A Complete Unknown

 A Complete Unknown

Artist: Timothée Chalamet

Release Date: January 16th, 2025

Genre: Rock

Rating: 6.9

Opening Statement:

If Timothée's is the covering actor, then Bob Dylan is the acting musician. 

First and foremost, my biggest expectation for this film is to avoid falling into the same trap as "Elvis." After hearing Chalamet's cover performance on SNL, I have to say, I didn’t see the necessity for it. One's professional ethics? Guaranteed. But we are talking about an original soundtrack by Bob Dylan; it's already half-baked when it’s adequate.

Timothée Chalamet’s A Complete Unknown isn’t here to rewrite Bob Dylan’s myth—it’s here to blast it through a lo-fi garage amp. The film barrels through Dylan’s electric revolution, cramming Newport Folk Festival meltdowns, Greenwich Village hustles, and enough harmonica solos to make your ears buzz. The gimmick? Chalamet performs every song live, strumming and drawling like a guy who just discovered Highway 61 Revisited in his dad’s vinyl collection. Surprisingly, it works.  

The opener, “Song to Woody,” sets the tone: Chalamet, clad in hobo-chic, croons Dylan’s ode to Woody Guthrie at his hero’s bedside. It’s earnest, if a little stiff—like watching your theater kid friend nail the vibe of a ’60s troubadour. But when he drawls, “Here’s to the hearts and the hands of the men… gone with the wind,” you buy it. The track’s raw simplicity (acoustic guitar, no frills) mirrors Dylan’s early idol worship, even if Chalamet’s voice leans more Dune prophet than Minnesota poet.  

The soundtrack cherry-picks Dylan’s catalog with mixed results. “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are a-Changin’” get the crowd-pleasing treatment, complete with folksy righteousness. But the film’s rushed politics show: “Masters of War” is hacked to two minutes, axing its most biting lines (“Jesus would never forgive what you do”). Meanwhile, Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro) steals scenes with a chilling a cappella “House of the Rising Sun,” though her duet with Chalamet on “Girl From the North Country” feels more fanfic than history—Dylan and Baez never actually sang it together.  Chalamet shines when embracing Dylan’s electric chaos. “Highway 61 Revisited” is a sneering romp, and “Like a Rolling Stone” channels the sneer of a guy who’s pissed he’s famous. The film’s best trick? Letting Chalamet’s live vocals crack under pressure—no AutoTune, just the thrill of a rookie faking it till he makes it.  

But let’s be real: This isn’t replacing Nina Simone’s “Times” or Patti Smith’s “Masters of War.” Chalamet’s covers are karaoke with a budget, saved by their earnest energy. Yet that’s the point. A Complete Unknown isn’t for Dylan purists—it’s for Gen Z kids who’ll Shazam “Mr. Tambourine Man” after hearing it in a TikTok edit. The soundtrack’s clunky edits and Hollywood gloss might irk scholars, but as a gateway drug to Dylan’s genius? Mission accomplished.  

Final take: Chalamet’s Dylan is a messy, magnetic cosplay. The movie plays fast and loose with facts (Suze Rotolo’s impact? Glossed. The real “Judas!” moment? Misplaced). But when the soundtrack leans into the chaos—Chalamet grinning through “Don’t Think Twice,” or howling “How does it feeeeel?”—it captures the anarchic joy of Dylan’s early years. Cue the eye-rolls from boomers, but this soundtrack might just make a few kids trade their AirPods for harmonicas. "B–"