Original subtitles

- (chattering) - (footsteps)

- (furniture thumping) - (silverware clattering)

Jy (acoustic guitar, strumming)

28 (plucking strings)

(chattering continues)

♪ (acoustic guitar)

♪ Hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ Hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ Wouldn't mind the hangin' ♪

♪ But the layin' in the grave's so long ♪

♪ Poor boy, I been ♪

♪ All around this world ♪

♪ Been all around Cape Girardeau ♪

♪ Parts of Arkansas ♪

♪ All around Cape Girardeau ♪

♪ Parts of Arkansas ♪

♪ I got so goddamn hungry ♪

♪ I could hide behind a straw ♪

♪ Poor boy, I been ♪

♪ All around this world ♪

♪ Went up on a mountain ♪

♪ There I made my stand

♪ Went up on a mountain ♪

♪ There I made my stand

♪ A rifle on my shoulder ♪

♪ And a dagger in my hand ♪

♪ Poor boy, I been ♪

♪ All around this world ♪

♪ Put the rope around my neck ♪

♪ Hang me up so high ♪

♪ Put the rope around my neck ♪

♪ They hung me up so high ♪

♪ The last words I heard 'em say ♪

♪ "Won't be long now 'fore you die" ♪

♪ Poor boy, I been ♪

♪ All around this world ♪

♪ So hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ And I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ Hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ And I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ I wouldn't mind the hangin' ♪

♪ But the layin' in the grave's so long ♪

♪ Poor boy, I been ♪

♪ All around this world ♪

♪ (ends)

(applause)

(whistling, applause continues)

You probably heard that one before.

If it was never new, and it never gets old, then it's a folk song.

(audience laughs)

- You and Mikey used to do that song. - Yeah.

- Boy, you were some mess last night. - Yeah, sorry, Pappi.

- (applauding) - I'm an asshole.

- Oh, I don't give a shit. It's just music. - &J' (acoustic guitar, strumming)

Your friend is out back.

- My friend? - Said he was a friend of yours.

Guy in a suit.

You a funny boy, huh?

What?

Had to open your big mouth, huh, funny boy?

I had to... what?

That's what I do for a living. Who — Who are you?

What you do.

What you do.

I'm sorry. What —

Oh! Fuck. Fuck.

You sit there in the audience last night, yellin' your crap.

Oh, for Christ's sake. You yell stuff, man. It's a show.

(groans) Fuck.

- It wasn't your show. - It's not the opera, jackass.

It's a fuckin' basket hou—

We're leaving this fucking cesspool. You can have it.

- (groans) - What you do.

- (meows) - (gasps)

(meows)

(purring)

♪ (speakers: classical, faint)

Hello?

♪ (classical continues, louder)

Jy (strumming along to classical)

Jy (vocalizing to classical)

JJ& (picking notes)

JJ& (strumming chords)

♪ (acoustic guitars)

♪ (guitars continue)

- (gasps) - (meows)

- Shit. - (door locks)

- (whispers) Shit. - MEN (harmonizing). J If I had wings ♪

Goddamn it!

♪ Like Noah's dove ♪

♪ I'd fly the river ♪

♪ To the one I love ♪

♪ Oh, fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

- ♪ Fare thee well ♪ - (knocking)

Hello?

♪ (guitars continue)

Hi.

Um, could you, um — C-Could I leave this cat with you?

- With me? - Yeah, it's, um —

It's the Gorfeins' cat. Just till one of them gets back.

With me?

I just — It slipped out, and I don't have the key.

- Could you just keep it till they get back? - I have to run the elevator.

I mean, th-that's not a problem, is it?

- It's the Gorfeins' cat. It — - I have to run the elevator.

- WOMAN: Sociology. - Uh, Professor Gorfein, please.

He's in a lecture now. Can I take a message?

Uh, yeah, could you — could you just tell him, uh,

don't worry, Llewyn has the cat.

Llewyn is the cat.

No, Llewyn has the cat. I'm Llewyn. I have his cat.

MEN (harmonizing). ♪ Well, I had a man ,

♪ Who was long and tall ♪

♪ He moved his body ♪

♪ Like a cannonball ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ I remember one evening ♪

♪ In the pouring rain ♪

♪ And in my heart ♪

♪ Was an aching pain ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ Bloody river ♪

♪ Runs muddy and wild ♪

- ♪ Can't give a bloody ♪ - Oh, shit.

♪ For my unborn child

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ So show us a bird ♪

♪ Flyin' high above ♪

♪ Life ain't worth living ♪

♪ Without the one you love ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

(buzzing)

(buzzing)

(lock buzzes, clicks)

Hey, Nunzio.

- Yeah. They ain't home though. - Yeah, I know. Can I use the fire escape?

♪ (continues)

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ My honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

Hiya.

- (man grunting) - (knocks)

- How we doin'? - We're doing great.

Really? New record's doing well?

Ah. "How we doin'?" Not so hot. I gotta be honest.

Ginny, where's Cincinnati?

- GINNY: What? - Cincinnati! It's not in here.

- It should be in there. - It's not in here, I'm telling you.

- Is it — - GINNY: Cincinnati?

- Yeah. - 1 got it.

What?

- 1 got it! - You got Cincinnati?

- Yeah. You want it? - Could I have it?

- Should I bring it in? - Yeah.

Do you owe me something? You have to owe me something.

I wish.

People need time, you know, to get to know you, buy you as a solo act.

Even know you're a solo act.

Cincinnati is not good.

- GINNY: That's it, right? - Yeah, this is it, God help us.

Nobody knew us when we were a duo.

It's not like me and Mike were ever a big act.

It's not a big reeducation for the public.

Mel?

Mel!

How you doing, kid?

Mel, there was no advance on my solo record. There's gotta be some royalty.

Fuckin' Christ's sake, it's cold out. I don't even have a winter coat.

Jesus Christ.

You're kidding me.

- Take this, kid. - Mel. No.

- insist. I insist. - I don't want your fuckin' coat.

- What'll you wear? - Kid, I'll get by.

It won't even fit me. This is — It's bullshit, Mel!

It's just a big, fat fuckin' bluff.

Bluff? Kid, what are you talk —

Bluff? I offer you this —

Get the fuck outta my office!

- All right. Thanks for the coat. - What?

(grunting) All right, wait.

Shit.

Let me give you 40 bucks.

(buzzing)

(lock buzzes, clicks)

- Explain the cat. - Yeah, sorry.

It's, uh — It's the Gorfeins' cat.

- I crashed there last night. - What's its name?

Uh, I = I don't know.

- He snuck out the door — - Do you think you're staying here tonight?

Uh... I was hoping to.

- Is Jim around? - Jim's not here.

- We told Troy he could crash here. - Troy Nelson. How are you?

How you doin'? Llewyn Davis.

Oh! Hello. I've heard your music.

And heard many nice things about you

from Jim and Jean and from others.

(laughs) You have not heard one nice thing about me from Jean.

Ever. Have you, Troy?

So you tell the Gorfeins you'll take care of their cat

and then bring him here for us to take care of.

TROY: I've heard nice things from Jim and Jean and o-others.

I didn't — It just happened.

- He's a peaceful cat. Very contented. - (purring)

So... I can't stay here tonight?

Look, we told Troy he could stay.

We don't keep the couch free on the chance you'll show up.

If this is awkward, I could hitch back to Fort Dix after I perform tonight.

JEAN: Don't be silly. We offered you the couch.

Y-You gigging somewhere?

Troy's playing at the Gaslight. We're meeting Jim there.

Well, I could sleep on the floor here and Llewyn could have the couch.

I'm certainly not a man of comforts.

Alternately, I could hitch back to Fort Dix after the show.

Llewyn can sleep on the floor.

With his cat.

It's the Gorfeins' cat.

What the fuck?

♪ (acoustic guitar)

♪ It's a lesson too late ♪

♪ For the learnin' ♪

♪ Made of sand ♪

♪ Made of sand ♪

♪ In the wink of an eye ♪

♪ My soul is turnin' ♪

♪ In your hand ♪

♪ In your hand ♪

♪ Are you going away ♪

♪ With no word of farewell? ♪

♪ Will there be not a trace left behind? ♪

- & Well, I could've loved you better ♪ - Llewyn. Good to see you.

♪ I didn't mean to be unkind ♪

♪ You know that was the last thing on my mind ♪

♪ You've got reasons aplenty ♪

♪ For goin' ♪

- What do you think? - && (continues)

What?

Him. Troy.

Wonderful performer.

- Is he? - Wonderful.

♪ Please don'tgo ♪

- Does he have... a higher function? - ♪ Please don't go ♪

PERSON: Shh!

- & Are you going away ♪ - I need a drink.

♪ With no word of farewell? ♪

♪ (continues)

Look, Jim, I didn't wanna mention this in front of Jean. You know how she gets.

- What do you mean? - Just, uh — You know —

I need, uh — I need to borrow some money.

I can pay you back really soon. That and the last loan.

There's a girl I know who's in trouble. Needs to get fixed.

- Not again. - This is a different girl.

- Don't tell Jean. - Wh —-

I — I can't get the money without Jean knowing.

- It's okay. - No, no, no. It's okay.

- (applause) - I'll find it = I'll find it somewhere else.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

There's someone special in the audience tonight

who will maybe help me out here if you'd give a round of applause.

I don't have my guitar.

I know you folks know 'em and love 'em. Ladies and gentlemen, Jim and Jean.

Oh.

(applause continues)

♪ (guitars)

♪ If you miss the train I'm on ♪

♪ You will know that I am gone ♪

♪ You can hear the whistle blow ♪

♪ A hundred miles ♪

(harmonizing, audience singing along) ♪ A hundred miles, a hundred miles ♪

♪ A hundred miles A hundred miles ♪

♪ You can hear the whistle blow ♪

♪ A hundred miles ♪

(solo) ♪ Lord, I'm one, Lord, I'm two ♪

♪ Lord, I'm three Lord, I'm four ♪

♪ Lord, I'm 500 miles ♪

♪ Away from home ♪

♪ Away from home Away from home ♪

♪ Away from home ♪

♪ Away from home ♪

♪ Lord, I'm 500 miles ♪

♪ Away from home ♪

(solo) ♪ Not a shirt ♪

♪ On my back ♪

♪ Not a penny to my name ♪

♪ Lord, I can't go back home ♪

♪ This-a-way ♪

♪ This-a-way, this-a-way ♪

♪ This-a-way ♪

♪ This-a-way ♪

♪ Lord, I can't go back home ♪

♪ This-a-way ♪

♪ If you miss the train I'm on ♪

- & You will know that I am gone ♪ - Boy, they're not bad.

- ♪ You can hear the whistle blow ♪ - Uh-huh.

- That Jean. - & A hundred miles ♪

I'd like to fuck her.

♪ A hundred miles A hundred miles ♪

♪ A hundred miles ♪

- & A hundred miles ♪ - Uh-huh.

♪ You can hear ♪

♪ The whistle blow ♪

♪ A hundred ♪

♪ Miles ♪

(crunching)

(crunching)

(crunching continues)

(crunching continues)

(groans)

Mmm. Sorry.

It's early. I tried not to wake anyone.

Mm-hmm.

(slurping)

Well, that was very good.

What's next?

What do you mean?

Do you plug yourself in somewhere?

No.

Well,

report for duty.

Back to Fort Dix.

They making you a killing machine?

No, it's probably different from what you imagine.

There's the discipline, which is what you're referring to.

I thrive on that.

Weaponry is part of the job.

Armaments are not my thing. I don't even approve of war toys.

- Is it a career? - No, no. I get out in a few months.

Bud Grossman has expressed interest in representing me.

Bud Grossman?

What's he like?

Mr. Grossman is a wonderful man. He's been very supportive.

I played at his club in Chicago on my last furlough,

right after I got back from Germany.

Did you meet Elvis?

No. Everyone asks that.

No, I did not meet Private Presley.

So you played at the Gate of Horn?

Yes.

Mr. Grossman liked what he saw, I guess.

- He thinks I can have a career. - Mmm.

- Thank Jim and Jean for me. - Mm-hmm.

TROY: So long.

- (door closes) - (cat meows)

What's your name again?

(meows)

Oh, shit. No! No! Oh —

Fuck! Goddamn it! Oh, shit.

Fuck.

Shit. Cat!

- (man shouting, faint) - Fuck.

Kitty!

Fuck. Fuck.

(knocks)

Thanks for keeping quiet, asshole.

I'm freezing. Can we talk?

Not here. Fuck you.

I'm sorry. Which? "Out" or "Fuck you™?

Let's go out. Can I borrow Jim's coat?

JEAN: I don't know.

- You don't know if it's mine? - No.

How would I know?

- So it could be Jim's. - Yes, asshole!

But... you don't want it either way, to be clear.

To be clear, asshole, you fucking asshole,

I want very much to have it if it's Jim's.

That's what I want.

But since I don't know, you not only fucked things up by fucking me

and maybe making me pregnant,

but even if it's not yours I can't know that.

So I have to get rid of what might be a perfectly fine baby, a baby I want,

because everything you touch turns to shit/

Like King Midas's idiot brother.

Well, okay.

I see.

- You know a doctor, right? - Yes.

From when? Whatever. Diane?

Yes.

- And you'll pay for it? - Yes.

(sighs) Don't tell Jim, obviously.

I should've had you wear double condoms.

Well, we shouldn't have done it in the first place.

But if you ever do it again —

which, as a favor to women everywhere, you should not —

But if you do, you should be wearing condom on condom,

and then wrap it in electrical tape.

You should just walk around always inside a great big condom,

- because you are shit. - Okay.

You should not be in contact with any living thing, being shit.

Have you ever heard the expression, "It takes two to tango™?

Fuck you.

Well, I could say we should talk about this when you're less angry,

but that would be...

that'd be...

- When would that be? - Fuck you!

(sighs)

I miss Mike.

(sighs) Could I ask you for a favor?

You're joking.

It's not for me. It's for the Gorfeins.

Their cat got out. Could you leave the fire escape window open?

It's winter.

Just enough for the cat to squeeze back in?

- It could come back. - To our apartment?

It was there, like, six hours. Why would it come back there?

I don't know! I'm not a fucking cat!

Think about it. I lost their fucking cat. I feel bad about it.

That's what you feel bad about?

Hello. Where's your coat?

- It's not that cold. - You outta your mind?

So how's the music going?

Uh, pretty good. Pretty good.

Well, good. So you don't need to borrow money.

- Actually, I was wondering — - Uh-huh.

- Is it sold? - The house?

- Yeah. - Yeah. Uh-huh.

I mean, it's in escrow.

- How much? - 11,500.

But why? It's not our house.

- "Not our house™? - Well, yeah.

It's Mom and Dad's house.

Llewyn, it goes to his upkeep.

We don't get any.

(sighs)

Good thing your music's going good.

I'm sorry.

- Yeah, well, what the fuck. - Liewyn.

- What? - The language.

Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry.

I am not one of your Greenwich Village friends.

Okay. Yeah, yeah.

- You still got your seaman's papers? - Yeah. Why?

Well, if the music's not —

What, quit?

Merchant Marine again? Just... exist?

(laughing) Exist?

Is that what we do outside of show business?

It's not so bad, existing.

- Like Dad? - Liewyn.

- What? - You say that about your own father?

- What? - That he "exists"?

- I didn't say it. You said it. - That he exists? Like that?

Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry.

(sighs) Seen him?

Yeah — What?

- Should 1? - You tell me. He's your father.

Yeah, he sure is.

Oh. I got — Wait, I got — You got a minute?

Well, they —

they want me back for rehearsals.

Sullivan show.

I got autographs to sign.

- Champagne reception. - Don't go away.

I cleaned it out, the house.

There's some stuff. I put your stuff in a box.

What I thought you might want.

I don't know, Joy. Just stick it out at the curb.

Llewyn, are you kidding? Look at this.

You know what this is?

This is when you recorded "Shoals of Herring" for Mom and Dad.

Whatever. You're, like, eight years old.

It's so cute!

Well, see, Joy, in the entertainment business

you're not supposed to let your practice shit out.

It ruins the mystique.

I'm sorry. I don't know a lot about the entertainment business.

Yeah, well, don't be sorry.

No, no, no, no, no. I'll bring the cat up. It's fine.

I just, uh — I can't today, as it turns out.

- I can't bring her today. - Him.

- Him. Him. - But I could get down there —

Yeah, he's hanging out at Jim and Jean's.

He likes it there. He's fine. Believe me, he's fine.

- Okay, but it's easy for me — - No, no, no. They're not home.

- Okay. - They're never home.

- All right. - Uh, so —

Anyway, I couldn't ask you to do that. All the way down to the Village, Mitch.

No, I'll bring her up tomorrow — Him. Him up tomorrow.

Okay, good. And remember to call Jim. He said it was urgent.

Uh, yeah. I doubt if it's urgent, but yeah, I'll call him. Thanks.

No, he said it's urgent. It's a session this afternoon at Columbia.

Somebody got sick and dropped out. He thought you'd like the work.

- What? What? - (train rumbling)

- (Gorfein continues, faint) - Did he say that I'd need my guitar?

- [ don't think he mentioned a guitar. - Do I need my guitar?

No?

Hi. I'm here for Mr. Cromartie's session. Llewyn Davis.

Have a seat. I'll let him know you're here.

- (door closes) - (footsteps)

Llewyn.

Mr. Cromartie. It's an honor to meet you.

(chuckles) Where's your guitar?

- (chuckling, chattering) - JJ (guitars)

- Hey. - Hey, man, you made it.

- Yeah. - You'll play a Gibson, right?

Yours? Sure. Yeah. You're playing a —

Triple O 21. Do you know Al Cody?

- Hey, man. Hi. - Hi.

You read a chart, Llewyn?

I, uh — I can stare at a chart and fake it, sir.

(chuckling) All right.

Jim and Al will teach you the song.

- Take your time. We're here to have fun. - All right.

So, we're, uh — We're the what? The John Glenn Singers?

CROMARTIE: It's not the most serious music we've recorded in this studio.

Uh — (stammers) It's a thing.

♪ I don't wanna Don't send me up into outer space ♪

- ♪ I sweat when they put me ♪ - Yeah, but we wanna go to the —

Let's do the "p-p-please" into the — into the verse.

- Really? - Yeah.

♪ P-P-P — Don't send me up into outer sp-p-p - ♪

No, it gets all muddled up into the verse.

- No, no, no. - AL: Sha-oot!

You just do the P-P-Ps into the ver — If you do two P-Ps —

- P-P in the sweat one? - Yep. Yep.

- Really? - Yep.

- Yeah. - P-P —

♪ I sweat when they stuff me ♪

- ♪ In the pressure suit ♪ - Suit!

♪ Bubble helmet Flash Gordon boots ♪

AL: Out! Out! Out!

♪ Gravity ♪

- Shoot! - ♪ That's no place to be a hero

- Okay. - oJ (vocalizing)

Okay.

Hey, look, I'm happy for the gig. But who — who wrote this?

- I did. _Y —

CROMARTIE: Okay?

JIM: So, 0-0-okay.

- Good. - AL: Sha-oot!

CROMARTIE: "Please, Mr. Kennedy," take one.

And we're rolling.

(quietly) One, two. One, two, three, four.

♪ Ten, nine, eight-seven-six-five ♪

♪ Four, three ♪

- > Two ♪ - One second, please!

- ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪ - AL: Uh-oh!

- ♪ ldon'twannago ♪ - ♪ Please, don't you shoot me into outer space

- ♪ P-Please ♪ - ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪

- Uh-oh! - ♪ ldon'twannago ♪

♪ Please don't you shoot me into outer sp-sp — ♪

♪ I sweat when they stuff me in the pressure suits ♪

♪ Bubble helmet Flash Gordon boots ♪

- & Nowhere up there ♪ - Quter!

- & In gravity zero ♪ - Space!

- ♪ I need to breathe ♪ - Quter!

- ♪ Don't need to be a hero ♪ - Space!

♪ And are you reading me loud and clear-o ♪

- ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪ - Uh-oh!

- ♪ ldon'twannago ♪ - ♪ Please, don't you shoot me into outer space

- P-P-P- - ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪

- Uh-oh! - ♪ ldon'twannago ♪

♪ Please don't you shoot me into outer space ♪

- P- - dI'm6foot2 ♪

♪ And so perhaps you'll ♪

♪ Tell me how to fit into a five-foot capsule ♪

♪ 1 won't be known as man of the century ♪

♪ If I burn up upon reentry ♪

- ♪ Got a red-blooded wife ♪ - Quter!

- & With a healthy libido ♪ - Space!

- ♪ You'll lose her vote ♪ - Quter!

- ♪ If you make her a widow ♪ - Space!

- & And who'll play catch out in the back with our kid-0? ♪ - oJ (Al vocalizing)

- ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪ - Uh-oh!

- ♪ ldon'twannago ♪ - ♪ Please, don't you shoot me into outer space

♪ Countdown, 10, nine ♪

♪ Eight-seven-six-five ♪

♪ Four, three, two ♪

- Oh, no! - &d0OhJ

- ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪ - Uh-oh!

- ♪ ldon'twannago ♪ - ♪ Please, don't you shoot me into outer space

- ♪ P-P-Please I - ♪ Oh, please ♪

- ♪ P-P-Please I - ♪ Oh, please ♪

- ♪ Please ♪ - & Don't shoot me off into outer space ♪

♪ Oh, please ♪

- ♪ Please, Mr. Kennedy Please, Mr. Kennedy ♪ - ♪ Oh, please ♪

- ♪ Please don't shoot me into outer space ♪ - ♪ Oh, please ♪

♪ Oh, please ♪

♪ Mr. Kennedy ♪

LLEWYN: No, thank you. I appreciate it.

I needed this, as you know.

Oh.

- We'll be touring, right? - Touring Uranus.

I'll get my vaccinations. Sign where?

- You are AF of M, right? - Yeah.

Sign there and there.

- You don't have a label? - Uh, I do. Legacy.

Oh. You're exclusive to Mel. I'll need a permission. He'll give you one.

- See you. - Uh -

That's gonna take — Shit, man, I need the money now.

You wanna just be an independent contractor,

Accounting will give you a check today.

Just bill us for services — $200.

- That's more than a session fee 'cause you don't get royalties. - Okay, that's fine. And I can cash it?

Sure. Right around the corner.

But you don't go on a session sheet then, so no royalties.

That's okay. That's fine. Hey, where do you live, Al?

- Downing Street. - Yeah? Nice place?

- It's a dump. - Uh-huh. Got a couch?

(typewriter bell dings)

- Where's Mel? - Mel's at a funeral.

- Boy, that man goes to a lot of funerals. - He likes people.

- Fewer and fewer. - This is family.

His nephew, Georgie, is engaged to a girl whose mother just passed.

- I don't know if that's family. - He likes funerals.

I don't know what to tell you.

I forgot to pick up my mail yesterday. I was so pissed at Mel.

- You didn't forget to pick up your mail. - Yeah, I did.

You don't have any mail.

Oh.

- Shit. - (bell dings)

I didn't get anything from Bud Grossman in Chicago?

You were supposed to get something from Bud Grossman?

Yeah, I had Mel send him my solo record when it came out.

- Whenever. More than a month ago. - Oh.

No, you didn't get anything.

But we were making space in the stockroom

and dumped the rest of the old records.

All the remainders.

- (rustling) - (Ginny grunts)

(straining) Yours and Mikey's.

Mel set one box aside.

Thought you might wanna keep some copies.

- (typing) - What am I gonna do with them?

Should I throw 'em out?

- Oh, good. - Hey.

Here's a key.

Just going out to Jersey to pick up my mom's car.

- Okay. Oh! Sorry. Okay. - (Al laughs)

(exhales)

(springs squeaking)

Mm-hmm.

(baby crying in distance)

(buzzing)

- JEAN. Yeah? - Hey, it's me, Llewyn.

- Yeah? - Can I come up?

No.

(sighs) Okay.

Well —

Well, can I have my stuff?

I'll bring it down. I'll meet you at the Reggio.

Hey.

Thank you.

- Who won the lottery tonight? - Huh?

Oh. I'm staying at Al Cody's.

So, when do you wanna do the — Have the —

The abortion?

The sooner the better.

Okay. I'll see when the guy can do it then.

"The guy"? I hope it's a doctor.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's a doctor.

- You got the money? - Yes, I have the money. Don't worry.

- With you, I worry. - Well, you shouldn't.

Yes, I should. God knows you never do.

You just let other people, like your method of birth control.

Please don't start with the double condoms again.

Do you ever think about the future at all?

(sighs) The future?

You mean, like flying cars?

Hotels on the moon? Tang?

- And this is why you're fucked. - No, it's why you're fucked.

You're just trying to blueprint a future.

- Move to the suburbs with Jim, have kids. - That's bad?

If that's what music is for you, a way to get to that place,

then, yeah, it's a little careerist.

And it's a little square.

And it's a little sad.

I'm sad? You're the one who's not getting anywhere.

You don't wanna get anywhere. Me and Jim try.

- 1 do. I wanna — - We try. You sleep on the couch.

- That's a bad thing to throw in my face. - You don't wanna go anywhere.

And that's why all the same shit is gonna keep happening to you, because you want it to.

- Is that why? - Yes.

And also because you're an asshole who sleeps with other people's women.

Let's not forget that.

You're being pretty kind to yourself now, aren't you?

- Whose couch are you on tonight? - I told you. Al Cody's.

You don't listen.

You just spout vitriol.

Keep an eye on my shit.

Hey. Hey.

Hey, hey.

- Oh! (sighs) - (yowls)

Oh, goddamn it. I am one lucky bastard.

Thanks for suggesting this place.

Poor thing couldn't have eaten since yesterday. It's a damn house cat.

There you go. You know its name? I can't remember his name.

I don't know its name. I don't hang out with the Gorfeins.

Oh, good kitty. Jesus. Thank God.

Well, where were we?

You were calling me a careerist, and I was calling you a loser.

Right, well, those are your categories.

No, those are your categories.

You know, in my experience, the world's divided into two kinds of people.

- Those who divide the world into two kinds of people — - And losers?

- Hey. - Hey.

Can you bring this up for me? This ain't a spot.

- I just brought some stuff from home. - Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.

- Hey, you don't need to — - (cat meows)

Meow. You don't need to crash for more than a couple days, do you?

My girlfriend's coming down from Boston Tuesday.

Uh — Yeah, no, that's — Yeah, it's fine. That's okay. Yeah, thanks.

You don't wanna go to Chicago, do you?

- Why would I wanna go to Chicago? - Yeah. (laughs)

This car's going to Chicago Tuesday.

A friend of mine is taking someone to a gig and they're looking for someone to help pay for gas.

I prefer New York.

- Who's Arthur Milgram? - Oh, that's me.

I'm gonna change it legally, at some point.

(cat meows)

NURSE: Mr. Davis?

- No, no, she won't want me with her. - Oh, okay.

She should have a friend though. Someone who can help her home.

- Okay, I'll let her know. - It'll have to be on a Saturday.

- Hey, I could do it this Saturday. - Okay.

I'll, uh, pay you now since I won't see you. Cash.

Uh, no, no, no. (chuckles)

- No charge. - Huh?

You know, from last time.

From last time? You mean Diane?

Yeah. I-I didn't have a number or an address for you.

Where do you live anyway?

Wait, what?

- 1 didn't have a — - Why — Why is there no charge this time?

Huh?

Why...

Well, you know.

No, I don't know, man. You working pro bono now?

Well, no. Since it didn't happen last time.

What didn't happen?

Diane didn't tell you?

Diane did not terminate the pregnancy.

She came in to tell me she decided to... go to term.

She didn't tell you?

Uh, no.

She, uh...

Geez, she asked me to refer her to a doctor in Akron.

- In Akron? - To deliver the, uh —

The, uh —

No, I knew she was going to Akron. She's from Akron.

DOCTOR: Yes.

- I'm sorry, I thought — - Her parents are in Akron.

The kid would be about two now?

Yeah, I-] guess.

Yes. (chuckles)

I'm sorry. I didn't know how to get the money back to you.

I never see you at the hoots anymore.

- Oh, there's the cat. - Yeah.

Oh. Home from the hill.

Hey, Llewyn, welcome. Come onin.

Lillian's in the kitchen. She's making her famous moussaka.

No, I can't barge in for dinner. I just wanted to —

- Come on. One more person? - No, no, no. No, I can't.

Moussaka? Come on.

Do you know, uh — Do you know Marty Green and Janet Fung?

LLEWYN: Hello. Nice to meet you. Llewyn Davis.

Oh, Mitch and Lillian's folk song friend.

- You crashing with us? - Oh, no, no, no.

I hadn't even planned on dinner.

Llewyn's not an Upper West Side guy. We only get to see him when —

When I've rotated through my Village friends.

Yeah, we're the last resort.

Marty's in my department. And Joe's a musician.

This is Joe Flom. He plays in Musica Antica with Lillian.

Oh. Hello. How you doing?

- Nice to meet you. - Yes.

Uh, what's your instrument?

Well, anything with a keyboard.

I play celeste and harpsichord in MA.

I'm a piano instructor most days.

- Hey, bum a cigarette? - Oh, sure.

Glass of wine, Llewyn?

- A little dago red? - Yeah.

(chuckling) Hey.

- I should've brought something. - Don't be silly. You brought the cat.

Yeah, right.

You know, uh,

I used to, uh, take piano lessons when I was a kid

from, uh, Mrs. Sieglestein.

You don't know Mrs. Sieglestein, do you?

Very, very big calves. Orthopedic shoes.

Lives in Far Rockaway, upstairs from the Kurlands?

Does she play early music?

Um,

Harry James on the radio.

On the piano, um,

"Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes."

JOE: Uh-huh.

- She was not a swinger. - Well, Harry James.

Okay, yeah, well, her playing, though, was pretty on the beat.

- (glasses clinking) - He's adorable.

- How old is he? - Just turned two in April.

- He's with my mother now. - Grandmas come in handy, right?

- LLEWYN: What's his name? - Howie.

He already calls him Howie. It's Howard.

Howie Greenfung.

What? Like —

Like "Green-Fung"? Hyphenated?

No, no, one word. Greenfung.

Howard Greenfung.

- You're kidding, right? - No.

Llewyn, why don't you — Why don't you give us a song?

Oh, yes, please. He's very good.

- Joe should hear you. - No.

- And Marty and Janet. - Of course, Marty and Janet.

I'm getting my Silvertone. You get to play it if, and only if, you sing.

LLEWYN: Right, yeah, okay.

This is one of those things where I keep saying "no" and you think I'm just asking you to beg more.

- Yes, that's right. - Look, I'm not a trained poodle.

I thought singing was a joyous expression of the soul.

Yeah.

(sighs)

All right. Um —

This is—

This one's early. Joe should like it.

♪ If had wings ♪

♪ Like Noah's dove ♪

♪ I'd fly up the river ♪

♪ To the one I love ♪

- ♪ Fare thee well ♪ - &J' (harmonizing)

♪ Oh, honey ♪

- What are you doing? - What?

What is that? What are you doing?

- Well, it's Mike's part. - Don't do that.

- (exhales) - It's Mike's part.

I know what it is. Don't do that.

Oh, you know what? This is bullshit.

I'm sorry, this is — I don't do this. Okay?

I do this for a living. It's not a — It's not a fucking parlor game.

- Llewyn, please. That's unfair to Lillian. - This is bullshit.

I don't ask you over for dinner and then suggest you give a lecture

on the peoples of Mesoamerica or whatever your pre-Columbian shit is.

This is my job. This is how I pay the fucking rent.

Llewyn, that's not —

- This is a loving home. - I'm a fucking professional.

And you know what? Fuck Mike's part!

- (gasping, whimpering) - It's okay, Lillian.

This is — No, I can't stay in this room!

Can't stay in this room!

- (Lillian sobbing) - (door slams)

Well, she — She doesn't have to leave.

I'm leaving, obviously.

Sorry I fucked up your evening.

Thank you for the moussaka.

(Lillian screams)

This is not our cat.

What? Of course that's your cat.

- MITCH: Oh, my God. - It's not even male.

Where's its scrotum, Llewyn?

- Wh —- - Where's its scrotum?

(thunder rumbling)

(windshield wipers thumping)

My stuff.

Hello.

Yeah, hey.

(gasping, coughing)

- (cane thumps against case) - What's this?

It's my guitar.

Sure. Move in. Don't mind me.

Make yourself at home.

What are you, a flamenco dancer?

What's your name? Pablo?

Llewyn Davis.

I am Roland Turner.

This is my valet, Johnny Five.

Johnny Five.

ROLAND: And that was the last time I was in Murfreesboro.

Gave me to understand I would not be welcome back.

I said, "That's okay, brother.

I might have managed on my own not to make it back

to your little flyspeck, horseshit town."

What the "N" stand for?

- What? - What's the "N" stand for?

- Lou N. Davis. - "Llewyn. "

Llewyn. L-L-E-W-Y-N. It's Welsh.

Well, it would have to be something. Stupid fucking name like that.

- You don't look Welsh. - My mother was Italian.

Here. This would interest you.

Johnny and I were in Seattle playing the High Spot.

Remember this, Johnny?

And I became indisposed after eating a toasted cheese sandwich

and found myself purging from every orifice,

one of them like a fire hose.

I said to the manager,

"What do you call that thing I just ate?"

He said, "Welsh rarebit."

I says, "Okay, does everything from Wales make you shit yourself,

or just this piece of toast?"

He said — Holy Jesus! What is that thing?

Uh, it's — It's my cat. Well, it's not my cat. It's —

Grown man with a cat.

- Is that part of your act? - No.

- What'd you say you played? - Folk songs.

Folk songs. Thought you said you were a musician.

Folk singer with a cat.

- You queer? - (sighs) I —

It's not my cat. I just didn't know what to do with it.

Really? So did you bring your dick along too?

Johnny, hold up.

There's a service station.

Your turn to pay for gas, Elwin.

He still in there?

(Roland coughs)

(wheezing, coughing)

You're a friend of Al's?

Yeah.

♪ (acoustic guitar)

♪ When I go by Baltimore ♪

♪ Need no carpet on my floor ♪

♪ Come along and follow me ♪

♪ We'll go down to Galilee ♪

Everybody!

♪ Green, green, rocky road ♪

Yeah.

♪ Promenade in green ♪

Mm-hmm.

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love ♪

Nice.

(sighs)

- Jy (ends) - ROLAND: ...a sign that said,

"No massé shots, no coins on cloth."

I said, "Am I allowed to bank the ball off the cushions, or is that too fancy?"

The guy says, "You're a hustler."

I say, "You're a fucking idiot.

A hustler pretends he's out of his depth.

I'm telling you I'm an adept.

Maybe you're the hustler pretending to be a lunkhead.

Got me fooled."

"No massé shots, no coins on cloth."

Don't give me rules. You play what you play.

Well, you don't, but in jazz, you know, we play all the notes.

Twelve notes in a scale, dipshit,

not three chords on a ukulele.

7G, GC,Gr

JC, D,GJ

Well, if you make a living at it, more power to you.

Solo act?

Yeah, now.

Now? Used to, what, work with the cat?

Every time you'd play a C-major, he'd puke a hair ball?

I used to have a partner.

What happened?

He threw himself off the George Washington Bridge.

Well, shit, I don't blame him.

I couldn't take it either, having to play "Jimmy Crack Corn" every night.

Oh, pardon me for saying so. That's pretty fucking stupid, isn't it?

George Washington Bridge?

You throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge, traditionally.

George Washington Bridge?

Who does that?

What was he, a dumbbell?

Not really.

And that's when you picked up the cat?

Here, Cowboy Chords, this would interest you.

There's this act I saw in Montreux, Switzerland.

- A bass, piano and a sound tree — - Hey, Mr. Turner, I'm wondering.

Huh?

Would that cane fit all the way up your ass,

or would a little bit stay sticking out?

Okay.

Okay.

Except threats and intimidation won't work with me.

You wanna know why? This would interest you.

I studied Santeria and certain other things

that squares like you would call the black arts

due to lack of understanding

from Chano Pozzo in New Orleans.

You say you'll mess me up?

I don't have to make those childish threats.

I do my thing, and one day you wake up wondering,

"Why do I have this pain in my side?"

Or maybe it won't even be that specific.

Maybe it's, "Why is nothing going right for me?

My life is a big bowl of shit.

I don't remember making this big bowl of shit."

Meantime, Roland Turner is a thousand miles away,

laughing his ass off.

Think about that, Elwin.

In this car, bad manners won't work.

Bum a cigarette?

I'm out.

(snoring)

"Clean Asshole Poems,"

Orlovsky.

Then... acted.

The Brig.

Three weeks on that show.

Could've been more.

Cops closed it.

How come?

Long story.

JOHNNY: "More, more, more,' cried the bed.

'Talk to me more.'

Oh, bed that taked the weight of the world.

All the lost dreams laid on you.

Oh, bed that grows no hair,

that cannot be fucked,

or can be fucked.

Oh, bed, crumbs of all ages spilled on you.

Oh, bed."

Yes.

Well —

Excuse me.

Hiya.

How far are we from Chicago?

About three hours. Little more, with the weather.

(bell dings)

(loud thudding)

(breathing erratically)

(running footsteps)

- Should I go call an ambulance? - No, he's all right.

Grab his sticks.

(windshield wipers thumping)

(thumping continues)

(tapping on windshield)

- What are you doing? - We just got —

You can't stop here.

Just pulled over to rest a little bit.

- You inebriated? - He's not drunk.

I wasn't talking to you.

You. Get out of the car.

- Me? - You! Out of the car.

(car door opens)

- Come here. I want you to walk — - Hands off the merchandise.

- Don't play games, kid. - (grunts)

- Son of a bitch. - (handcuffs ratcheting)

- Let's go. - Yeah?

JOHNNY: I've been in your jails. That's not going to work.

(car door opens)

(car door closes)

(siren wailing)

(engine idling)

(wind whistling)

Aw, sh —

(chattering)

WAITRESS: Number two.

- More coffee? - Yeah.

(line ringing)

(ringing continues)

We're switching over. Could you pay the ticket?

What train are you waiting for?

(wind whistling)

(traffic passing)

(door closes)

Hello?

Hello?

Is Bud Grossman here?

Isn't in yet.

Can I wait here?

Uh, sure. Maybe an hour.

♪ (guitar)

♪ Cocaine runnin' all around my brain ♪

- (galoshes squeaking) - (man grunting)

Mr. Grossman.

Yeah?

I, um — I'm Llewyn Davis.

Uh-huh.

I'm sorry. Do you know me?

No.

Um, Mel Novikoff sent you my record about a month ago.

- Inside Llewyn Davis. - Oh, you're with Mel.

Yeah, yeah. I was, uh, just in Chicago, just, uh — just passing through.

Um, do you like the record?

Don't know. I didn't get it.

Well, um,

here itis, uh — It's —

This is it anyway. It's —

Um —

That'll be five dollars.

I was joking.

Uh-huh.

Well, yeah, I'm, um —

I'm interested in gigging here,

but, um, maybe also in obtaining management.

Uh-huh.

- You getting any money out of Mel? - Not —

Yeah, I bet.

Okay, let's hear something.

You don't want to hear the record?

Why should I? You're here. Play me something.

Play me something from

Inside Llewyn Davis.

Okay. All right. Here? Stage?

Not here.

♪ (chords)

Okay.

♪ Queen Jane lay in labor ♪

♪ Full nine days or more ♪

♪ Till her women grew so tired ♪

♪ They could no longer there ♪

♪ They could no longer there ♪

♪ King Henry, King Henry ♪

♪ Will you do one thing for me? ♪

♪ Will you open my right side ♪

♪ And find my baby? ♪

♪ And find my baby? ♪

♪ "Oh, no," cried King Henry ♪

♪ "That's a thing I never can do ♪

♪ If I lose the flower of England

♪ I shall lose the branch too ♪

♪ I shall lose the branch too" ♪

♪ There was fiddling and dancing ♪

♪ On the day the babe was born ♪

♪ But poor Queen Jane ♪

♪ Beloved ♪

♪ Lay cold as a stone ♪

♪ Lay cold as a stone ♪

I don't see a lot of money here.

Okay.

Okay. So that's it?

You're okay. You're not green.

But I don't have what, say, Troy Nelson has.

You know Troy?

Good kid. He's a good kid.

Yeah.

He connects with people.

Look, I'm putting together a trio. Two guys and a girl singer.

You're no front guy, but if you can cut that down to a goatee,

stay out of the sun,

we might see how your voice works with the other two.

- You comfortable with harmonies? - No.

Yes. But, um, no.

No, I had a partner.

Uh-huh. Well, that makes sense.

My suggestion?

Get back together.

That's good advice.

Thank you, Mr. Grossman.

(wind gusting)

- Where you going? - New York.

Man, that's great. I'm going home to New Jersey.

- I've not slept. You drive, right? - Yeah.

Well, as long as you drive and let me sleep, we can do it all the way, man.

♪ (radio: men singing doo-wop)

♪ (continues)

♪ (whistling)

♪ (singing continues)

♪ (continues)

(windshield wipers thumping)

(sniffs)

(tuning stations)

♪ (woman singing opera)

(gasps) Oh, sh —

(tires squealing)

♪ (opera continues)

LLEWYN: So, uh, can I ship out?

No, you cannot.

- Why? - You're not on the roster.

Okay. Well, can you put me on the roster?

- No, I cannot. - Why?

- Why you think? - I don't know. 'Cause I'm a communist.

- Shachtmanite? - What?

No, ain't that. You ain't, uh —

- You ain't current. - I'm not current?

- That's another way of putting it. - Is that a nautical term?

You ain't current on your dues.

You pay your dues, arrears, 148 bucks,

you go back on the roster, and I can ship you out.

There's a post on the Maid of the Gate, seaman first class.

She weighs anchor this Friday, 6:00 PM.

The money, what I owe, can't they just take it out of, whatever, the first week?

I can't run out on it. I'm in your fucking sardine can.

Yeah, they don't do that. You gotta be current to ship out.

Wow.

I just make it. I'm leaving naked, man.

Clean start. Okay. Can I pay you?

Mm-hmm. Now I will write you a receipt,

along with the, uh, pier, ship number and the time.

You got your Masters, Mates and Pilots license, right?

- Cause you ain't shipping out without that. - Yeah, I got it.

There you go, Llewyn Davis.

Hey, you're not Hugh Davis's kid, are you?

Why not?

(seagulls squawking)

Hiya.

How's it going?

I'm taking off, Pop.

Won't see you for a while.

Shipping out.

Try something new.

I mean something old.

Okay.

(case latches clicking)

Here's this. You used to like this.

Jy (humming)

♪ Oh, it was a fine ♪

♪ And a pleasant day ♪

♪ Out of Yarmouth Harbor ♪

♪ I was faring ♪

♪ As a cabin boy ♪

♪ On a sailing lugger ♪

♪ For to hunt ♪

♪ The bonny shoals of herring ♪

♪ Now you're up on deck ♪

♪ You're a fisherman ♪

♪ You can swear ♪

♪ And show a manly bearing ♪

♪ Take your turn and watch ♪

♪ With the other fellas ♪

♪ As you hunt ♪

♪ The bonny shoals of herring ♪

♪ Well, I earned my keep ♪

♪ And I paid my way ♪

♪ And I earned the gear

♪ That I was wearing ♪

♪ I sailed a million miles ♪

♪ Caught 10 million fishes ♪

♪ We were dreaming ♪

♪ Of the shoals ♪

♪ Of herring ♪

♪ Night and day ♪

♪ The seas were daring ♪

♪ Come wind or calm ♪

♪ Or winter gale ♪

♪ Sweating or cold ♪

♪ Growing up, growing old ♪

♪ Or dying ♪

♪ As we dream about ♪

♪ The shoals ♪

♪ Of herring oJ

Wow.

Wow.

Excuse me?

Could I trouble you? My father had, um —

He needs to be cleaned.

(door opens)

How is he?

He's great.

Good to see what I have to look forward to.

What? Llewyn.

No, I'm not kidding. I got it all figured out now.

You put in some hard years, yeah, but eventually you get to kick back.

Your food brought to you. Don't even have to get up to shit.

Llewyn, Danny's sitting right here.

- Oh, sorry. - What's wrong with you? Shame on you.

I'm sorry. It was really good to see him. It was great.

- Where'd you put my file box? - Huh?

From the house. Where's my file box?

You told me to throw everything out.

All the old shit, Joy. Fuck. You threw out my file box?

- Liewyn. - Yeah, no cursing.

Except now I gotta go back to the fucking union hall.

It had my Masters, Mates and Pilots license in it.

Jesus Christ, Joy.

You told me to put it out by the curb. It's what I did.

I want you to leave. Get out of here.

Fuck.

- Yeah, I'm a dick, right? - That's right.

Danny, your uncle's a bad man.

Okay.

(buzzes)

- JEAN. Hello? - It's Llewyn. Don't hang up.

I don't want to stay. I just need a place to dump my stuff. Please.

I'm tired of dragging it all around with me.

Please.

(lock buzzes)

- Where are you going to stay? - I don't know.

It's only two nights.

There must be someone in the five boroughs who isn't pissed at me.

- How do you feel? - Fine.

Why?

So it went okay?

I'm doing it Saturday.

Jesus, Llewyn, you don't even fucking remember.

Yeah. Boy, I'm sorry. I — I was away.

Well, it seemed like it was a long time, but it was just a couple of days. Yeah.

- Yeah, I'm sorry. - Where were you?

In Chicago.

Why?

(exhales) Nah. Nothing.

Pappi will let you play tomorrow. Pick up a couple bucks.

No, he won't. I was there less than a month ago.

He will. I asked him.

Oh. Thank you. That was very nice of you.

But, um, I'm out. I'm done.

- Going back to the Merchant Marine. - What, that's it?

This could be good for you tomorrow.

Playing the Gaslight for the 400th time? For the fucking basket?

Actually, you'd have to split the basket.

- (chuckles) - There's another act.

But 7he Times is gonna be there.

Oh, The Times.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Thanks for the thought, but, uh, it's not going anywhere.

And I'm tired.

You're tired?

Yeah, I'm so fucking tired.

I thought I just needed a night's sleep, but it's —

it's more than that.

But thank you... for trying.

I love you.

Come on.

Are you shitting me?

In what way, buddy?

Eighty-five dollars to replace a license?

You don't throw out the license. That's the one thing you keep.

I can't — Where am I gonna —

Fuck.

All right, well, let me get this money back then.

I got —

I kept this fucking thing.

I just paid my dues this morning. 148 bucks. There's the receipt.

You don't —

We don't pay dues back. What are you, nuts?

I just paid it this morning. That was four hours ago!

- Yeah? - Come on.

You're telling me that I can't crew the ship, and I can't get this money back?

This was money you owed your union.

You Hugh Davis's kid?

- Yeah. - How's he doing?

He's fucking great. Matter of fact, he's been asking after you.

♪ A hungry feelin' ♪

♪ Came o'er me stealin' ♪

♪ And the mice were squealin' ♪

♪ In my prison cell ♪

(harmonizing) ♪ And the auld triangle ♪

♪ Went jingle jangle ♪

♪ All along the banks ♪

♪ Of the Royal Canal ♪

♪ To begin the mornin' ♪

♪ A screw was bawlin' ♪

Hey.

We're gonna hear you tomorrow.

Yeah, I guess you are.

Well, you're welcome.

♪ (continues)

What do you think of these guys?

♪ All along the banks ♪

♪ Of the Royal Canal ♪

- I like the sweaters. - && (continues)

You know, you wouldn't fucking believe the rent here.

This folk shit, I don't know. (clicks tongue)

Jim and Jean, we get a good crowd. You know why, Llewyn?

Lot of these guys, lot of them come in here catch the act

because they wanna fuck Jean.

That's why they come in.

And some of 'em,

some of these guys, Llewyn, they come in here 'cause they wanna fuck Jim.

(laughing)

They wanna fuck Jim!

Know what I mean?

- You mean they wanna fuck Jim. - Exactly.

Exactly.

Well, me,

I've only fucked Jean.

What?

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. You know.

If you wanna play the Gaslight —

(audience applauding)

- Thanks. Ladies and gentlemen, thanks. - Thanks.

Thank you, Pappi Corsicato.

Please give a great big welcome

to Elizabeth Hobby from Elinora in Arkansas.

- (audience applauding) - WOMAN: Yeah.

Thank you. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you. You're so nice. This is my first show in New York.

How'd you get the gig, Betty?

Um, I'm gonna do this song.

It's like a lot of the songs I do.

It's one I grew up with.

(laughs) Come on, Llewyn. Give me a little credit.

♪ I'm a-goin' away ♪

♪ To leave you, love ♪

♪ I'm going far over the sea ♪

(spits)

♪ But I'll return to you someday ♪

- ♪ So 1 go 10,000 miles ♪ - Where's your hay bale?

Shh!

- && (continues) - Huh? Where's your corncob pipe?

Shh!

Are you wearing gingham panties?

- Shh! - Shh!

Huh? Fuck you, you fucking phony.

- Come on, show us your panties! - MAN: Shut up.

- Show us your panties, Betty. - MAN: That's enough.

Oh, God, I hate fucking folk music.

- Okay, Eddie. We might need Florio. - I fucking hate folk music!

Fuck Florio. Fuck you, Pappi.

Oh!

The show is bullshit.

Four micks and Grandma Moses.

Llewyn, come on in.

Lillian's making her famous tabbouleh salad.

Mitch, I really appreciate this.

After last time, I just can't tell you how sorry I am.

Oh, forget it.

We all get a little emotional over Mike. Comes out in different ways.

He had such life, you know? Such a talent.

It's a big hole. A big hole.

- How long will you be with us? - Just a day or two, if that's okay.

- Just until I can figure out the next thing. - Sure, yeah.

Do you know Arlen and Dodi Gamble?

This is Llewyn Davis, our folk singer friend.

- You're Jim and Jean's friend. - Uh, sort of.

Jim played us a pressing of that record, "Please, Mr. Kennedy."

- It was hysterical. - So funny.

That's gonna be a hit, man. Royalties on that? Whoa, nelly.

I wish I was in your business. I mean, one hit could fix you up.

Uh, yeah.

Llewyn.

- Lillian. - I am so sorry I upset you.

No, no, no, no. You're apologizing to me?

- Yeah. - No.

- (cat meows) - Holy shit.

- Oh! (laughs) - Oh.

- Oh, that's — that's good. You got a new cat. - No.

- No, he came home. - Found his way back.

The doorman heard something scratching yesterday morning.

- Early morning. Wee hours. - Yeah, see?

It's Ulysses.

It's... Ulysses?

Ulysses.

That's its name?

(grunts)

(gasps, clears throat)

(purring)

♪ (guitar)

LLEWYN: ♪ Put the rope around my neck ♪

Hello?

♪ Hang me up so high ♪

♪ Put the rope around my neck ♪

♪ They hung me up so high ♪

- ♪ The last words I heard 'em say ♪ - (meows)

♪ Won't be long now 'fore you die, poor boy ♪

♪ I've been all around this world ♪

♪ So hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ And I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ Hang me, oh, hang me ♪

♪ And I'll be dead and gone ♪

♪ Wouldn't mind the hanging ♪

♪ But the laying in the grave's so long ♪

♪ Poor boy

♪ I've been all around this world ♪

(audience applauding)

(whistling)

You probably heard that one before.

If it was never new, and it never gets old, then it's a folk song.

(audience laughing)

All right, one more before I go.

♪ If had wings ♪

♪ Like Noah's dove ♪

♪ I'd fly up the river ♪

♪ To the one I love ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ Oh, honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ Early one morning ♪

♪ In the drizzling rain ♪

♪ And in my heart ♪

♪ I felt an achin' pain ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ Oh, honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ It won't be long ♪

♪ You'll call my name ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

♪ Oh, honey ♪

♪ Fare, fare thee well ♪

♪ If had wings ♪

♪ Like Noah's dove ♪

♪ I'd fly up the river ♪

♪ To the one I love ♪

♪ Oh, fare thee well ♪

♪ Oh, honey ♪

♪ Fare thee well ♪

That's what I got.

- You and Mikey used to do that song. - Yeah.

Boy, you were some mess last night.

Yeah, sorry, Pappi. I'm an asshole.

I don't give a shit. Your friend is out back.

- My friend? - (tuning)

Said he was a friend of yours. Guy in a suit.

♪ Oh, it's fare thee well ♪

♪ My darling true ♪

♪ I'm leaving in the first hour ♪

♪ Of the morn ♪

♪ (continues, faint)

You a funny boy, huh?

What?

Had to open your big mouth.

That's what I do for a living.

What you do.

Make fun of folks up there?

Oh! Fuck.

You sit there in the audience last night, yelling your crap.

You yell stuff, man. It's a show.

It wasn't your show.

It's not the opera, jackass. It's a fucking basket hou —

- (groans) - We're leaving this fucking cesspool.

You can have it.

What you do.

(Llewyn groans)

My wife up there trying to sing.

(groans)

♪ (continues)

(groaning)

Ow!

(whistles)

(chuckles)

AU revoir.

(tires squealing)

♪ So it's fare thee well ♪

♪ My own true love ,

♪ We'll meet another day, another time ♪

♪ It ain't the leavin' ♪

♪ That's a-grievin' me ♪

♪ But my true love who's bound to stay behind ♪

♪ 1 will tell you of the laughter and of troubles ♪

♪ Be them somebody else's or my ownJ

♪ With my hands in my pocket and my coat collar high ♪

♪ I will travel unnoticed and unknown ♪

♪ So it's fare thee well ♪

♪ My own true love ,

♪ We'll meet another day, another time ♪

♪ It ain't the leavin' that's a-grievin' me ♪

♪ But my true love who's bound to stay behind ♪

♪ (ends)

MAN: ♪ When I go by Baltimore ♪

♪ Leave no carpet on my floor ♪

♪ You come along, follow me ♪

♪ We'll go down to Galilee ♪

♪ Green, green, rocky road ♪

♪ You promenade in green ♪

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love ♪

♪ See that crow up in the sky ♪

♪ He don't walk, he just fly ♪

♪ He don't walk, he don't run ♪

♪ He keep on flappin' to the sun ♪

♪ Callin' green, green, rocky road ♪

♪ You promenade in green ♪

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love ♪

♪ Little Miss Jane, you run to the wall ♪

♪ Don't you stumble, don't you fall ♪

♪ And don't you sing, don't you shout ♪

♪ When I sing, you come runnin' out ♪

♪ Callin' green, green, rocky road ♪

♪ You promenade in green ♪

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love ♪

Guitar.

Yeah.

Uh-huh.

Mmm.

Yeah.

♪ Hooka tooka, soda cracker ♪

♪ Does your mama chew tobacco? ♪

♪ If your mama chews tobacco ♪

♪ Hooka tooka Hooka fooka, soda cracker, yes ♪

♪ Green, green, rocky road ♪

♪ You promenade in green ♪

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love ♪

♪ When I go by Baltimore ♪

♪ Need no carpet on my floor ♪

♪ You come along, follow me ♪

♪ There's a man in Galilee ♪

♪ Callin' green, green, rocky road ♪

♪ You promenade in green ♪

♪ Tell me who you love Tell me who you love JJ,

♪ (ends)

(applause)

(guitar tuning)

(applause continues)