The Dylan Flick

Posted: December 27th, 2024 | Filed under: Book Review, Cinema, Music, Personalities | 6 Comments »

A new film has just dropped, another attempt to pin down the unpindownable.

It’s about Bob Dylan. The early years.

It’s called “A Complete Unknown” and  stars Timothée Chalamet, who it is said spent a half decade learning how to mime the Unwashed Phenomenon’s affectations, speak and sing with the Original Vagabond’s inflections.

Whatever.

This is not a review of that film.

Haven’t seen it.

A goodly number of my pals, long term Dylan acolytes like myself, saw it first day.

I understand the obsession.

For several reasons, I chose not to. I’m sure I’ll get around to viewing it. Though I may wait until it’s streaming.

The main reason: What’s the point?

Dylan, as important as any who has ever created in the English language, or any other actually, remains a complete unknown. You know, like the movie title.

What possibly could a biopic like this, about someone still living no less, tell us?

Such endeavors seem fruitless and pointless to me.

If paying attention, we know them as well as they can be known.

I feel compelled to inquire, what do they add to our understanding of the famous?

There are lots of interviews, plenty of footage, performance and otherwise.

So too with Dylan.

Quick history of my thing with Bob Dylan.

In ’63, as I was pulling my foot locker down the hall of my college dorm my first day away from home, Dylan’s “Freewheelin'” album was playing in the adjoining room.

I’m the guy who shlepped those first two albums home at Christmas break, sat my friends down in front of the stereo, and ordered them to shut up and listen to the lyrics.

I saw a show of that mid 60s tour, when Dylan played an acoustic set, then an electric one, during which many booed. Vociferously. One naysayer screamed out, “We want the real Dylan.” To which he responded, “Kiss my ass.”

I wandered through those years after his motorcycle accident, when we didn’t know if he was dead, or what?

I saw a show of the reunion tour with the Band, when he/ they were heralded for all some had booed them for years before.

To this day, I’ll invoke a Dylan lyric lurking in the smoke rings of my mind. Way more than the oft quoted Willie the Shakes.

I saw Pennebaker’s “Don’t Look Back” I’m so sure at the first available opportunity in ’68.

Heard Dylan in concert many times over, etc, etc, etc.

I’m a fan. I believe Bob Dylan to be “important.” Transformative.

But he is elusive.

Universities have courses on him.

There are books and books and books attempting to decipher “the real Bob Dylan.”

He remains an enigma a human riddle.

He contains multitudes.

Some of which we can discern, many of which we cannot.

So, I haven’t seen this latest attempt at explanation.

But, intrigued, I have obsessively watched a couple of other films, which do, one guy’s opinion, provide legitimate insight.  Both available at Amazon Prime.

Martin Scorsese’s documentary “No Direction Home.”

Which includes lots of live musical numbers, clips from press conferences when the young, prickly and combative Bob did a bob and weave with misunderstanding media types. There’s way more cinematic documentation of Dylan behind the scenes than one might expect.

The movie also contains much of a long interview session with the artist, when at times he appears frank . . .

. . . But One Never Knows when he’s fibbing.

It’s part of the fascination.

There are many who believe he never tells the truth except in song.

Legit take, that.

I also watched Todd Haynes’ marvelous 2007 film, “I’m Not There.”

It is brilliant conceptually.

Six or seven actors play different Dylans. Christian Bale. Richard Gere. Heath Ledger. Others.

Most effectively, Cate Blanchett as that pissy Dylan of the early electric era of change.

The point of that movie is the one that resonates.

Every time we think we can nail Dylan down, he’s not there.

I understand why we keep trying.

But I believe we’ll never catch him.

For years, he closed his shows with “It Ain’t Me Babe.”

Maybe we should listen.

— c d kaplan

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