be anything less. I guess they didn't have the holograms onstage with them at The Metro...or did they? We danced mightily. And it was good. They closed with an extended version of "Seventeen Years," or maybe they just segued from that to another great song that closed off the whole evening. Girl Talk's just a bunch of mash-ups anyway, right?

The brown line back was crowded and loud, but I'm glad we got some peace and quiet between Belmont and Irving Park. All in all, I am definitely glad to have the opportunity to attend the festival. The tickets are expensive, and there are so many people, I didn't think I'd ever want to go, let alone get the chance. Thanks to EM for such a spectacular birthday present! More tomorrow.

Tribute

SM and I decided this weekend that if we ever get a dog, we will name it Danko. I think if we ever get a second dog (if you know me, you know that chances of this are slim), I'd definitely consider naming it Levon. None of our pets will ever be named Robbie.

A Post for JK: The List Issue

Some people hate lists. Admittedly, as I peruse my Google Reader every morning, the Top 5s or Top 10s give off a faint waft of desperation, a thinly-veiled call for more traffic on a website before they go all out and post a video. We all have to admit, though, that the ploy works. People are interested in spite of themselves.

Of course there are others who thrive on lists. This is my camp. There is so much information one can gather about yourself and others from a list-making session with friends. My favorite lists are those that smack of sharply personal preference, the ones that hint at an involved back-story or require an impassioned defense. I also enjoy the time capsule dimension of list-making; like Rob in High Fidelity (also, Rob's creator, Nick Hornby), I recognize the value of grooming one's lists and keeping them updated with one's current state of mind. They are always cumulative of your experiences until that point -- what you choose to remember and what you have since forgotten -- which is so interesting to think about: is the new roster a complete overhaul from the last? When did this element become a mainstay for nostalgia's sake as opposed to an earnest addition? Sometimes I like looking back on them to see what my limits were at the time or where I'd been. Sometimes it's a more tangible manifestation of my interests. I've encapsulated my current views below. There is no order to these rankings, and they are all subject to change, of course.

My top 5 books thus far (no order)
In the Heart of the Sea
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
East of Eden
The Once and Future King
Lord of the Flies
HM: A Farewell to Arms

Top 5 favorite authors
John Steinbeck
Jack Kerouac
Michael Chabon
J.D. Salinger
Doris Kearns Goodwin

My favorite movies of all time thus far (no order)
Pather Panchali (India, dir. Satyajit Ray, 1955)
The Passenger (Italy, dir. Michaelangelo Antonioni, 1975)
Apocalypse Now (USA, dir. Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
Les Enfants du Paradis (France, dir. Marcel Carné, 1945)
Bringing Up Baby (USA, dir. Howard Hawks, 1938)
Breaking Away (USA, dir. Peter Yates, 1979)

Top 5 favorite cinematographers
Vittorio Storaro
Ellen Kuras
Haskell Wexler
Robert Elswit
Ernest Dickerson
HM: Subatra Mitra, Roger Deakins

Top 5 favorite bands of the 1990s (no order)
Alice in Chains
Soundgarden
Built to Spill
Beck
Radiohead
HM: The Sea and Cake, Stone Temple Pilots

Top 5 favorite contemporary bands
The National
OK Go
Vampire Weekend
The Black Keys
Spoon
HM: Animal Collective (but they haven't put out anything new since 2009, and I didn't like MPP nearly as much as anything they'd put out previously) and Wolf Parade

Top 5 favorite contemporary artists that aren't bands
Santigold
LCD Soundsystem
Jill Scott
Erykah Badu
Mayer Hawthorne

Top 10 favorite albums of all time
Graceland - Paul Simon
Kind of Blue - Miles Davis
A Love Supreme - John Coltrane
Kid A - Radiohead
The Band - The Band
Brothers and Sisters - Allman Brothers Band
Feels - Animal Collective
Rumours - Fleetwood Mac
Billy Breathes - Phish
Weezer (Blue) - Weezer
Note: there's no Beatles album here for fear that the debate would turn into a completely separate post. There's a Beatles album for whatever mood I'm in: looking for all killer, no filler pop? Rubber Soul. A crazy awesome wannabe concept album? Sgt. Pepper. A great transitional album into the world of weird? Revolver. The problem with these judging and ranking these albums for me is the trade off between albums of all 4-star songs, like Rubber Soul, or an album full of plenty of 5-star songs among a glut of 3-star songs. It's a long debate, and I don't want to get into it...yet.

Favorite opening tracks
All I Want - Joni Mitchell - Blue
The Boy in the Bubble - Paul Simon - Graceland
Airbag - Radiohead - OK Computer
Everything in Its Right Place - Radiohead - Kid A
The Song Remains the Same - Led Zeppelin - Houses of the Holy
The King of Carrot Flowers Pt 1. - Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
Poppies - Marcy Playground - Marcy Playground
Angel - Massive Attack - Mezzanine
Taxman - Beatles - Revolver
Pt. 1: Acknowledgment - John Coltrane - A Love Supreme

Favorite closing tracks
Turn Into Something - Animal Collective - Feels
A Day in the Life - The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper
Sweet Lil Gal - Ryan Adams - Heartbreaker
Pt. 3: Pursuance/Pt. 4: Psalm - John Coltrane - A Love Supreme
Tomorrow Never Knows - The Beatles - Revolver

Top 5 favorite Beatles songs
Rain
Paperback Writer
It's All Too Much
Dear Prudence
Don't Let Me Down

Feel free to challenge me on any of these. What's on your favorites lists?