The Oscar results are out, and unsurprisingly, A Complete Unknown, which snagged eight nominations, ended up empty-handed. Honestly, most of this year’s Oscar nods left me disappointed—especially Emilia Pérez, The Substance, and Best Picture winner Anora. But in the midst of all that mediocrity, A Complete Unknown was the only film that truly struck a chord with me. Today, I want to talk about this movie and how it tapped into that restless spirit of refusing to be mediocre and going against the grain.
I watched the movie on a lazy weekend at home, all by myself. The weather was as gloomy as my mood about this year’s Oscars, yet it was under that dreary sky that I got hooked onto the rebellious, lively performance in the second half of the film. In the movie, Timothée Chalamet ’s portrayal of Bob Dylan faces relentless pressure from the forces of traditional country music, and he decides to stop being silent. Ditching the usual conservative mix of acoustic guitar and harmonica, he boldly flips the script and goes full rock—electric guitar, pounding drums, and a raspy voice blasting back at the crowd’s sneers and disdain. That moment, challenging the old-school authority under the spotlight, instantly ignited in me a fierce dedication to freedom and individuality.
I can still picture Bob Dylan on stage, pouring his heart out with raw passion. He didn’t pander to the crowd and its expectations; instead, he unleashed his anger and determination in a nearly self-destructive way. His rebellion wasn’t just for show—it was a complete rejection of traditional rules. I remember thinking, “Dude, this is what true art looks like, not that market-pleasing, hollow routine!” That vibe, to me, perfectly aligns with Peliplat’s push for fresh, avant-garde, and diverse perspectives. After all, why should we let so-called “authorities” and “standards” tie us down? Real art and real ideas shouldn’t fear going against the norm—they should dare to break the mold.
Now, about Peliplat. I’ve got to be real here: sometimes the comments section feels like a “like factory,” chock-full of folks desperately fishing for upvotes. It makes you roll your eyes. Yet, that raw, unfiltered atmosphere is a snapshot of our times. Sure, the comments are often overblown and self-serving, but Peliplat remains one of the few places where I can freely express my views. Even with its many flaws and the constant barrage of robotic “up” and “like” responses, I stick around because here I can speak my mind without worrying about mainstream censorship or skewed numbers.
To me, Bob Dylan’s refusal to back down in the film perfectly mirrors the Gen Z mindset today. We’re all sick of being boxed in by labels and told how to live our lives. Just like in the film’s 1960s setting, where the old-school rituals, commercial packaging, and formulaic performances of traditional country music had long lost their charm, Timothée Chalamet’s rock turn—wild as it might be—brought back a long-missed sense of sincerity.
I can’t help but vent about most of this year’s Oscar nominees. Take Emilia Pé rez and The Substance—I walked away thinking, “Man, that’s just a tired formula with zero innovation.” And as for Anora, even though it bagged Best Picture, its polished yet bland storytelling and forced emotional cues just didn’t cut it for me. It’s not surprising, really—today’s movie market feels like a massive assembly line where everyone copies the same formula, forgetting that the heart of art is honesty and uniqueness. Let’s be clear: not every award-winning film is truly good, and not every movie tagged as “classic” will resonate on a deepened level. Sometimes these awards are more like commercial gimmicks, while the real measure of a film is the genuine reaction it sparks in its audience.

Sometimes I seriously wonder if these so-called film critics and award ceremonies are just messing with us. It seems like there’s an unspoken rule: the more nominations you get, the more “art” elements you’re supposed to have. But in reality, many films only pander to niche tastes or commercial interests, and the ones brave enough to take risks and defy tradition are all too rare. A Complete Unknown may not have taken home the prize, but its unorthodox style and fearless display of genuine emotion are what make it memorable.
Coming back to the film itself, I have to admit that A Complete Unknown is a bit weird in its presentation and doesn’t have that picture-perfect plot you’d expect from traditional cinema. Yet it’s exactly this weirdness and willingness to break the rules that makes it stand out among all the unimaginative nominees. We need a voice that dares to push boundaries and challenge authority—not one that just panders to the masses with recycled clichés. Bob Dylan’s performance in the film wasn’t just a musical experiment, it was a declaration: no matter how much the world laughs, I’m gonna be me and do my own thing.

After watching the movie at home, I couldn’t shake the intense excitement that welled up inside me—it was more than just appreciating an “art film.” It was a deep resonance, a shared discontent with the status quo, and a wild hope for what could be. In life, we’re constantly hemmed in by standards and rules that keep us from really speaking our truth. Movies like this remind us that even in the darkest corners, there’s always a spark of light shining.
All in all, even though this year’s Oscars left a bitter taste in many respects, they at least showed me a glimpse of new possibilities amid all the mediocrity. Bob Dylan in the film reminded me that even if everyone else is singing the same old tune, there’s always that one person willing to go off-key and be themselves. It’s a wake-up call: stop going with the flow—dare to question and challenge, and that’s when you’ll see the real light.
Catch you later for more movie musings!
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