The Best Movies of 2013, #9: Inside Llewyn Davis
Not much happens in Inside Llewyn Davis, the sixteenth—and arguably most soulful—feature from the inimitable Joel and Ethan Coen. Its narrative is elliptical, to the point that it ends literally where it began. It chronicles a week in the life of a New York folk singer (Oscar Isaac, extraordinary) who shuffles from one indignity to the next; he crashes at various houses (“Got a couch?”), scrounges for any gig he can find, and huddles to keep warm, lacking a winter coat to protect him from the city’s bitter chill. It systematically deconstructs its title character, establishing his talent and promise before methodically breaking him down through a series of humbling, escalating defeats. Not much happens, and yet for Llewyn, so much does.
This may sound like a curious endorsement, especially if you insist on triumph and happy endings from your movies. Yet while Inside Llewyn Davis is piercingly sad, it is by no means miserable. For one, it’s funny. The Coens have always had a keen eye for offbeat humor (remember Nicolas Cage’s nightmarish vision of Tex Cobb in Raising Arizona?), and they regularly sprinkle Llewyn’s misadventures with bizarre, playful moments—an addled agent’s familiar patter with his longtime secretary, a cantankerous musician’s (John Goodman) incessant grumblings, a very persistent cat—that add minute, flavorful detail to his world. The movie is also a proud celebration of American music. Working again with T Bone Burnett, the legendary producer who turned the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack into a phenomenon, the Coens have assembled a diverse anthology of scraggly folk anthems, from the clipped, wistful “Shoals of Herring” to the gentle, elegiac “Fare Thee Well” (both performed by Isaac with aching tenderness). They’ve also created the boisterous original piece “Please Mr. Kennedy”, a toe-tapping jaunt in which Isaac, Justin Timberlake (pleasant), and Adam Driver (hysterical) collaborate to deliver two of the most jubilant minutes of cinematic music-making you’ll ever see. Read More
[Note: The Manifesto has reviewed 89 different 2013 releases up to this point. Some were 
There’s an episode of Louie in which Louis C.K. and Robin Williams find themselves as the only mourners at a man’s funeral. They spend the rest of the morning together, reminiscing about the departed and eventually confessing that he was something of a schmuck, which probably explains why his funeral was exclusively attended by two men who barely even knew him. After some bizarre plot developments typical of Louie‘s randomness—as it turns out, the deceased was beloved as a generous benefactor at a local strip club—C.K. and Williams amiably go their separate ways. Before they part, however, they promise each other that no matter what happens, whoever outlives the other will be sure to attend the dead man’s funeral.