There's a real danger that in years to come that Inside Llewyn Davis will be remembered only as the film that kick-started Oscar Isaac's rise to stardom, a stepping stone on his journey to Star Wars and Apocalypse. That would be a real shame, because it'd totally discredit what might prove to be the Coen Brothers' best film (or at the very least their most accomplished since Fargo). When word first trickled out of Cannes that the Coen's Greenwich Village-set film about a folk singer was a genuine one to watch it was to a reaction of equal curiosity and surprise. The brothers are masters of turning wacko ideas into brilliance in their own distinct way, but could a film built around a now-niche music genre work for non-fans? Oh of course it could. With a Freewheelin' visual style and, yes, a great central performance from Isaac, the film's a fully committed realisation of the rut its titular character wills himself into. A Most Unprogressive Week, if you will. The fact that the film was all but ignored by the Academy Awards last year, pithily nominated for just Best Cinematography and Best Sound Mixing, may just be the biggest catastrophe in recent awards history. In a fair world it'd have had a shot at Picture, Director, Actor and Screenplay. In a just one it'd have nabbed all four.
