Here are some thoughts I had during INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS:
- Llewyn Davis is my favorite kind of shaggy-dog anti-hero. The kind after whom I’d model my facial scruff if only I were younger and knew my way around a beard trimmer.
- I haven’t felt that way since I wanted to shave my head and dye it orange like Ewan McGregor in TRAINSPOTTING but didn’t, instead just settling for rubbing my eyes every day before school until they were heroin-addict red.
- When is Carey Mulligan going to be famous enough to speak in her regular accent no matter where her character is supposed to be from like Anthony Hopkins or Ben Kingsley or Liam Neeson do? Because her American accent warbles her line readings and strains believability.
- Good bangs, though.
- One time my dad was at a party with F. Murray Abraham who was so sloshed that he went around introducing himself to people as “Fmurray.”
- This music is so good, I wish it were real.
- With BLUE JASMINE and INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS, I hereby declare 2013 The Year of Max Casella.