2019 musical documentary
Rating: 16/20
Plot: Robert Zimmerman embarks on a strange tour in the middle of the 1970's, and Allen Ginsberg tags along.
See, it's a Bob Dylan story, one of many stories, none which are likely true. He claims this tour, and likely therefore this documentary, is "about nothing." He says, "It's just something that happened 40 years ago," before, he claims, he was even born. Maybe he slipped and meant "born again" since this was right before he saw the light and released that holy trinity of Christian rock albums. He also claims that "thought will fuck you up," that you can trust people to tell the truth when they're wearing masks, and some psuedo-psychology mumbo-jumbo about how life isn't about living but about creating yourself. You could use any of that as a launching pad for hypothesizing about what this movie's all about or even what Dylan's all about. He's a chameleon, a charlatan, a medicine man, a shaman, a wizard, a deceiver, and a thief, and you see all these personas on display in this, all these Dylans weaving in and out of each other, ducking and weaving, and ducking and dodging. By the end of this, any Dylanologist might suspect that Martin Scorsese's involvement in this is as manufactured as everything else to do with this film, one that might be closer to a mockumentary than the documentary it claims to be. You get the sense that Dylan took it as an opportunity to be whatever he wanted. Hell, even Joan Baez gets to be Bob Dylan!
One surprising truth of the Rolling Thunder Revue--Bob Dylan did a lot more of the driving that you would have suspected.
A Joan Baez moment is one of the highlights of this documentary, but like everything else, you don't know the legitimacy. Dylan, looking his most forlorn in what isn't a very happy period in his life, is having a one-on-one with Baez. It's sweet and it's sad, and it's probably obvious to people smarter than me that it's complete bullshit, just two icons aware of a camera and what that camera might like to see.
Other great moments: a gal's post-coital (I mean, post-concert) reaction where her face transforms from spiritually stunned to sobbing in just a few seconds. All the Scarlet Rivera backstory and anecdotes, most likely total bullshit, not that that's going to stop me from wanting to go back in time and have her threaten me with a knife after I awkwardly come onto her. Allen Ginsberg reads some poetry, and that's always worth watching, but what a hoot is is to watch him bust a move on the dance floor. Or how about Ginsberg and Dylan at Kerouac's grave, reading poetry and getting so so deep like beatniks and guys wearing hats with ridiculous flowers can get sometimes. Ramblin' Jack, Sam Shepherd, Ronnie Hawkins, and so many others. A cast of characters who all get their moments.
Even Sharon Stone! No, I didn't quite buy Sharon Stone's story here, figured she was a stand-in for something else. But that manufactured myth has some serious layers, bits-within-bits about KISS inspiration and Stone being the inspiration for a song that was released ten years before Dylan met her when he really never met her at all. The invented filmmaker, the politician who was supposedly Jimmy Carter's pal but who was actually just a character from another film. Oh, shenanigans! I'm ashamed that I bought any of it at all.
This is a musical goldmine for any Dylan fan, probably what might distract anybody from seeing through some of the games. In his career, the mid-70s is yet another period of fervency as he's performing live again after eight years of not touring following a (likely fake) motorcycle accident. He's electric, even when he's accompanying himself with the acoustic guitar, and that assembled band knows how to cook! I would have likely been stunned spiritually and sobbing just like that woman. He's painted his face, he's setting fire to audiences, and he's (mostly) having a blast. The rehearsal stuff is great as the band is trying to pound out these numbers and keep up with his screaming of the lyrics. There are too many live highlights to mention, but I'll mention "Isis" anyway since that's always been an enigmatic personal favorite of mine. And the "Ira Hayes" song sung amidst an audience of Native Americans and all the "Hurricane" stuff shows he still gave a shit about stuff. Joni Mitchell even stops by to teach him a song.
This is a lot about Dylan, but I wonder what it's saying about America. There's a lot of patriotic bicentennial goofballery, flag-waving and guys hawking their "new national anthems" in the shadows of the Twin Towers. But really, this is about Dylan creating himself. Starting in Plymouth, fittingly, this is about searching, rediscovering America, an exploration, rock 'n' roll as some sort of medicine, maturation, bringing salvation, redemption. And, as older Dylan tells us as he thinks back at his younger self, it's about nothing. It is "something that happened," and I'm thrilled that Scorsese or whoever was really involved made it happen on my television screen.
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