2000 Man
Like a few others writing here, I am a Dylan fan, so that is bound to color my view. I saw this movie twice in its theatrical release, the first time in San Rafael, CA with about 4 or 5 others in the theatre. The movie affected me deeply--at first, the apocalyptic scenario was intensely disturbing--almost too bleak for me to handle, but then I got into the absurdist flow of the film. This movie ostensibly has a "plot," but it's also plot less at the same time-- the plot may not matter as much as the illusions created along the way. My other most salient memory is of my being moved to tears during Dylan's performance of "Dixie." Such a stark and plaintive rendition of that old song. The musical performances throughout the movie are some of the best performances by Dylan captured on film. This is a great way to see latter-day Dylan (2002 in Canoga Park to be precise), and you can watch the video of "Cold Irons Bound" on youtube to see what I mean. I wish Dylan's people would release a DVD of the songs recorded that day in Canoga Park--as many as 20 songs, according to some accounts. As I write this review, president-elect Trump is waiting in the wings, and I fear the film's apocalyptic tone will be more relevant than ever. If you love Dylan and film as an art form, this movie is definitely worth a look. I've looked many times!
beezus228
I am a HUGE Dylan fan, but this movie was a train wreck. It was so bad I had to watch it until the end. Kept hoping it would get better. It didn't. Even all the great cast members were flat in their roles. None of them could impart any emotion in their characters. Heck, I couldn't tell if it was a drama or a tongue in cheek comedy. The story line was weak and it was hard to figure out why most of the characters were even in the story line. Guess I'm just not that intellectual like those that gave this a high rating. The reason I gave it 2 stars was for the the music in the film. Which there wasn't enough of to keep me happy. If you have nothing better to do, I recommend that you do watch this flick. It's amazingly awful. Just like a train wreck. Sorry Bob, I've been to at least 10 of your concerts and your music has made me cry tears of joy, but acting is not something you were born to do.
MisterWhiplash
Bob Dylan is certainly one of the great songwriters of the second half of the 20th century, or at least the most pleasurably enigmatic. His songs are poetic, but he doesn't consider himself one (or does, depending on what IMDb quote you read that contradicts another), and like Jean-Luc Godard his output from the 1960s is consistently groundbreaking and with a lot that holds up for the right fan. But this goes without saying one thing: he can't write a screenplay for s***. Sorry to curse, but it's apprporiate. The rules that might apply, if any, to screen writing can't be carried over into film-making. This is probably not a new thing to Dylan- he apparently wrote (and directed) a film in the 70s that almost didn't even get released in most sections till it was cut to just the songs- but he doesn't know how to keep from having his characters go on and on and on about this or that, making platitudes for something that is meant to make him (playing a character named Jack Fate, ho-ho) look all mystical and wise or just confused at not responding to anyone. If it is even written- sometimes it looks like the actors might be making it up as they go along- it is one of the worst screenplays of the decade.It goes without saying that it isn't all Dylan's fault. In fact, him and co-writer/director Larry Charles (usually of the much more spot-on Curb Your Enthusiasm, Seinfeld and Borat terrain) do have the occasional scene or line that does work, in its own Dylan-esquire way (which is to say, I can't explain why it works except that a line is read truthfully or doesn't sound completel s****y). Plot: not much, except that Fate is let out of prison early in order to do a benefit concert as the bottom-of-the-barrel pick of John Goodman's indebted promoter and Jessica Lange's shallow TV producer, and is hounded by the press (or rather *a* press member, as a weird amalgam of Dylan's frayed connection with the press via Dude Jeff Bridges), while getting ready for a disaster in the making. This sounds substantial, but it isn't by that much. The compensation is that there are, of course, a lot of Bob Dylan fans out in Hollywood, so there's a lot of guest stars. Val Kilmer mumbles a lot, till making a great point about death and animals, while handling a snake. Giovanni Ribisi plays a quixotic Mexican rebel. Christian Slater's in for a couple of scenes. Don't forget about Like Wilson. And then there's Cheech Marin, and...oh, forget it.Strange thing is, I didn't necessarily outright hate the movie. It's more complicated a reaction than that. Dylan seems to be making his flaws here as unique as he would accomplishments; seeing a scene like the one where he and Charles muck up a perfectly moving scene with a little black girl singing "Times They Are a Changin'" by the whim of a brutal mother making her little girl memorize all Jack Fate songs like a robot by suddenly putting over it a flashback of Fate getting roughed up years before with a mumbling voice-over, couldn't happen in any other movie. And, to be sure, when Dylan and his band plays, sans the incomprehensible Dylan singing, it's still pretty good. But the problem is less outright hatred of the material but disdain for the self-indulgence. You can tell the actors and the people behind the picture think there's grand statements being made behind what looks like a mysterious Dylan-esquire fable about greed and socio-political status in the media and music and culture. But behind it is really pandering to the ideas without questioning them. Maybe there is more than I saw in the material, yet is there enough time during the day to give another viewing to look deeper, unlike Dylan at his best with his songs? I'm not sure.
