I'M NOT THERE                                                                                                  

 

The Essence of Dylan, Distilled and Divided Into Six

Popcorn Reel Movie Review: "I'm Not There"

By Omar P.L. Moore/November 21, 2007

                                 
ChangesTwoDylan, Times Three: The Six Faces Of Bob, as rendered by (from top, clockwise) Marcus Carl Franklin (as Woody), Heath Ledger (as Robbie), Ben Whishaw (as Arthur), Cate Blanchett (as Jude), Christian Bale (as Jack) and Richard Gere (as Billy) in Todd Haynes's "I'm Not There", which opened today in the U.S. and Canada.  (All photos: Jonathan Wenk/The Weinstein Company)

Not many films this year make you marvel at their brilliance, but in November so far there have been two -- "No Country For Old Men" and now "I'm Not There" -- which have.  This great film about the manifestation of the legendary folk singer-activist-poet-preacher Bob Dylan's phases of his life, loves and music are superbly rendered.  Perhaps there are three American directors who could have succeeded with this long-delayed project (approved by Mr. Dylan) -- Jonathan Demme, Gus Van Sant and Todd Haynes -- and it is Mr. Haynes who engineers and successfully executes this hypnotic kaleidoscope, a busy, emblematic feast of meditation and impressionism.

 

Haynes, who directed "Velvet Goldmine", paints a wonderful artistic canvas with "I'm Not There", a cleverly assembled collection of six people, each of whom embodies a dimension of Dylan.  Marcus Carl Franklin plays Woody, a young black kid in the 1950's who claims to be Woody Guthrie, the idol and inspiration of Dylan in his early days.  It is a clever casting move, and while suspension of disbelief may be severely tested, Mr. Franklin does a wonderful job as the self-proclaiming Guthrie.  The casting move is not a gimmick, because it also lends strength to the notion that the blues was as much an influence on Dylan as folk music has been, particularly during the first two decades or so of his career.  (Listen to such Dylan songs as "Like A Rollin' Stone", "Gotta Serve Somebody" and "Summer Days" among others.  The blues are written all over them and other songs, as much as Chuck Berry's rock and roll beats are, most especially on "Summer Days".)  And as a coda: when one considers the fact that black artists (Robert Johnson, etc.) have long been the original architects of American blues music, the casting of Mr. Franklin is even more astute. 

One can safely characterize "I'm Not There" as an effervescent stream of consciousness, with one Dylan blending into the next, without trickery, pretension or conceit.  All the Dylans presented are orchestrated as much by the editing (superbly done by Jay Rabinowitz) and amazing cinematography (Edward Lachman) as by the excellent performances, with Cate Blanchett outstanding as Jude.  Of all the Dylan personas Blanchett resembles the legend the most, both in looks and in mannerisms, especially in one scene where her image is in multiple.  Jude represents a period of Dylan's life in the latter 1960's and early 1970's as a concert musician wrapped up in something of an existential crisis and a shift in music styles, abandoning folk music, much to the consternation of fans and music critics.  That Mr. Lachman chose to shoot Ms. Blanchett's scenes in black and white is a huge asset to the Jude character, as it was for Arthur (Ben Whishaw), the inspiration of Arthur Rimbaud, a fascination of Dylan's for his album Another Side of Bob Dylan, in the mid-1960's.  Arthur presides over "I'm Not There" as a marker, a philosopher and time-keeper, a frame of reference in place to keep the film's diverse personas from spiraling out of control. 

Christian Bale plays Jack, a musician who is imbued by the Dylan of the latter 1960's and 1970's, the Bob Dylan who found his protest voice (listen to Dylan's songs "Hurricane", or "Blowin' In The Wind".)  Bale's performance is transformative; he comfortably switches from playing acid-tongued rebel and rabble-rouser to contemplative Pentecostal minister (which of course Dylan became when he renounced Judaism and converted to Christianity.)  Mr. Haynes dwells little on the religious aspects of Dylan, choosing instead to focus on that particular path in his life as a symbolic resurrection and reinvention, as opposed to an examination of substantive religious evolution.  Bale's Jack is given a documentary-style treatment, which comes off well within the film's free-flowing confines, and Mr. Haynes's "Far From Heaven" alum Julianne Moore has a cameo in the documentary. 

Bale's "Batman" nemesis The Joker, aka Heath Ledger is Robbie, a womanizer (Dylan songs including the more recent "Things Have Changed" -- "feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet") whose marriage is volatile.  Robbie also has two kids.  The Dylan within Robbie is a weak and tormented man, grappling with his fame, torn between loyalty and desire, with a cultivated raw and disrespectful attitude toward the fairer sex, most especially his onscreen wife played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, who as Claire is poignant, passionate and pained.  Mr. Ledger's portrayal has the hardest edge to it and is the most vivid of the six Dylans, whom then culminate in the nearest thing Mr. Haynes's film has to an action hero Dylan, and that's Billy, a old renegade played by Richard Gere.  Billy's Dylan is a traveling man, and he always seeks more from life, even when life has tried to squeeze everything from him.  Bewildered and bedraggled, Billy is a fugitive both from yet trapped in an American yesteryear -- and what he wants most is the company of Henry, his dog, who just can't stay put -- symbolic of the restless rebel himself -- a man never at peace, though truly free to be a chameleon, the kind of chameleon that Miles Davis or Ray Charles were.  Of all the Dylans, Billy is the most serene however, even though he is always activated and engaged, and Mr. Gere gives a quiet, subdued study of Billy. 

Of course, Dylan's music including the film's title song, run throughout Mr. Haynes's film, and they offer both interlude and insight into the Dylan being represented at a particular period of time, making for a fitting aural accompaniment to the film's narrative.  Mr. Haynes, who dazzled and disturbed with such powerful films as "Poison" (his debut feature) and "Safe", has in a short time become one of the most visually attuned American storytellers and social commentators.  Whether it's 1950's Connecticut or 1990's suburbia, or the myriad shifts in the chief subject of this new film, Haynes provokes thought and reflection sometimes in large moments, but many times in larger ones.  Here, he achieves both.

Audiences don't necessarily need to know a great deal about Bob Dylan or be a mega-Dylanite to enjoy and appreciate "I'm Not There", but some may have difficulty tracking the film's shifts, as unsubtle though they may be.  In this way, Mr. Haynes challenges his audience without confounding it.  Furthermore, it is significant that "I'm Not There", one of the year's best films, depicts Bob Dylan as a study in transition, freedom and creative genius, and Mr. Haynes, via his screenplay (written by Mr. Haynes & Oren Moverman), has captured the great artist in all his forms and paths, right up until the haunting, lingering fade out of the man himself.

More than anything, "I'm Not There" proves that Bob Dylan is still here -- and at 66, as alive as ever, and he's not done, not by a long shot.