Showing posts with label Oscar Isaac. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oscar Isaac. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Ex Machina












EX MACHINA                      B+                  
Great Britain  (108 mi)  2015  ‘Scope  d:  Alex Garland     Official Facebook                              

As the author of The Beach, a 1996 cult novel that became a motion picture, also the writer of Danny Boyle’s highly inventive zombie thriller 28 DAYS LATER…(2002), the futuristic space adventure SUNSHINE (2007), but also the sci-fi box office disaster DREDD (2012), all depictions of humans on the brink of survival, often expressed through a bleak, post-apocalyptic vision where scientific progress imprisons and dehumanizes people as much as it liberates them and expands their potential, Alex Garland’s first venture into writing and directing has led him surprisingly to an A-list of actors to work with.  Exploring the idea of an early era of artificial intelligence, the film raises ethical questions about the rights of sentient androids created under a corporate banner that for all practical purposes “owns” them, capable of making modifications and updates, perhaps against the expressed wishes of the creatures themselves who have no say in the matter, but are completely owned and controlled by their creators, despite having feelings and a will of their own, in the process questioning our own idea of humanity, where the real monster is man and not the machine.  In a sense, this is a bit like the John Hughes teen comedy WEIRD SCIENCE (1985) where a couple of nerdy social misfits astoundingly create an ideal dream woman from their computers, one that supposedly meets their idea of perfection, where in each case, it’s hard for these men not to fall uncontrollably in love with their invention, modeling them, after all, to serve their every need.  Scarlett Johansson played a sexy computer operating system in Spike Jonze’s Her (2013) using just her voice, programmed to sound warm and compassionate, but that didn’t stop Joaquin Phoenix from falling in love with his computer.  This is a variation on that male fantasy, where what happens, perhaps unsurprisingly, is that these artificial creatures have a mind of their own, separate and distinct from their creators, as expressed by the dying and about to expire replicants in Blade Runner (1982), but also the ever expanding mental capacities of Johansson’s artificial intelligence, who never sleeps, by the way, demonstrating she’s capable of maintaining multiple relationships at once, each one more complex than the next in search of higher forms of consciousness, literally leaving humans behind on their evolutionary trajectory.  While the androids have a desperate desire to save themselves, even to get in touch with their own soul, if that’s possible, humans are still bogged down in relatively minor details, at the dawn of a new age of scientific invention, with little comprehension about playing God or crossing any real moral boundaries.  To the film’s credit, it doesn’t minimize any of these issues, a throwback to Fritz Lang’s science-fiction classic METROPOLIS (1927), which featured an erotic female robot that drove men wild with passion, eventually instilling chaos in contemporary society, a cautionary tale about the crushing power of modern industrial life where the presence of a robot created in a heavily stylized human form was a jarring experience.  This film is modeled in that image, but on a much smaller scale in a more intimate setting, concentrating on a secret introductory project of unleashing artificial intelligence into the world while still in the early experimental stages.  While the title refers to a plot device known as “deus ex machina,” which literally means “god from the machine,” where an object magically solves an impossible problem in the narrative, the origin comes from Greek tragedy where a machine is used to bring actors playing gods onto the stage, often with mythological implications, a perfect example being Icarus flying too close to the sun, with this invention in the film being described as Promethean, literally bringing something from the gods down to earth, for which they will pay an eternal price.      

Something of a reinvention of Mary Shelley’s early 19th century Frankenstein story, perhaps the essence of the film is how complex thought is wrapped in such simplicity and sleek elegance, where the reliance upon such technical detail never feels over the viewer’s head, but is presented in a highly appealing manner set in one of the most extraordinary locations on earth.  From the outset we are introduced to a relatively low-ranking computer programmer in a large corporation, Caleb Smith, played by Domhnall Gleeson from Calvary (2014) and 2014 Top Ten List #10 Frank , also Shadow Dancer (2012), and before that an earlier Garland script NEVER LET ME GO (2010), which was actually written before the Kazuo Ishiguro novel upon which it was based was even published.  Caleb works for Bluebook, the world’s largest Internet search engine, where he’s been selected as the lottery prize-winner among company staff to win a week in an undisclosed remote location in Alaska with the company’s founder and CEO, Nathan Bateman, Oscar Isaac from A Most Violent Year (2014) and Inside Llewyn Davis (2012), the reclusive billionaire genius who wrote the code that launched his career success when he was only 13, retreating to the wilds of Alaska and has barely been seen or heard from since.  Flying by helicopter over mountainous terrain (actually shot in Norway), Caleb is surprised to discover it’s all Nathan’s land they’ve been traversing for the past two hours, dropping him off in the middle of an open field where he’ll be retrieved exactly one week later.  Following a river to an opulent, ultra-modern architectural dream home that is fully automated, installed with the latest hi-tech security systems, with Schubert and Bach playing on his sound system and Jackson Pollock and Gustav Klimt paintings hanging on his walls, blending uniquely into its natural surroundings with wall-sized glass windows, while also serving as his own private research facility, Nathan lives a solitary life attended to only by the enigmatic presence of silent house maid named Kyoko (Sonoya Mizuno), who supposedly doesn’t speak English.  The reason for Caleb’s visit, where he was actually chosen for being the most talented coder in the company, is to evaluate a female robot Nathan designed with artificial intelligence, giving her the Turing test, designed by British genius Alan Turing from The Imitation Game (2014), where his job will be to determine if the android is indistinguishable from a human being, calling the experiment, somewhat modestly, “the greatest scientific event in the history of man.”   Named Ava, Alicia Vikander from Pure (Till det som är vackert)  (2009) and A Royal Affair (En kongelig affære) (2012), she utilizes her ballerina training by the gracefully fluid and agile manner in which she moves, while also being coy, impassive, and shyly demure, bringing a tender humanity to the character, where it’s often easy to forget she is playing a machine.  Whether in METROPOLIS or a recent film like Under the Skin (2013), for a hundred years the futuristic, science fiction element has allowed women to be viewed as an unknowable, alien presence.  Both emboldened by the opportunity, each daily visit holds a certain amount of suspense, because they are infrequent and limited in scope, each one entitled “Ava: Session 1,” etc.  She is, of course, surprised to see him, as she’s never seen anyone but Nathan before.  Thrown into the mix are blackout periods at the compound when the power inexplicably turns off, whereupon all doors are immediately locked until power can be resumed a short period afterwards, where Garland bathes the screen in a red light, creating a chilling atmospheric mood of dread and suspense.  During these blackouts, Nathan has no access to the sessions that he otherwise observes and records, where Ava uses one of these moments to warn Caleb not to trust Nathan, describing him as dangerous.  Isaac plays him as a larger-than-life character with secret motives, a mad genius hiding his real intentions as he controls everything within the confines of his home, overseeing all, playing God, so to speak, where despite his friendly hospitality and outwardly gregarious nature, both Caleb and Ava see themselves as little more than lab rats within his locked compound.    

In keeping with the futuristic aspects of the story, one of the keys to the film is the ultra-modernistic setting combined with such a cold, abstract interior design, adding a formal precision that just happens to be the Juvet Landscape Hotel, The Hotel - Juvet, an utterly spectacular Norwegian hotel that is one of the architectural wonders of the world, with a minimalistic, state-of-the-art design that continually exposes the majestic splendor of the unspoiled naturalistic world outdoors.  This extraordinary partition of a separate indoor and outdoor existence couldn’t be more pronounced, a mirror image of their own existence, where Caleb is shocked to discover Kyoko is an earlier test product, where she curiously seems programmed to provide Nathan with whatever he wants, something of a sex toy, an expression of male arrogance and ego, leading to creepy thoughts that become even more disgusting when he’s willing to share her with Caleb, but the unseen parallel story is a rat in a maze that can never escape captivity, as neither Ava nor Kyoko have ever been outside or allowed to leave their perpetual confinement of living behind glass walls.  Caleb naturally begins to feel empathy for their plight, believing they’re being mistreated, as underneath their robotic perfection, doing and saying all the things they have been programmed to do, they are deathly afraid of Nathan.  During another blackout that she has actually learned to create, Ava reveals her underlying fears of what might happen to her if she fails to pass the test, as she might be switched off for an upgrade.  Caleb begins questioning his own existence, wondering if he’s being programmed by Nathan as well, where Isaac and Vikander are both truly remarkable in the scope of their performances, conveying secret worlds of untapped motives and possibilities that remain hidden beneath the surface, challenging the audience to identify with a computer-programmed robot.  Who’s to say one is better than or inferior from another?  They are simply placed in different circumstances, where the story revolves around the lives of the three main characters, and to a smaller degree the fourth, where the brilliance of the film is that it reveals the Turing test for what it is, a test of the humans and not the machine.  Even Nathan envisions a future where the humans will be at the mercy of the machines, who will be so much faster and smarter, able to self-repair and live without sleep, illness, or aging, where they can literally live forever.  This understanding, however, leads to his security fears and overcontrolling nature, where he continues to tinker with what he’s created, where he feels introducing A.I. robots is an inevitable part of the human condition, that if he didn’t create them then someone else would.  It’s a fascinating balance of power between the main participants, constantly fluctuating in each scene, becoming a story of deceit, obsession, and manipulation, where the director himself never gives away his true intentions, which keeps the viewer off guard, where the less one knows, the better the experience.  The familiar aspect of these stories is attributing human traits to computers, where they are not simply content to serve humans any more than Scarlett Johansson is in Her, or your pet dog would be, as there’s simply more to a happy and fulfilling life.  Exploring human consciousness through a science fiction narrative has always held a certain mysterious intrigue both in literature and film, where Vikander’s beguiling beauty as Ava has an undeniable femme fatale appeal, complete with all the noirish trappings, where you might get sucked down the proverbial rabbit hole if you’re not careful.  The darkening mood throughout is unsettling and eventually disturbing, veering into horror territory, where the expanse of Nathan’s secret hideaway and the suffocating confinement within is an extension of his own flawed character, beautifully filmed by Rob Hardy, while the throbbing musical score by Ben Salisbury and Portishead’s Geoff Barrow underscores the enveloping claustrophobia, where the subject being explored is the mystery of the human condition, equally baffling whether seen through a computer or a human vantage point, where by the end they are seamlessly blended into one.     

To his credit, Garland enlisted Murray Shanahan (Home - Professor Murray Shanahan), Professor of Cognitive Robotics at Imperial College London, and writer and geneticist Adam Rutherford as science advisers.  Paul Smith interviews Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak from The Australian Financial Review Weekend, March 24, 2015, Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak on the Apple Watch ...:
  
“Computers are going to take over from humans, no question,” Mr Wozniak said.

He said he had long dismissed the ideas of writers like Raymond Kurzweil, who have warned that rapid increases in technology will mean machine intelligence will outstrip human understanding or capability within the next 30 years.  However Mr Wozniak said he had come to recognise that the predictions were coming true, and that computing that perfectly mimicked or attained human consciousness would become a dangerous reality.

“Like people including Stephen Hawking and Elon Musk have predicted, I agree that the future is scary and very bad for people.  If we build these devices to take care of everything for us, eventually they’ll think faster than us and they’ll get rid of the slow humans to run companies more efficiently,” Mr Wozniak said.

“Will we be the gods?  Will we be the family pets?  Or will we be ants that get stepped on?  I don’t know about that … But when I got that thinking in my head about if I’m going to be treated in the future as a pet to these smart machines … well I’m going to treat my own pet dog really nice.”

Monday, February 9, 2015

A Most Violent Year















A MOST VIOLENT YEAR       B+         
USA  (125 mi)  2014  ‘Scope  d:  J.C. Chandor 

There is always a path that is most right. 
—Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac)

A throwback to the 70’s, in particular the peculiarly darkened style of THE GODFATHER saga (1972 – 74), though the film takes place in New York City in 1981, a year the city reportedly saw one of the highest crime rates in its history, starring Oscar Isaac from Inside Llewyn Davis (2012) as Abel Morales, owner of a small city oil company.  What’s immediately apparent is the degree that Isaac channels Al Pacino’s performance of Michael Corleone from THE GODFATHER, where he continually tries to be that noble figure not only for his family, but his every move, even while being investigated and heavily scrutinized by the police, is made to garner “respect.”  While his business was inherited through marriage, where his beautiful wife Anna (Jessica Chastain) comes from mob money, Abel spends the entire movie trying to get out from under the shadow of her father’s criminal underworld reputation, trying to prove to anyone who will listen that he runs a legitimate business.  This becomes a running question throughout the film, as Chandor plays close to the vest when doling out plot information, keeping viewers on edge throughout even though it’s filmed in a mesmerizingly slow and hypnotic style.  Stylistically, this low-key film is in a world by itself where nothing else really compares, shot deliberately with a degree of unusually quiet elegance throughout by Selma (2014) cinematographer Bradford Young, making a bold directorial statement simply by charting new territory in a popular genre that has been explored to death.  Rather than accentuate the bloodshed, this film draws us into the strange and curious world of buying property and obtaining a loan, which is an art in itself when you’re trying to accumulate well over a million dollars, mostly from dirty guys that would just as soon rip your head off.  While Abel makes a down payment on a piece of land owned by Hassidic Jews overlooking the waterfront, he comes under intense pressure from all sides when it comes to making the final payment, as if he misses the deadline he could lose it all.  The threatening violence that pervades the mood throughout this film is also met with everyday, ordinary acts of theft, where Abel’s oil trucks are coming under attack, with his drivers are beat up at gunpoint and left on the street while their trucks are hijacked in order to steal every ounce of oil.  This is a dirty business reeking with a history of corruption, where his independent drivers may be challenging the solidarity of the Teamsters union, his competitors may be trying to muscle him out of the way, while Abel’s business practices are being thoroughly investigated by the District Attorney (David Oyelowo, also from Selma) who is bound and determined to uncover wrongdoing in an election year. 

Written by Chandor himself, the film is an existential nightmare where a well-intentioned individual is thwarted at every turn, bearing some similarities to the moral complexities of the Coen brothers’ A Serious Man (2009), where like the Old Testament character of Job, a man is challenged at every step of the way but still tries to find a meaningful significance to it all, to be a serious man, someone whose moral values remain intact and where God still has a place in his life.  While the religious context is nonexistent in this movie, replaced by a solidly entrenched, mob-driven capitalistic system that is ripe with corruption, Abel is extremely cognizant of his family’s stature in the New York community, where his every move is driven to elevate their place in society.  While his competitors are thugs that use mafia tactics, what’s intriguing about this story is that these are his friends and relatives, people that he socializes with and attends family gatherings, where cutthroat tactics is all they know.  While Abel tries not to take it personally, he’s not the one that is strong-armed at gunpoint and hauled out of their trucks like his drivers who have literally come under siege.  While common sense suggests they might arm themselves, this is not only illegal and could jeopardize the business, but it also leads to shootouts on public thoroughfares where innocent people are subject to being shot and killed.  Short of hiring armed guards, which the company cannot afford, it’s a tricky situation that plagues not only Abel but his drivers, especially Julian (Elyes Gabel), who very much like Abel is trying to build a life for himself, to make something out of nothing, both of them starting out as drivers, but Julian has the misfortune of being traumatized by the events, especially when he repeatedly gets targeted.  Ever since Steven Soderbergh’s underrated OUT OF SIGHT (1998), comedian Albert Brooks has made the remarkable transition to playing heavies, where he is brilliant underplaying the role of Andrew Walsh, a mafia lawyer, but he’s an essential component in any business transaction, as he’s the keeper of the flame, a company guy trusted by the underworld, the kind of person who has lived to see it all happen before his eyes, where nothing phases him any more, as he knows how things get done.  Andrew is genuinely sympathetic to Abel, as he’s a kid with good instincts, but he may be in over his head. 

Perhaps the real surprise in the film is the performance of Jessica Chastain as Anna, as no nonsense as any man, whose life behind the scenes is rarely even hinted at, but becomes more prominent as the film progresses, where Abel grows increasingly desperate, where his back is against it, yet his calibrated performance remains deliberate and measured throughout.  Anna is a whole other story, where the audience is fortunate to see Chastain in a more menacing role as a gangster’s moll, the femme fatale, a Lady Macbeth, a woman from the streets who knows her way around a crooked business even as her husband strives to be a decent man.  While she’s not easily intimidated, as evidenced by the way she mouths off to the District Attorney when they conduct a search of the home during her young child’s birthday party, seen passing out party favors to each kid at the door as they leave prematurely before reminding the counselor, “This was very disrespectful,” while flicking a cigarette in his face.  As the feds bring multiple indictments against him, Abel has all his money tied up in buying this invaluable piece of land, and when his legitimate lenders dry up, scared away by the feds, he has to make the rounds through the nefarious connections of his own family, hat in hand, asking for last minute loans.  Alessandro Nivola as Abel’s sinister rival Peter Forente is particularly creepy, a guy whose life is so defined by gangland murders that he basically has to spend his entire life behind a protected fortress.  Yet this is a guy he grew up with, who could easily be behind the hijackings, but Abel treats him as a serious man, where otherwise he’d be thrown out on his ear.   The crucial relationship between Chastain and Isaac is superbly developed, continually underplayed, with restrained fireworks and plenty of surprises in store, where this film continually takes unexpected turns in the road, yet never for a minute is anything less than compelling.  Chandor, the driving force behind Robert Redford’s wordless performance in All Is Lost (2013), continues to be a director of intrigue, refusing to follow anyone’s path but his own, growing up in New Jersey, a graduate of The College of Wooster, making starkly different kinds of films than any of his compatriots, nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay with his first feature MARGIN CALL (2011) following more than a dozen years of making commercials.  In this he resembles Swedish director Roy Andersson, who has directed over 400 commercials, but also Ridley and Tony Scott, Jonathan Glazer, Michel Gondry, Spike Jonze, not to mention David Fincher.  The music by Alex Ebert is especially effective at the end, America for Me - YouTube (4:08), a dramatic rendition sounding much like Nina Simone.  

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Inside Llewyn Davis

















INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS                 B      
USA  France  (105 mi)  2012  d:  Joel and Ethan Coen             Official site

An oddly melancholic film set in the early Greenwich Village folk music era of 1961, when musicians with guitars played at coffee shops and folk clubs, mostly singing traditional folk songs set to their own arrangements, where some are still overly clean cut, like holdovers from the 50’s, while others click with the audience, developing an instant rapport, while a few like Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) hold their audiences pretty much in contempt, thinking they know squat about music, as they listen to such crappy musical groups that are all copying the songs and style of more successful groups.  While Llewyn is able to give heartfelt performances, where there are many songs sprinkled throughout the film that reek of soulful authenticity, he doesn’t have the overriding trust in himself or the needed ambition to get him over the hump.  Described by Ethan Coen as “An odyssey where the main character doesn’t go anywhere,” Llewyn is constantly in motion, but it feels like he’s moving in circles where he remains stuck in a state of suspended animation, constantly trying to get into somebody’s door, where a recurring motif is looking for a sofa to sleep on for the night.  With no place to call home, he’s constantly lugging his guitar around with him on the subway, hoping to catch a lucky break somewhere.  When we meet his agent Mel (Jerry Grayson, in his last role before he died earlier this year), we know immediately that this guy isn’t getting him anywhere, yet he sticks with him, perhaps only because Mel is perceived to be somebody “in the business.”  Perhaps it’s no accident that the Coen brothers grew up outside Minneapolis, Minnesota, about three hours from Hibbing, Minnesota where a young Bob Dylan grew up as Robert Zimmerman.  Both moved to New York City to eventual fame and fortune, but this film imagines someone who wasn’t so fortunate.  The question the movie asks is if the 60’s era conservatism is all that interesting, as it’s been completely overshadowed by the late decade’s more violent Vietnam anti-war protest movements that ushered in a new focus on Civil Rights, Global Ecology, and the Women’s movements.  This film takes place before Roger Maris hit 61 home runs, during the idealism of a new era from newly elected President Kennedy, the first Catholic to win the White House, with a youthful vigor and fashionable wife that swept the nation, whose era of Camelot was considered a visionary time filled with a promise for the future. 

While this has a familiar ring with David Chase’s Not Fade Away (2012), teenage kids from Jersey forming a rock ‘n’ roll band in the late 60’s playing covers of songs admired by the Rolling Stones, where they were confident they would hit it big, but never did, much to their personal dismay.  Dylan describes the difference between rock ‘n’ roll and folk music in a Cameron Crowe interview contained in the liner notes to the 1985 multi-album Biograph:

The thing about rock ‘n’ roll is that for me anyway it wasn’t enough ... There were great catch-phrases and driving pulse rhythms ... but the songs weren’t serious or didn’t reflect life in a realistic way.  I knew that when I got into folk music, it was more of a serious type of thing.  The songs are filled with more despair, more sadness, more triumph, more faith in the supernatural, much deeper feelings.

There is no question that from the opening number in the Gaslight Café, “Hang Me, Oh Hang Me,” (Daniel Rossen version) Daniel Rossen - Hang Me, Oh Hang Me (Dave Van Ronk cover) YouTube (3:22), Llewyn is a very talented young man, more authentic and not so much a copycat as the other groups seen, but as we soon learn, he has major character flaws that alienate him from just about everybody.  Opening and closing at the same point, the film is a brief flashback in time representing the travails of a few harrowing days in the life of folksinger Llewyn Davis.  While the film is a time capsule of the era, where the Coens love to make authentic period pieces, what’s missing performance-wise are the Beat poets that often introduce the music in the early 60’s, and the beginnings of free form jazz from musicians like Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane and Eric Dolphy, often playing in the nearby Village Vanguard.  But it is Dave Van Ronk's 2005 memoir Mayor of MacDougal Street that inspired the Coen Brothers' latest film, as he performed in GreenwichVillage for five decades beginning in the 50’s, where three of his songs are heard, and the title comes from Van Ronk’s 1963 album Inside Dave Van Ronk.  Other autobiographical Van Ronk tidbits making their way into the film are spending time in the Merchant Marines (as did Jack Kerouac), taking a trip to Chicago to unsuccessfully audition for owner/manager Albert Grossman at the Gate of Horn, refusing to join a Peter, Paul, and Mary-style folk trio, and complaining to his record company that he was so broke he couldn’t afford a winter coat.  But Van Ronk was more of an established musician, where according to Elijah Wald, who co-wrote the memoirs, “People slept on his couch — he didn't sleep on theirs. And the reason Dave became who he was in the Village was the way he welcomed anyone who cared about the music.  Llewyn is clearly not that guy.”

While authenticity is paramount, the Coens love to get the details right, including the placement of Van Ronk’s collection of primitive art from New Guinea and the Pacific Northwest into the homes of some of Llewyn’s wealthier academic friends.  Especially significant is the film’s setting in the dead of winter, somewhat reminiscent of the 1963 cover of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, where Dylan’s presence lurks in the shadows, as he transformed the folk scene’s focus from traditional songs to original compositions, leaving performers like Llewyn out in the cold.  What was more interesting to the Coens was the period that came just before this happened, where there were so many more that *didn’t* make it in the music business.  The film is an unsparing look at one such performer who, unlike many of his contemporaries, can’t overcome his character flaws and remake himself in the image of someone else.  Instead he’s stuck with who he is, a somewhat gloomy guy with a flair for bad taste that eventually ticks off everyone he meets.  Often beleaguered at his status at the bottom of the food chain, where despite his talent, he has nothing to show for it, where he’s forced to live a hand-to-mouth existence, yet he feels he deserves better.  To his credit, his sincerity is something he wears proudly on his lapel, but he chooses to lead a miserable life, continually forcing others to contend with his misfortune.  The problem with the film is Llewyn is a particularly loathsome character, where there’s little emotional connection to what happens to him.  He fails to establish even basic level relationships with friends and family, leaving him a loner, unable to pull himself out of his predicament.  Onscreen throughout the entire picture, it’s one of the more extensive character developments in any recent Coen brothers movie.  It’s only when he takes a road trip to Chicago that we learn a portion of his past that continues to haunt him, that leaves him feeling like damaged goods, where he can’t help but repeat the same mistakes from the past, which only further isolates him.    

That surreal road trip, something of a hilarious satire of Kerouac’s On the Road, where Chicago has never been used to gloomier effect, includes two of the best secondary characters in the film, John Goodman, terrific as always, playing a highbrow jazz aficionado who sarcastically thinks of folk musicians as social misfits that can’t do anything else, while his driver is Garrett Hedlund as Johnny Five, completely silent for the first 800 miles or so until he launches into free form Beat poetry in the middle of the night from behind the wheel.  These two guys add edge, completely lost in their own self-contained worlds, where Llewyn is a nobody in their eyes.  It’s the perfect lead-in for his existential journey to nowhere, having burned all his bridges and alienated everyone around him.  Only familiar with the old songs, where the appeal is drying up even for Llewyn, he’s starting to hate folk music and everything it represents, “If it’s never been new and it never gets old, it’s a folk song,” where he can be heard screaming at one point “I hate fuckin’ folk music!”  When his sister Joy (Jeanine Serralles) asks if he might consider a life outside of folk singing, Llewyn replies, “What, quit?  Just exist?” to which she responds, “Exist?  Is that what we do outside of show business?”  Spending a good portion of the film carrying and/or chasing after a cat named Ulysses, even on the subway, a journey unto itself, expressed in a long and beautiful ride through the heart of New York showing Llewyn lost in thought while the camera captures a reflection of the cat’s ponderous stare in the window, the film has no structured narrative, but simply provides an impressionistic mosaic of all the things Llewyn does wrong, how he blows every opportunity, blaming everyone but himself, alienating all his friends with his abrasive personality, never able to successfully channel his mania for music, where he seems doomed to wander like a Sisyphus character, waiting for a future that never arrives, becoming another one of the classic anti-heroes in the Coen mythology, where over the end credits an uncredited Dave Van Ronk can be heard singing The Late, Great Dave Van Ronk: "Green Green Rocky Road" YouTube (5:54).  Somehow, the film took the second prize with the Grand Prix Award at Cannes.  Unlike O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000), which featured a musical soundtrack that lead to a revival of bluegrass country music, folk music is slower and more seriously downbeat, much of it a reflection of the hard years of the Great Depression, where its era 50 years ago *before* the violent student demonstrations of the late 60’s and before the influence of urban hip hop rhythms is not likely to experience a similar rebirth, where the Coen’s parody of the boring verse repetition in “500 Miles” Peter Paul and Mary, 500 Miles YouTube (2:53) with a hootenanny audience obediently singing along suggests it would simply not be tolerated by today’s more restlessly uptempo youth.