list http://www.spout.com/ Recent community activity around Renaldo and Clara on Spout Copyright 2005-9 Spout, LLC Spout RSS http://www.spout.com/images/SpoutLogoRSS.jpg http://www.spout.com/ 136 30 http://www.spout.com/films/Renaldo_and_Clara/71002/default.aspx Title: Renaldo and Clara
Year: 1978
Director: Bob Dylan
Plot: Bob Dylan made this concert film that chronicles a 1975/1976 performance of his Rolling Thunder Revue. In between songs he, his wife Sara Dylan, along with Joan Baez, Allen Ginsberg, and other counterculture figures perform philosophically based improvisational pieces. During the skits, Dylan plays the ambiguous Renaldo, while Ronnie Hawkins and Ronee Blakely play Dylan and his wife. Songs include "Isis, I Want You," "It Ain't Me Babe," "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," "Hurricane," "Romance in Durango," "One Too Many Mornings," "One More Cup of Coffee," "Sara," "Patty's Gone to Laredo," "Just Like a Woman," "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall," "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowland," "When I Paint My Masterpiece," (Bob Dylan), "Chestnut Mare" (Roger McGuinn), "Diamonds and Rust" (Joan Baez), "Suzanne" (Leonard Cohen), "Need a New Sun Rising" (Ronee Blakely), "Salt Pork West Virginia" (Jack Elliott), "Kaddish" (Allen Ginsberg), "Cucurrucucu Paloma" (Tomas Mendez), and "Time of the Preacher" (Willie Nelson). ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide
Times Tagged: 1
Number of Lists: 1
Number of blog posts: 2
SpoutRating: 2
]]>Thu, 16 Oct 2008 17:00:43 GMTRenaldo and Clara1978Bob Dylan<a href="/players/P____88557/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Bob Dylan</a> made this concert film that chronicles a 1975/1976 performance of his Rolling Thunder Revue. In between songs he, his wife Sara Dylan, along with <a href="/players/P_____3229/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Joan Baez</a>, <a href="/players/P____27041/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Allen Ginsberg</a>, and other counterculture figures perform philosophically based improvisational pieces. During the skits, Dylan plays the ambiguous Renaldo, while Ronnie Hawkins and <a href="/players/P_____6463/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Ronee Blakely</a> play Dylan and his wife. Songs include "Isis, I Want You," "It Ain't Me Babe," "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," "Hurricane," "Romance in Durango," "One Too Many Mornings," "One More Cup of Coffee," "Sara," "Patty's Gone to Laredo," "Just Like a Woman," "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall," "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowland," "When I Paint My Masterpiece," (<a href="/players/P____88557/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Bob Dylan</a>), "Chestnut Mare" (Roger McGuinn), "Diamonds and Rust" (<a href="/players/P_____3229/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Joan Baez</a>), "Suzanne" (<a href="/players/P____85415/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Leonard Cohen</a>), "Need a New Sun Rising" (<a href="/players/P_____6463/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Ronee Blakely</a>), "Salt Pork West Virginia" (Jack Elliott), "Kaddish" (<a href="/players/P____27041/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Allen Ginsberg</a>), "Cucurrucucu Paloma" (Tomas Mendez), and "Time of the Preacher" (<a href="/players/P___104264/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Willie Nelson</a>). ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide1Slightly Tagged (1-5)122http://www.spout.com/ProductImages/s71002.jpghttp://www.spout.com/films/Renaldo_and_Clara/71002/default.aspxFilm http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2008/10/16/36398.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 10/16/2008 1:00:43 PM
Body: It hasn’t been terribly uncommon since the late ’60s for musicians to get behind the camera, whether for a straight concert film, a tour documentary or some kind of silly narrative focused on themselves and their bands. Jerry Garcia co-directed The Grateful Dead, Frank Zappa co-directed 200 Motels, The Beatles collectively co-directed The Magical Mystery Tour and separately John, Paul and Ringo has each taken the helm on a film project, some more artsy (John and Yoko’s cinematic collaborations, like Up Your Legs Forever) or less self-focused (Ringo’s Marc Bolan doc, Born to Boogie) than others. Now it’s a little more common for musicians to become directors of fictional films that aren’t so reflexive. Many don’t even have anything to do with music at all. And many are so awful that it’s safe to say the filmmaker should stick to music making. This week, IFC releases the directorial debut of Madonna (Filth and Wisdom), and Beastie Boy Adam Yauch has a new basketball documentary (Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot) hitting stores, so we’d like to celebrate by looking at some other musicians who turned filmmaker, for better or worse. Musician: Ray Manzarek, keyboardist for The Doors Debut Narrative Feature: Love Her Madly (2000) He and Jim Morrison met in film school, so it isn’t too surprising that Manzarek shot a lot of the tour footage that you find on Doors home videos, nor is it too surprising that he’d have greater aspirations as a director. But he really blew it with his first narrative feature, named for one of his band’s songs, which came with the Skinamax-ready tagline, “At the crossroads of art and obsession…waits murder.” Musician: Prince Debut Narrative Feature: Under the Cherry Moon (1986) Following the success of his acting debut in Purple Rain, Prince became attached to star in this black and white period musical and then ended up replacing Mary Lambert as its director. Unfortunately, the Fellini-influenced musician-turned-filmmaker disappointed, and Under the Cherry Moon bombed at the box office. Yet Prince would still go on to helm the concert film Sign o’ the Times and the even less popular Purple Rain sequel, Graffiti Bridge. Musician: Master P Debut Narrative Feature: I’m Bout It (1997) Rapper Master P is probably the most prolific filmmaker on this list, but he’s possibly also the least deserving of directorial work. Most of his movies have been ranked extremely low by IMDb users, yet they must be somewhat popular, as he’s been able to release nine straight-to-video titles since he first shared the director’s chair with Moon Jones for the semi-autobiographical I’m Bout It. His tenth movie, Internet Dating, hits stores December 30. Musician: Bob Dylan Debut Narrative Feature: Renaldo and Clara (1978) Dylan got his directorial feet wet working with D.A. Pennebaker on the doc Eat the Document, and then with this nearly four-hour surreal pic he pretty much drowned himself as a filmmaker. Not only was it poorly reviewed, it also played to mostly empty theaters, resulting in a recut two-hour version that focused primarily on the film’s musical performances. Currently, there is no cut of the film available to fans, though excerpts can be found on a bonus DVD released with a live CD a few years ago. Musician: Neil Young Debut Narrative Feature: Human Highway (1982) Young’s filmmaking alter-ego, “Bernard Shakey”, started off with the CSNY doc Journey Through the Past and has since also continued making films about his old supergroup, most recently with CSNY Deja Vu. But he’s also let a few narrative films slip through, including this weird edge-of-apocalypse tale co-directed by actor Dean Stockwell and featuring the members of Devo. Considering how easily it could be a cult classic today, it’s a shame the film isn’t available on DVD. Young’s more serious fans, though, at least have his so-so rock opera Greendale to enjoy for now. Musician: Rob Zombie, singer of White Zombie Debut Narrative Feature: House of 1000 Corpses (2003) Exactly what you’d expect from a heavy metal star, Rob Zombie entered filmmaking with a violent exploitation horror film. He followed it with the more accessible and more successful sequel The Devil’s Rejects and the more mainstream Halloween remake. It’s still up in the air if he’s better suited for the concert stage or the director’s chair. Musician: Fred Durst, singer for Limp Bizkit Debut Narrative Feature: The Education of Charlie Banks (2007) Many people would have expected something akin to Zombie’s filmmaking style to also come from rap-rocker Durst, but the former Limp Bizkit frontman surprised audiences at the 2007 Tribeca Film Festival when he premiered this 1970s-set coming-of-age drama. Even more shocking than its genre and tone, though, was that it isn’t actually completely terrible. However, Durst’s sophomore effort, The Longshots, which opened to poor reviews and poor box office, may be evidence that Durst’s future as a filmmaker isn’t as bright as originally thought. Musician: Ice Cube Debut Narrative Feature: The Players Club (1998) He’s a much better actor than some might have expected or may still give him credit for — even if he sometimes appears in crap like Durst’s The Longshots — but Ice Cube’s filmmaking ability leaves much to be desired, as evidenced with this debut and only feature from the former member of rap group N.W.A. It’s not so awful, though, that he shouldn’t keep trying. He’s certainly not the worst rapper-turned-filmmaker (that might be Master P). Musician: David Byrne, singer/guitarist for Talking Heads Debut Narrative Feature: True Stories (1986) When Byrne’s quirky Warner Bros.-distributed film was released to theaters, it somehow failed to connect with either moviegoers or critics. Since then, it has fortunately become a cult hit, possibly because every film featuring John Goodman eventually catches on with cult audiences (Speed Racer may eventually have its day!). Following this fictional effort, Byrne went on to direct a couple of documentaries, including the arty Ile Aiye (The House of Life) about a Brazilian spirit cult. Musician: Frank Sinatra Debut Narrative Feature: None But the Brave (1965) This might be considered more along the lines of an actor-turned-filmmaker effort, but even during the peak of his movie career, even after he won an Oscar, the “Chairman of the Board” was first and foremost a singer. Sinatra had already produced a number of films, including Ocean’s Eleven, but Warner Bros. was still reluctant to give him his first directing gig. And perhaps the studio should have kept him out of the role, since he apparently didn’t even have the decency and respect to call his Japanese actors by their real names (he reportedly called them all “Freddy”). Though the WWII film was a modest hit, ol’ blue eyes never sat in the director’s chair again, but it’s speculated this has more to do with Sinatra’s wanting less responsibility than the studios’ wanting less racism from their filmmakers. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Thu, 16 Oct 2008 17:00:43 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com10/16/2008 1:00:43 PMIt hasn’t been terribly uncommon since the late ’60s for musicians to get behind the camera, whether for a straight concert film, a tour documentary or some kind of silly narrative focused on themselves and their bands. Jerry Garcia co-directed The Grateful Dead, Frank Zappa co-directed 200 Motels, The Beatles collectively co-directed The Magical Mystery Tour and separately John, Paul and Ringo has each taken the helm on a film project, some more artsy (John and Yoko’s cinematic collaborations, like Up Your Legs Forever) or less self-focused (Ringo’s Marc Bolan doc, Born to Boogie) than others. Now it’s a little more common for musicians to become directors of fictional films that aren’t so reflexive. Many don’t even have anything to do with music at all. And many are so awful that it’s safe to say the filmmaker should stick to music making. This week, IFC releases the directorial debut of Madonna (Filth and Wisdom), and Beastie Boy Adam Yauch has a new basketball documentary (Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot) hitting stores, so we’d like to celebrate by looking at some other musicians who turned filmmaker, for better or worse. Musician: Ray Manzarek, keyboardist for The Doors Debut Narrative Feature: Love Her Madly (2000) He and Jim Morrison met in film school, so it isn’t too surprising that Manzarek shot a lot of the tour footage that you find on Doors home videos, nor is it too surprising that he’d have greater aspirations as a director. But he really blew it with his first narrative feature, named for one of his band’s songs, which came with the Skinamax-ready tagline, “At the crossroads of art and obsession…waits murder.” Musician: Prince Debut Narrative Feature: Under the Cherry Moon (1986) Following the success of his acting debut in Purple Rain, Prince became attached to star in this black and white period musical and then ended up replacing Mary Lambert as its director. Unfortunately, the Fellini-influenced musician-turned-filmmaker disappointed, and Under the Cherry Moon bombed at the box office. Yet Prince would still go on to helm the concert film Sign o’ the Times and the even less popular Purple Rain sequel, Graffiti Bridge. Musician: Master P Debut Narrative Feature: I’m Bout It (1997) Rapper Master P is probably the most prolific filmmaker on this list, but he’s possibly also the least deserving of directorial work. Most of his movies have been ranked extremely low by IMDb users, yet they must be somewhat popular, as he’s been able to release nine straight-to-video titles since he first shared the director’s chair with Moon Jones for the semi-autobiographical I’m Bout It. His tenth movie, Internet Dating, hits stores December 30. Musician: Bob Dylan Debut Narrative Feature: Renaldo and Clara (1978) Dylan got his directorial feet wet working with D.A. Pennebaker on the doc Eat the Document, and then with this nearly four-hour surreal pic he pretty much drowned himself as a filmmaker. Not only was it poorly reviewed, it also played to mostly empty theaters, resulting in a recut two-hour version that focused primarily on the film’s musical performances. Currently, there is no cut of the film available to fans, though excerpts can be found on a bonus DVD released with a live CD a few years ago. Musician: Neil Young Debut Narrative Feature: Human Highway (1982) Young’s filmmaking alter-ego, “Bernard Shakey”, started off with the CSNY doc Journey Through the Past and has since also continued making films about his old supergroup, most recently with CSNY Deja Vu. But he’s also let a few narrative films slip through, including this weird edge-of-apocalypse tale co-directed by actor Dean Stockwell and featuring the members of Devo. Considering how easily it could be a cult classic today, it’s a shame the film isn’t available on DVD. Young’s more serious fans, though, at least have his so-so rock opera Greendale to enjoy for now. Musician: Rob Zombie, singer of White Zombie Debut Narrative Feature: House of 1000 Corpses (2003) Exactly what you’d expect from a heavy metal star, Rob Zombie entered filmmaking with a violent exploitation horror film. He followed it with the more accessible and more successful sequel The Devil’s Rejects and the more mainstream Halloween remake. It’s still up in the air if he’s better suited for the concert stage or the director’s chair. Musician: Fred Durst, singer for Limp Bizkit Debut Narrative Feature: The Education of Charlie Banks (2007) Many people would have expected something akin to Zombie’s filmmaking style to also come from rap-rocker Durst, but the former Limp Bizkit frontman surprised audiences at the 2007 Tribeca Film Festival when he premiered this 1970s-set coming-of-age drama. Even more shocking than its genre and tone, though, was that it isn’t actually completely terrible. However, Durst’s sophomore effort, The Longshots, which opened to poor reviews and poor box office, may be evidence that Durst’s future as a filmmaker isn’t as bright as originally thought. Musician: Ice Cube Debut Narrative Feature: The Players Club (1998) He’s a much better actor than some might have expected or may still give him credit for — even if he sometimes appears in crap like Durst’s The Longshots — but Ice Cube’s filmmaking ability leaves much to be desired, as evidenced with this debut and only feature from the former member of rap group N.W.A. It’s not so awful, though, that he shouldn’t keep trying. He’s certainly not the worst rapper-turned-filmmaker (that might be Master P). Musician: David Byrne, singer/guitarist for Talking Heads Debut Narrative Feature: True Stories (1986) When Byrne’s quirky Warner Bros.-distributed film was released to theaters, it somehow failed to connect with either moviegoers or critics. Since then, it has fortunately become a cult hit, possibly because every film featuring John Goodman eventually catches on with cult audiences (Speed Racer may eventually have its day!). Following this fictional effort, Byrne went on to direct a couple of documentaries, including the arty Ile Aiye (The House of Life) about a Brazilian spirit cult. Musician: Frank Sinatra Debut Narrative Feature: None But the Brave (1965) This might be considered more along the lines of an actor-turned-filmmaker effort, but even during the peak of his movie career, even after he won an Oscar, the “Chairman of the Board” was first and foremost a singer. Sinatra had already produced a number of films, including Ocean’s Eleven, but Warner Bros. was still reluctant to give him his first directing gig. And perhaps the studio should have kept him out of the role, since he apparently didn’t even have the decency and respect to call his Japanese actors by their real names (he reportedly called them all “Freddy”). Though the WWII film was a modest hit, ol’ blue eyes never sat in the director’s chair again, but it’s speculated this has more to do with Sinatra’s wanting less responsibility than the studios’ wanting less racism from their filmmakers. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog http://www.spout.com/blogs/tenenbaums/archive/2007/12/2/22451.aspx Post By: Tenenbaums
Post To: Tenenbaums Blog
Post Date: 12/2/2007 1:27:40 AM
Body: Bob Dylan has led an eventful life. He’s redefined the protest song, influenced the Beatles, found God, and won an Oscar. The nation’s reigning poet laureate continues to make great music and tour nearly 50 years after his rise to the top of the folk scene. His story is legendary and inspiring. But is it cinematic?The real-life Dylan is. D.A. Pennebaker’s Don’t Look Back and Martin Scorsese’s No Direction Home are towering documentaries chronicling the 1965 British tour and Dylan’s life up until his motorcycle wreck, respectively. That Dylan is charming, mysterious, and inspiring. He is as close to a musical superhero as anyone has come, including Elvis.But what about the fictional Dylan? Being a natural storyteller, Dylan seemed fit as any to explore himself on a deeper level. For someone who has successfully dodged the press’ attempts to explain his entire being, surely the man himself could provide the best insight.Unfortunately, existing evidence suggests that he cannot. The role-playing portion of his Renaldo and Clara is widely considered a failure. Then there is the shameful vanity project, Masked and Anonymous. Co-written with director Larry Charles, under the not-so-clever pseudonym Sergei Petrov, Dylan plays a version of himself called Jack Fate. Set against a war-torn future America that resembles Havana meshed with the Bronx, the all-star casts speaks incoherent “poetry” while Dylan poker faces through and endless series of meaningless scenes.The film is intended to play out like one of Dylan’s more complex songs, such as “Gates of Eden” or “Desolation Row.” Instead, it is reminiscent of a Dylan version of a Bad Hemingway contest, except it’s written by Dylan.Dylan told Charles not to worry about initial response to the film but to wait for the long-term appreciation. Unless there is a second film decodable with 3-D glasses and playing the audio backwards, that day will never come. Only the most insane Dylan disciples, bereft with multiple mental illnesses, will be able to find value in the effort. The only sliver of redemption is Dylan’s cover of “Dixie,” and it can thankfully be viewed on YouTube, far from the rest of the failure.Only when Dylan himself isn’t involved in the abstraction does the end result work. I’m Not There, the new film from Todd Haynes, is “inspired by the music and many lives of Bob Dylan” and works hard to combine the fantastic and the real. Haynes breaks Dylan’s life into six vignettes played by six different people. The concept is ambitious, but entirely sensible as each distinct chapter is true to its respective Dylan reinvention.There’s a 10-year-old black boy full of tall tales who thinks he’s Woody Guthrie (Marcus Carl Franklin); a young 20something Greenwich Village folk music phenomenon named Jack Rollins (Christian Bale); a poet calling himself Arthur Rimbaud who is under some sort of government subcommittee interrogation (Ben Whishaw); a famous actor who portrayed Rollins in a corny biopic, now witnessing his marriage fall apart (Heath Ledger, whose character Robbie Clark’s personality may have split from or become bonded to the folk hero’s during filming); Jude Quinn, a former folk star, fresh off bewildering his listeners by going electric, on a media-frenzied tour of England (Cate Blanchett); and a middle-aged Billy the Kid, who evaded death and now lives in careful seclusion (Richard Gere). None of them are Dylan, yet they could be no one else.In many moments, the film drags and ventures into Lynchian depths of artistic drudgery. But when it soars, it reaches seemingly unparalleled heights, thanks to the music and personal connections with Dylan lore. Similar to previous experimental Dylan explorations, it is an immense help to know the legend. Fortunately, for the undefined audience of Haynes’ film, the tidbits here are much more accessible: visits to a dying Woody Guthrie in his New Jersey hospital room; Newport Folk Festival lore coming alive as a Pete Seeger stand-in attempts to slice the electric guitars’ power source with an axe; disillusioned festival onlookers precisely quoting Don’t Look Back‘s equally mystified British youth; Quinn passing along his uppers and downers to the Beatles; and the Rolling Thunder Revue inspired landscape of the Gere scenes and his Basement Tapes era Billy.By being aware of the scattered facts we can be in on the joke, and yet it is our supposed knowledge that is being toyed with throughout the film. We don’t know Dylan. We’ve never really known him and that’s how things should be. The same message should also be applied to each viewer: Do we want all of our moves to be scrutinized by the public? How silly can “celebrity” be? How can every man find peace and happiness in the face of constant scrutiny? In the end, the music is the star. Let the man be.Fellini’s self-reflexivity and personal criticism of 8 1/2 is constant throughout the film and receives an exclamation point with a balloon-like Quinn threatening to fly away if not for a rope around his ankle. But it’s Haynes, not Dylan, who makes these private pronouncements on behalf of the artist, adding another curious level to I’m Not There’s mystery. The writer-director has immersed himself in Dylanology, but combines the knowledge with his film-smarts to make the piece work. It takes a real filmmaker like Haynes to do it right and Dylan’s necessary absence lends deeper meaning to the project’s title and success.And yet he is there, if only in spirit and recorded sound. But what a strong, strange presence it is! As a result, the known Dylans connect quickest. Franklin’s Woody encompasses the unbelievable stories Dylan told after his arrival in New York City; Bale’s Rollins perfectly mimes the young Dylan, slowly bouncing with sincerity while singing for justice and equality for all; Whishaw’s quasi-narrator streams familiar quips in defense of himself and his art; and Blanchett plays “Ballad of a Thin Man” with the identical head nods and floppy piano wrists from the famous ’65 footage while confounding reporters to our delight in other scenes.The unknown Dylans (beginning chronologically with Ledger) are the most difficult to follow, yet they encompass his most painful elements. These fractions are a man picking up the pieces from the press’ strangulation and a horrific motorcycle wreck. Temporary hermitage may have helped, but the problems are too large to easily repair. One potential path to healing is religion, and Bale’s reborn Pastor John perfectly hyperbolizes the evangelical Dylan, one of the artist’s most confusing and complex periods. When he sings “Pressing On” to a small rec-room congregation, the pain is all but absent and his faith and joy resonate.Then there are the Gere scenes, the film’s most cryptic, though also deserving of more time. The Rolling Thunder Revue period is a fascinating Dylan tangent of circus, troubadours, whiteface, and collaboration. The setting is there, complete with giraffes and sideshow attractions, but the experiences are not. The closest we get is Jim James, the My Morning Jacket lead singer, dressed in RTR Dylan garb and singing “Goin’ to Acapulco” for a funeral wake. The reclusive Dylan clearly chose to hide here, but the excursion was far too brief and mysterious. Perhaps that’s how it should be. Only Dylan knows, but Haynes convinces us that he too is privy to that knowledge.I’m Not There is a wandering, magical meditation on the most influential musician of our time and will require multiple views to process its plentiful messages. It may be the most intelligent musical ever made and the layered ambiguity in which it is presented finally accomplishes what Dylan himself has yet to do.
]]>Sun, 02 Dec 2007 06:27:40 GMTTenenbaumsTenenbaums Blog12/2/2007 1:27:40 AMBob Dylan has led an eventful life. He&rsquo;s redefined the protest song, influenced the Beatles, found God, and won an Oscar. The nation&rsquo;s reigning poet laureate continues to make great music and tour nearly 50 years after his rise to the top of the folk scene. His story is legendary and inspiring. But is it cinematic?The real-life Dylan is. D.A. Pennebaker&rsquo;s Don&rsquo;t Look Back and Martin Scorsese&rsquo;s No Direction Home are towering documentaries chronicling the 1965 British tour and Dylan&rsquo;s life up until his motorcycle wreck, respectively. That Dylan is charming, mysterious, and inspiring. He is as close to a musical superhero as anyone has come, including Elvis.But what about the fictional Dylan? Being a natural storyteller, Dylan seemed fit as any to explore himself on a deeper level. For someone who has successfully dodged the press&rsquo; attempts to explain his entire being, surely the man himself could provide the best insight.Unfortunately, existing evidence suggests that he cannot. The role-playing portion of his Renaldo and Clara is widely considered a failure. Then there is the shameful vanity project, Masked and Anonymous. Co-written with director Larry Charles, under the not-so-clever pseudonym Sergei Petrov, Dylan plays a version of himself called Jack Fate. Set against a war-torn future America that resembles Havana meshed with the Bronx, the all-star casts speaks incoherent &ldquo;poetry&rdquo; while Dylan poker faces through and endless series of meaningless scenes.The film is intended to play out like one of Dylan&rsquo;s more complex songs, such as &ldquo;Gates of Eden&rdquo; or &ldquo;Desolation Row.&rdquo; Instead, it is reminiscent of a Dylan version of a Bad Hemingway contest, except it&rsquo;s written by Dylan.Dylan told Charles not to worry about initial response to the film but to wait for the long-term appreciation. Unless there is a second film decodable with 3-D glasses and playing the audio backwards, that day will never come. Only the most insane Dylan disciples, bereft with multiple mental illnesses, will be able to find value in the effort. The only sliver of redemption is Dylan&rsquo;s cover of &ldquo;Dixie,&rdquo; and it can thankfully be viewed on YouTube, far from the rest of the failure.Only when Dylan himself isn&rsquo;t involved in the abstraction does the end result work. I&rsquo;m Not There, the new film from Todd Haynes, is &ldquo;inspired by the music and many lives of Bob Dylan&rdquo; and works hard to combine the fantastic and the real. Haynes breaks Dylan&rsquo;s life into six vignettes played by six different people. The concept is ambitious, but entirely sensible as each distinct chapter is true to its respective Dylan reinvention.There&rsquo;s a 10-year-old black boy full of tall tales who thinks he&rsquo;s Woody Guthrie (Marcus Carl Franklin); a young 20something Greenwich Village folk music phenomenon named Jack Rollins (Christian Bale); a poet calling himself Arthur Rimbaud who is under some sort of government subcommittee interrogation (Ben Whishaw); a famous actor who portrayed Rollins in a corny biopic, now witnessing his marriage fall apart (Heath Ledger, whose character Robbie Clark&rsquo;s personality may have split from or become bonded to the folk hero&rsquo;s during filming); Jude Quinn, a former folk star, fresh off bewildering his listeners by going electric, on a media-frenzied tour of England (Cate Blanchett); and a middle-aged Billy the Kid, who evaded death and now lives in careful seclusion (Richard Gere). None of them are Dylan, yet they could be no one else.In many moments, the film drags and ventures into Lynchian depths of artistic drudgery. But when it soars, it reaches seemingly unparalleled heights, thanks to the music and personal connections with Dylan lore. Similar to previous experimental Dylan explorations, it is an immense help to know the legend. Fortunately, for the undefined audience of Haynes&rsquo; film, the tidbits here are much more accessible: visits to a dying Woody Guthrie in his New Jersey hospital room; Newport Folk Festival lore coming alive as a Pete Seeger stand-in attempts to slice the electric guitars&rsquo; power source with an axe; disillusioned festival onlookers precisely quoting Don&rsquo;t Look Back&lsquo;s equally mystified British youth; Quinn passing along his uppers and downers to the Beatles; and the Rolling Thunder Revue inspired landscape of the Gere scenes and his Basement Tapes era Billy.By being aware of the scattered facts we can be in on the joke, and yet it is our supposed knowledge that is being toyed with throughout the film. We don&rsquo;t know Dylan. We&rsquo;ve never really known him and that&rsquo;s how things should be. The same message should also be applied to each viewer: Do we want all of our moves to be scrutinized by the public? How silly can &ldquo;celebrity&rdquo; be? How can every man find peace and happiness in the face of constant scrutiny? In the end, the music is the star. Let the man be.Fellini&rsquo;s self-reflexivity and personal criticism of 8 1/2 is constant throughout the film and receives an exclamation point with a balloon-like Quinn threatening to fly away if not for a rope around his ankle. But it&rsquo;s Haynes, not Dylan, who makes these private pronouncements on behalf of the artist, adding another curious level to I&rsquo;m Not There&rsquo;s mystery. The writer-director has immersed himself in Dylanology, but combines the knowledge with his film-smarts to make the piece work. It takes a real filmmaker like Haynes to do it right and Dylan&rsquo;s necessary absence lends deeper meaning to the project&rsquo;s title and success.And yet he is there, if only in spirit and recorded sound. But what a strong, strange presence it is! As a result, the known Dylans connect quickest. Franklin&rsquo;s Woody encompasses the unbelievable stories Dylan told after his arrival in New York City; Bale&rsquo;s Rollins perfectly mimes the young Dylan, slowly bouncing with sincerity while singing for justice and equality for all; Whishaw&rsquo;s quasi-narrator streams familiar quips in defense of himself and his art; and Blanchett plays &ldquo;Ballad of a Thin Man&rdquo; with the identical head nods and floppy piano wrists from the famous &rsquo;65 footage while confounding reporters to our delight in other scenes.The unknown Dylans (beginning chronologically with Ledger) are the most difficult to follow, yet they encompass his most painful elements. These fractions are a man picking up the pieces from the press&rsquo; strangulation and a horrific motorcycle wreck. Temporary hermitage may have helped, but the problems are too large to easily repair. One potential path to healing is religion, and Bale&rsquo;s reborn Pastor John perfectly hyperbolizes the evangelical Dylan, one of the artist&rsquo;s most confusing and complex periods. When he sings &ldquo;Pressing On&rdquo; to a small rec-room congregation, the pain is all but absent and his faith and joy resonate.Then there are the Gere scenes, the film&rsquo;s most cryptic, though also deserving of more time. The Rolling Thunder Revue period is a fascinating Dylan tangent of circus, troubadours, whiteface, and collaboration. The setting is there, complete with giraffes and sideshow attractions, but the experiences are not. The closest we get is Jim James, the My Morning Jacket lead singer, dressed in RTR Dylan garb and singing &ldquo;Goin&rsquo; to Acapulco&rdquo; for a funeral wake. The reclusive Dylan clearly chose to hide here, but the excursion was far too brief and mysterious. Perhaps that&rsquo;s how it should be. Only Dylan knows, but Haynes convinces us that he too is privy to that knowledge.I&rsquo;m Not There is a wandering, magical meditation on the most influential musician of our time and will require multiple views to process its plentiful messages. It may be the most intelligent musical ever made and the layered ambiguity in which it is presented finally accomplishes what Dylan himself has yet to do. http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/lame/MemberTagFilms.aspxlame
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