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Rating: Q=7, P=7 / Obsession
Scale 1=4, Scale 2=3, Scale 3=4, Scale 4=3
Music, 1960s, Bleak, Philosophical, Folktale
My soul crumbled a little after watching the latest Coen Brothers film. Inside Llewyn Davis made me painfully aware of how undervalued the arts (and artists) are in our society--it is an age old story. Llewyn is a true artist--his heart full of passion and love for the music he plays. But he gets no money from his recordings or gigs. He has no bed to rest in, only other people's couches or floors. He doesn't even have a coat or boots to keep him warm in the bitter New York winter. Even when he journeys hundreds of miles and sings from the very depths of his soul, he is denied. Because, he is told...there isn't any money in his art. And he sees the acts, hears the silly songs, and learns about the deeds that do bring comfort and cash and it disgusts him. This is 1961. Sadly, little has changed.
Oscar Isaac amazed me (why have I never heard this guy until now?) in being the character I know so well. I think all true artists have a little bit of Llewyn inside, trying desperately to find a place that is not hostile or false feeling. And company that appreciates real talent...like I said, my soul crumbled a little.
Oscar Isaac amazed me (why have I never heard this guy until now?) in being the character I know so well. I think all true artists have a little bit of Llewyn inside, trying desperately to find a place that is not hostile or false feeling. And company that appreciates real talent...like I said, my soul crumbled a little.
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