Can We Have More Female Musician Biopics, Please?
To worship Joan Baez is to be skeptical of any Hollywood depiction of Bob Dylan's life and legacy—specifically, the pivotal role she continues to play in it. So, when it was announced that James Mangold was making A Complete Unknown, a film charting the start of Dylan's rise to fame and his departure from folk music, I wasn't planning on seeing it. This particular snapshot would obviously include Baez—whether it would also include the innumerable ways she informed Dylan as an artist, activist, and an individual in that time was, well, a complete unknown. As we've so often witnessed, Hollywood's male storytellers tend to keep all of the women behind every "great man" right there in their shadow. Why would Mangold's portrait of one of America's most beloved misogynist lyricists and poets be any different?
After being forced to the theater last week, I'm afraid I was wrong. Kind of. Baez, I was pleased to learn, wasn't quite manic pixie dreamgirled in the way I dreaded. That's not to say I was in any way satisfied, though. After Oppenheimer, I wondered if there'd ever be a day in which Jean Tatlock, a worthy subject in her own right, would get a feature film of her own. Now that I've seen A Complete Unknown, I can't help but think the same of Baez.
From the second Baez, portrayed by the complete revelation that is Monica Barbaro, bursts onto the screen, the audience is instantly aware of her fame that far preceded Dylan's—from lines of admirers outside venues to a rave from the New York Times to, later, her Time Magazine cover. Despite Dylan's cutting comments (her songs, he says, are like an oil painting at the dentist) her style, talent as a singer-songwriter, and characteristic steeliness all get their due. "Did you just come over here so I could watch you write?" she asks Dylan when he comes knocking late at night. Baez, as it's been well-documented, didn't take Dylan's shit as his star continued to rise.
Their relationship was a complex, decade-spanning back-and-forth that simply couldn't be committed to a film that captures just a few years. That Dylan's misogyny played a role in its demise was only hinted at in the film, but at least it's there. Throughout, he repeatedly disrespects and belittles Baez, cheats and lies to his partner, Sylvie (Elle Fanning), and largely treats women as if they're there to be had and little else. Still, in the end, his shortcomings don't matter much. As the logline reads, it's he who breaks new ground sonically (and socially) that "reverberates worldwide." This is Dylan's story meaning liberties were taken, crucial details were left out, and Baez—regardless of the gusto Barbaro wields in breathing life into the person on the page—becomes a peripheral character.
A Complete Unknown could land among certain audiences (any woman who has ever dated a musician) like a cautionary tale against unkempt, spindly artists who communicate only in song. To others, it might be a celebration of all the people—women and men—who lent Dylan their hands, hearts, and homes so he could become the legend he is today. This includes Pete Seeger, Johnny Cash, and the number of women who—for their own reasons—loved him. But to me, I only walked away wondering when Hollywood would finally find the funding for biopics that chart the myriad ways women in music have broken new ground.
Hell, let's start with Baez. Here's what didn't make A Complete Unknown: From the start of her career, Baez demonstrated a lifelong commitment to anti-war activism and social equity. In the sixties, she refused to play at any colleges that were segregated, and not only performed at the March on Washington in 1963 but walked with Martin Luther King Jr. in support of integration. She's often traveled to shed light on the American war machine and still performs at protests like Standing Rock. She remains a prolific writer and poet and has released well over 30 records, and one poetry book, When You See My Mother, Ask Her to Dance. In a 2023 documentary of her life, I Am A Noise, Baez revealed she's a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. And, as every legend is, she's also bisexual. Surely, there's more than enough material for a two-hour film here. If you're not convinced, let's briefly visit a passage about Dylan's first marriage from Another Side of Bob Dylan: A Personal History on the Road and Off the Tracks written by Dylan's tour manager and friend.
“Bob’s desire to get married to Sara surprised me. I asked him about it. ‘Why Sara?! Why not Joan Baez?’ He responded with, ‘Because Sara will be home when I want her to be home, she’ll be there when I want her to be there, she’ll do it when I want her to do it. Joan won’t be there when I want her. She won’t do it when I want to do it.'”
I liked A Complete Unknown just as I've always liked Dylan's discography. I'm just saying it's high time we get a Christmas blockbuster about a woman who refused to be available when a "great man" wanted her to be.