Getting to Know ‘A Complete Unknown’ Through the Eyes of Former Bob Dylan Band Members Billy Cross & Jo Ann Harris

Director James Mangold’s eight-time Oscar-nominated A Complete Unknown announces its challenge in its title. Taken from a verse in Dylan’s classic breakthrough hit “Like A Rolling Stone,” the film attempts to grasp an artist whose nature and reputation have made him one of popular music’s most enigmatic figures. Considering the depth and breadth of Dylan’s work, focusing on the short, transformative years of 1961 to 1965 was wise. Covering any decade of Dylan’s life would have been difficult even with a three-hour run time. A Complete Unknown clocks in at two hours and twenty-one minutes, dealing with a half-decade. On some level, the film is an origin story of an artist, but not a person. That’s not to say that Dylan isn’t a person, but as a man who changed his last name, never talks about his past, (which his girlfriend Sylvie–played by Elle Fanning–laments in the movie), and has no desire to explain himself to anyone, makes him a perplexing character to capture on film. A Complete Unknown is more effective in constructing the artist’s evolution from arriving in New York City as a folk singer with original songs (most folk records were made up of standards at the time) to his controversial full band reveal at the traditionally-minded Newport Folk Festival.

Timothee Chalamet deserves significant credit for his work as Dylan in the film. It would have been easy to fall into the trap of impersonating such a famous person, especially since he sings and plays the songs himself, getting Dylan’s distinctive singing (and speaking) voice correct. Chalamet (a favorite to win Best Actor at this year’s Oscars) goes beyond the technical by embracing the enigma, never giving the audience complete insight into what made Dylan tick. It’s a bold and necessary choice, as few people over Dylan’s long life (he’s still performing today at 83) have claimed access to whatever is behind the artist’s veil. 

I know two musicians who worked with Bob Dylan from 1977-1979: lead guitarist Billy Cross (my father-in-law’s best friend) and backup singer Jo Ann Harris (my mother-in-law). Both recorded the “Street Legal” album and toured the world with Dylan (resulting in the “Live at Budokan” album) before he turned to gospel music for two years with the albums “Slow Train Coming” and “Saved.” Cross, a musical lifer, became a successful artist and producer in Europe (he resides in Denmark). After leaving Dylan’s group, Harris went on to record and tour with numerous name artists like George Benson and Bette Midler (she earned a platinum album for her work on Midler’s “Some People’s Lives” album). 

While both were twelve years removed from the events depicted in the film, their remembrances of Dylan are still valuable in assessing if A Complete Unknown captures the artist’s essence. Cross found Dylan to be “very warm and kind”–even going so far as to make certain Cross’s wife Lise would be allowed to accompany her husband on tour, a request management was initially unwilling to support. When I asked Cross to define his relationship with Dylan as “friend, colleague, or band member,” he was reluctant to put a name on it. As Cross put it, “He was damn nice to me.” As the primary backup singer, Harris kept the trio of backing vocalists tight and on track. Her relationship with Dylan was also friendly but somewhat distanced. Harris found Dylan to be mercurial, describing him as “restless.” She pointed out a pattern of Dylan never getting too set with a backing band. Once the band peaked from a performance perspective, he would want to switch things up. Historically, that opinion tracks as Dylan has worked with numerous gifted bands, from the most well-known such as The Band, The Grateful Dead, and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, to less famous but remarkably talented musicians. 

Tom Petty once told an amusing story about touring with Dylan (who was not a fan of a consistent set list), and while on stage, Dylan turned to Petty and told him to play “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues,” which led Petty to turn his head to lead guitarist Mike Campbell quizzically, as they had never rehearsed the song once. Cross and Harris confirmed that when touring with Dylan, you had to be ready for anything on any given night.

Cross’s perspective on the film was that Chalamet was terrific (Cross met Dylan briefly a couple of times in the ’60s), even if the film lacked a strong storyline. His point of view made sense to me: How do you tell the story of a person who is an “unknown,” so what Mangold and crew did was fill the movie with nearly wall-to-wall music. As Cross pointed out, this was not a bad choice, as Dylan’s work over those five years is some of the greatest music ever recorded. Cross compared Dylan to Shakespeare in terms of his writing and storytelling talent (it’s worth noting that Dylan is the only songwriter who has been awarded a Pulitzer Prize,  and later the Nobel Prize), and in terms of the film’s showcasing of Dylan’s gifts, Cross found the movie effective. 

Learning about Dylan through Cross and Harris was, in many ways, more fascinating than the film itself. They might not have been there from 1961-65, but their sense of Dylan from the time they spent with him confirmed the strengths and weaknesses of the film. The music is terrific, and the acting is outstanding (Cross strongly praised Edward Norton as Pete Seeger and Monica Barbaro as Joan Baez). The apex of the film–Dylan going electric at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival–facing down screams of “Judas” and having objects thrown at him and his band members is thrilling, especially when Chalamet turns to his band after two songs of rabid audience abuse, and says, “Play it loud.” The artistic defiance, the unwillingness to give the masses what they wanted or were expecting, are hallmarks of Dylan’s career. 

Yet still, when we see Dylan ride off on his motorcycle at the end of the film, it’s hard to say we know him better than we did when the film began. We may know more about the events of his life, but not much more about this elusive person routinely thought of as the greatest songwriter of the modern era. His loyalty to Seeger, a strong early supporter, ended at the water’s edge between traditional folk music and where Dylan wanted to go with his songs: electric, full-band recordings and performances. He has three lovers depicted in the film (primarily Sylvie and Baez), but a full commitment to any of them was also beyond his reach.

Mangold gets a lot right in the film: the look of the times, the recreation of events, all the way down to Dylan’s dirty fingernails (an attribute Harris confirmed from her time with him), but I don’t believe he reveals much about the man despite the film’s professionalism and Chalamet’s vivid performance. As the film closes, the complete unknown remains very much unknown. It’s entirely possible that was the point, however frustrating that may be to the viewer. Then again, maybe that’s the most honest take. After all, does anyone really know anyone anyway?