Inside Llewyn Davis (film)

Inside Llewyn Davis
Written and directed by Joel & Ethan Coen 
insidellewyndavis.com

As I noted in my review of the film’s soundtrack last month, “I’ve been looking forward to Inside Llewyn Davis, the new Coen Brothers film ever since I heard the rumor that it would be based on The Mayor of MacDougal Street, the posthumous memoir of my late friend Dave Van Ronk that was completed by Elijah Wald.”

The film covers a week or so in the life of Greenwich Village folksinger Llewyn Davis in early-1961.

Now, having seen the film, I can report mixed feelings. Although I was a decade or so too young to have experienced that scene at that time (I got to the folk scene in Montreal as a teenager in the late-1960s and first visited Greenwich Village folk clubs in 1974 when I would have been about the same age Bob Dylan was when he arrived in ‘61), I’ve known a lot of the musicians who were there at the time and many of them are friends I’ve had extensive conversations about that time with.

So, if I detach myself from what I know of that scene and of the people who were there, I can say that I enjoyed the movie as a dark exploration of a frustrated, self-centered folksinger suffering an existential crisis. God knows I’ve seen any number of musicians and non-musicians go through such crises over the past 40 years or so. That depiction, acted so well by Oscar Isaac as Llewyn Davis, was compelling to watch.

I also enjoyed the depictions of Folkways Records (Legacy Records in the movie) and its legendary founder Moe Asch (Mel Novikoff in the movie) and of Albert Grossman (Bud Grossman in the movie) who really did run a folk club called the Gate of Horn in Chicago before coming to New York. I also quite liked the scene where Llewyn shows up at the seamen’s union trying to ship out again with the Merchant Marine. I’ve heard stories directly from Dave Van Ronk that make those scenes seem very authentic.

But, early on, it becomes obvious that Llewyn Davis is not Dave Van Ronk and is no Dave Van Ronk. By 1961, Dave was already established on the Village folk scene as a central and influential artist. He did not bounce from couch to couch like Llewyn; rather he and his first wife Terri Thal provided indigent folksingers – like the young Bob Dylan – with a couch to sleep on. Dave also did not drive – which Llewyn does – and I can’t imagine him exploding at benefactors or at a fellow performer the way Llewyn does. Throughout the film, Llewyn has a chip on his shoulder that’s bigger than himself and that too wasn’t Dave.

Llewyn Davis explodes at a request to play a song in a social setting declaring he’s a professional; that he should only sing for payment. Most folksingers I’ve known have been people who are driven to sing and play music. It’s not just what they do or did on stage, it’s a way of life. They derive joy in playing music for the sake of playing music. Some of the best music I’ve ever heard has been off stage, late at night – including some of the best music I’ve ever heard Dave Van Ronk play.

This did not seem to be a folk scene that included the Sunday afternoon gatherings in Washington Square Park or at Izzy Young’s Folklore Center. Llewyn and the other musicians did not seem obsessed with the history of music and the musicians that came before them. Dave Van Ronk, Bob Dylan and so many others on that scene were intent on soaking those things up.

The character Troy Nelson – a soldier stationed at Fort Dix who came to the Village to play music when he could – was obviously inspired by the young Tom Paxton. Troy even sings “The Last Thing On My Mind,” Tom’s best-known song, as his own. But, just as Llewyn Davis is decidedly not my friend Dave Van Ronk, Troy Nelson bears little resemblance to my friend Tom Paxton. Tom is smart, witty, funny and generous. I just can’t imagine him as the dumb country bumpkin that the character Troy is.

I do think it is a good movie. I’m a fan of the Coen Brothers and really like what they do on film. However, as a portrayal of a scene and of people I know personally, too much of it doesn’t ring true for me. For more about that from someone who was there have a look at the article Terri Thal wrote for the Village Voice.

And for a really good description of the film’s time and place, read Dave’s memoir, The Mayor of MacDougal Street.

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--Mike Regenstreif

Woody Guthrie -- My Dusty Road

WOODY GUTHRIE
My Dusty Road
Rounder
woodyguthrie.org

In 1944, in a six-day recording marathon while home from the merchant marine, Woody Guthrie recorded about 250 songs, some solo and lots with backup from fellow folksinger and merchant marine buddy Cisco Houston and Sonny Terry, the great blues harmonica player. They recorded Woody’s songs as well as traditional folksongs in his repertoire and songs he picked up from various sources like the Carter Family or the Delmore Brothers.

Because of a contract dispute between Moe Asch and a business partner named Bob Harris, many of the recordings have been issued and reissued many times on Asch’s Folkways Records and later on Smithsonian Folkways, as well as Harris’ Stinson label and a multitude of other labels over the years who have licensed the Stinson recordings. Back in the early years of CD reissues, I reviewed a bunch of Stinson albums, including ones with a lot of Guthrie material, in Sing Out! Magazine.

Several years ago, some pristine Stinson masters from those sessions were discovered and they allow us to hear Woody with an unprecedented sound quality. This 4-CD set presents 54 songs from those sessions, including six tracks that have never been released before. Although I’ve been listening to previous releases of most of this material for most of my life, listening to this set is almost like hearing Woody and these songs for the first time.

The four CDs are programmed thematically.

The first disc, Woody’s “Greatest” Hits, includes many of Woody’s best known classics including such essential songs as “This Land is Your Land,” “Pretty Boy Floyd,” “The Sinking of the Reuben James,” “Jesus Christ” and “Hard Travelin’.” There is also a previously unreleased original called “Bad Repetation.”

The second disc, Woody’s Roots, is filled with traditional folksongs like “Stackolee” and “John Henry”; Carter Family songs like “Worried Man Blues” and “Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone”; and cowboy songs like “Chisholm Trail” and Woody’s definitive version of “Buffalo Skinners.”

The third disc, Woody the Agitator, includes many of Woody’s union songs like “Gonna Roll the Union On” and “Union Burying Ground”; anti-discrimination songs like “Hangknot, Slipknot” and “Harriet Tubman’s Ballad,” a tribute to the great conductor of the Underground Railroad; and Second World War rallying songs like “Tear the Fascists Down” and “When the Yanks Go Marching In.” The set includes the previously-unreleased “You Can Hear My Whistle Blow,” inspired by Woody and Cisco’s wartime service in the merchant marine.

The final disc, Woody, Cisco and Sonny, features the three combining on a set of traditional songs, country instrumentals and hoedown tunes. There are three previously unreleased tracks in this set including, “Guitar Rag,” the infectious instrumental usually known as “Steel Guitar Rag,” but here featuring Woody and Cisco banging their guitars and Sonny blowing hard on his harp,” “Brown’s Ferry Blues,” a great old Delmore Brothers song from the 1930s, and “Sonn’s Flight,” a harmonica tune with Sonny front and centre.

My Dusty Road is a vitally important Woody Guthrie collection.

A personal note: The centrality of Sonny Terry to these recordings reminds me that Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee were the first people I ever got to know who also knew Woody. I had become fascinated with Woody and when I was 15 or 16, in 1969 or ’70, they were playing a four- or five-night gig at the Back Door in Montreal. On the first or second night I told them I was interested in hearing about Woody and they sat with me several times that week talking about Woody and themselves in the 1940s. Unfortunately, when I produced some concerts for them in 1977, they would no longer sit in the same room together, except on stage.

--Mike Regenstreif