A Complete Unknown

 A Complete Unknown  doesn’t do much to set itself apart from the crowded field of music biopics. It’s well-acted, competently made, but ultimately so safe that it slips into the realm of forgettable. What gives the film a slight edge is how you could view it not as a traditional biopic, but more as a retelling of Bob Dylan’s transition to electric music. The film is essentially split into two parts: the first covering Dylan’s rise in the folk scene from 1961 to 1964, followed by a time jump to 1965, where the second half focuses on his move toward electric sound. This structure works well, offering a clear narrative arc rather than cramming his entire, sprawling career into a shallow, dramatized Wikipedia page.   It simply falls flat on execution. The script feels clichéd, and the moments that should pop with cinematic energy often come across as flat. The film is serviceable as far as generic music biopics go, but it fails to offer anything truly remarkable or memorable.  It’s costumes without character. It spells out who these people are—hell, it even does a good job of making it all look sexy—but it doesn’t do the hard work of saying anything meaningful about them.