A Complete Unknown: Art and Activism in Uncertain Times

By Rob Eschmann

A Complete Unknown, a 2024 film nominated for 8 Oscars, explores the life and music of Bob Dylan (played by Timotheé Chalamet), as he makes the personal and professional choices that would go on to define him. With a star-studded cast, stories of Chalamet learning to play the guitar and sing for five years in preparation for his role, and a marketing plan that made even this hip hop head/purist start streaming Bob Dylan songs, the expectations for this film couldn’t have been higher. And it delivered, as expected.

What I did not expect, was this film, set in the early 1960s, to speak so poignantly to the issues facing the United States in 2025, as we confront what can feel like an unprecedented attack on democracy and American freedoms.

The film opens with acclaimed actor Ed Norton’s character, folk musician Pete Seeger, defending himself against charges that his music is anti-American. To prove his innocence, Seeger offers to sing a song for the judge, whose red-faced fury stands in contrast with Seeger’s calm, confident charm. The judge declines, and Seeger is found guilty of sedition.

As Seeger leaves the courtroom to speak with a group of reporters, he pulls out his banjo and sings the “seditious” song for them to review. The lyrics are familiar (although these lyrics are actually from a song by William Guthrie, one of Seeger’s contemporaries and friends):

This land is your land, and this land is my land
From California to the New York island
From the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me

How could this song, which today is sung by elementary school students around the country, and is seen as being patriotic, be seditious?

The scene hit me like a brick. I was watching the film a few days after the first set of 2025 executive orders terminated programs that combat discrimination based on race, gender, or ability, while claiming (without evidence) that these programs are discriminatory. I knew these orders were just the beginning of a bigger plan to combat antiracist, feminist, or “woke” justice efforts, and was feeling overwhelmed and discouraged at the initial institutional responses to these orders that seemed to legitimate their language and the illogics of “reverse racism.”

As Pete Seeger sang this harmless song, I was reminded that this is not the first time in American history that innocuous words have been deemed un-American. Artists, researchers, activists, and educators struggled against false accusations of sedition for standing up for justice, long before these latest executive orders.

Knowing that we’ve been here before isn’t an excuse for inaction. On the contrary, revisiting the past should be empowering, as we learn from and are inspired by the ancestors who also fought against seemingly insurmountable odds.

Later in the film, as Dylan plays his guitar in his apartment, we see President John F. Kennedy discuss on TV the arms race with Russia, and news reporters seem to suggest that a nuclear attack could be imminent. Outside Dylan’s window, people on the streets of New York City run wild, apparently afraid the world is going to end.  

Amid this chaos, Dylan leaves his apartment, walking calmly among people rushing, bags packed, to get out of the city. He finds his way to a basement-level bar, where he takes the stage, his music a balm for the anxious and uncertain.

Again, this element of the plot speaks to the current moment. Those New Yorkers believed they would not wake up in the morning, because the threat of nuclear with Russia was so real. But they made love, they made peace, and they found strength in community.

Today, there are many threats that can leave us feeling like we’re living under imminent threat, or a heavy fog. Will academia survive overt attacks on research funding and the freedom of inquiry? Will America have a President or a King? How many jobs will be replaced by AI agents? How soon before we feel the effects of reversals of climate protections? What lines on maps across the world are about to change? Who will be the next “seditious” group to be whisked away?

 

Before watching A Complete Unknown, I was unfamiliar with the role folk musicians played in anti-war, workers’ rights, environmental protection, and Civil Rights protests and movements. Storytelling can remind us that the resistance can be eclectic and beautiful. That the dangers we face are not as unprecedented as they may seem. And most importantly, that history is written when normal people organize, collectively stand up for what is right, and persevere.

Comments

[hill climb racing]

Hey, I totally get where you’re coming from! I watched *A Complete Unknown* last weekend, and it blew my mind too—had no clue how deep folk musicians went with all those movements. It’s wild how the film uses storytelling to show that resistance isn’t just one flavor; it’s this messy, gorgeous mix of voices. That bit about the dangers not being so new really hit me—kinda comforting, in a way, like we’ve been here before and figured it out. And yeah, the idea that history comes from regular folks banding together and pushing forward? Super inspiring. Did any particular scene stick with you? For me, it was that quiet moment where the music just carried the weight of everything.