Suzanne Vega Has Her Own Issues With 'Llewyn Davis' The irate folkies - a group that actually exists - will be paying close attention to how "Inside Llewyn Davis" fares at the Golden Globes on Sunday, and on the awards circuit beyond. "My hunch is that if the film gets a bunch of Oscar noms - especially if it gets a nom for best picture - the dust-up won't go away," wrote Christine Lavin, the singer-songwriter who has been on a mission to clarify some things about what she believes the Coen brothers" portrait of the 1960s Greenwich Village folk scene got wrong. "Maybe it will become a haboob?" she added. Love that word. The musician Suzanne Vega was too young to be a part of the scene in the "60s, but she caught up a few years later. "I hung out in the Village from 1976 to 1985 as part of the folk scene pretty constantly and knew Dave Van Ronk," an inspiration for the movie, "once I made it over to Folk City," she wrote in an email. "I'm sure the scene had changed by the time I got there, but if you read "Chronicles" by Bob Dylan, not by much." Ms. Vega, the accomplished songwriter and occasional blogger, saw "Inside Llewyn Davis" last week, and while she considers herself a Coens fan, this was not one of her favorites. "I feel they took a vibrant, crackling, competitive, romantic, communal, crazy, drunken, brawling scene and crumpled it into a slow brown sad movie," she wrote. Like Ms. Lavin, she felt that it did not capture Van Ronk, the musician and bristling, charismatic idea-man who died in 2002 and whose music and memoir, "Mayor of Macdougal Street," was fodder for the movie. Besides a political dimension - the civil rights fight compelled the era's artists as much as their own drive - the other thing missing from the film, Ms. Vega wrote, was optimism. "The possibility that something will happen - whether it's that you'll run into someone you know when you go in for a drink, or that you'll fall in love, or someone will love your new song, or you'll get the Wednesday-night opening slot, or the Saturday headlining gig: that keeps you going back for years," she said. "Every time I went into the Bitter End in the "70s or Folk City in the "80s, it was with some kind of expectation. Those top notes are missing from this movie. She added: "Without the unrelenting faith that something is going to happen - it's a crazy belief - all the despair just drags along with nothing to contrast it to. If the scene had been as brown and sad as all that, why would anybody be drawn to it? Dylan would have gone somewhere else. We all would have. Someplace with some energy. "It's a haunting movie," she concluded, "but mostly because of what's missing." But, she added, her husband, Paul L. Mills, a lawyer and poet who performed at the Bitter End under the name Poez, loved it.