hdwhaley’s review published on Letterboxd:
Stands alongside Crumb and Amadeus as one of the finest and most painful explorations of artistic self-flagellation. Is there anything more uncomfortably relatable than the toxic romanticization of misery? Choosing to suffer? Choosing to walk in the snow when there’s dry land to either side of you because you want to be cold, you want wet shoes? It’s all bullshit, but we do it anyway. I do it anyway. But perhaps most crucially, Llewyn Davis presents that kind of self-destruction as a cycle, same mistakes over and over and on and on with the same ole refrain: sorry about last time, sorry about last time . . .
Best Coen flick. Best music. Best cat.