Dreaming in Brighton

Inside Llewyn Davis

Constant discussion about housing over the past couple of weeks has left me feeling like a bit of a stray cat. I suppose it was then a given that I was going to feel at home watching Inside Llewyn Davis. From early on we find the protagonist, a struggling folk singer named Llewyn, in the company of a cat that he keeps reminding us is not his own. The clear bond that forms between the unlikely pair and the obvious care that Llewyn feels for the cat means that we start to see the resemblance between the two. A sense of loss and helplessness resonates and it is one that certainly sat comfortably with me. Llewyn's feline friend becomes a pivotal part of the film, managing to be one of the main sources of humour and a character that I certainly became quickly attached to.

In fact, the beginning of the film actually ended up being one of my favourite parts. There is a feeling that you have been transported into each scene, as if you are sitting in on someone else's private life. Immediately I was absorbed. We then witness a series of everyday struggles and a depiction of one of those days where everything seems to go wrong, stretching out into much of the film. Yet this monotony is wonderfully broken up by the music - those moments when Llewyn plays are when you really feel everything else fade into the background. It is for this that the film manages to acknowledge the power that music can really have through its ability to make the mundane not only bearable but entirely magnificent.

The film succeeds in being very aware of itself. It manages to poke light fun, creating a string of moments that are ridiculously comical. Justin Timberlake, Adam Driver and leading man Oscar Isaac singing a gimmick song is a particular highlight. It knows when to take itself seriously while simultaneously managing to leave the audience sniggering throughout.

This is definitely one that people who are eager to see everything concluded will hate but that's exactly what I like about the film, it doesn't try to be anything other than itself. It doesn't try to wrap things up in a little bow or fix everything, it just is. It reveals all those pains and frustrations of life and simultaneously those moments of relief that sit complete within themselves - for that, it works perfectly. Finally there is a recognition of the beauty of the world in all its flaws and faults with a series of events that in themselves are in no way extraordinary but which come together to tell a story that really is.