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In the opening scene of Orson Welles classic Citizen Kane, the audience is given the rare opportunity to go beyond a  "No Trespassing" sign outside of Charles Foster Kane's mansion to witness his final word, "Rosebud," before he dies.

Todd Hayne's independent, abstract, interpretive film about Bob Dylan attempts to go beyond the "No Trespassing" sign in search of a core identity, however, the subject remains a mystery. Not that the journey is without rewards; it's just not clear if Haynes is attempting to help us discover something about the man that we didn't already know, or only allowing insiders to see the vague sub-referenced clues that are scattered throughout the film. Does this serve to reveal anything new about Dylan? Will the abstract method of the narrative enlighten anyone--fan or novice--into the character of one of the great artists of our time?  The intention is not clear but the film does manage to provide an interpretation of Dylan's journey cloaked in myth and chaotic fact. Finally, it is not accuracy that Haynes' seeks, but a pilgrimage into the eye of the storm that is Dylan-The Mystery Tramp.  In that sense, Haynes has made this film as much for the artist as he has for the audience. And therein lies the flaw. In seeking to emulate the artist's vision of his work, the impact of the theme of the film escapes both director and audience. However, where the film works, it works well. This is found in the first three strands of story, which comes the closest to succeeding in adding dimension to the subject.

Told in five overlapping chapters with different actors playing a Dylan-like character in each sequence, the stories cover the major areas of impact and influence Dylan ushered in since he first came on the scene in 1961; from a baby-faced troubadour to a prophetic protest singer, from a cynical folk rock myth buster to a movie star iconoclast. The stories attempt to portray, with varied degrees of success, the many reinventions of Dylan's public persona during his long and durable career. The uniqueness of the casting is a strength here. The choice of the young African-American child actor, Marcus Carl Franklin, playing Woody is a stroke of brilliance. With this character, a tribute is paid to Dylan's blues/gospel roots and to Woody Guthrie.  Central to this story is young Woody's struggle for identity as he attempts to break out of the Guthrie imitation mode. The stories that are told by the Woody character are based on the fabrications Dylan told when he first arrived in Greenwich Village in 1960. The young actor is stunning in his naturalness, his conviction and his musical talent.

The second narrative is the story of Jack Rollins, the most important folk singer of his era.  Dylan's legendary folk songs, "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll" and "The Times They Are A Changin'" are effectively used during this sequence. During press conferences he is awkward and confused. Christian Bale's performance manages to convey the reticence of a young man thrown into the spotlight. Eventually he drops out and emerges later in the film as a Pentecostal preacher in a thinly veiled portrayal of Dylan's 1979 conversion to Christianity. Once again, Dylan's own words are used through the Jack Rollin's character when he preaches a brief sermon for a small congregation.  A musical high point is the searing version of his forgotten classic, "Pressing On" from the Saved album.

Interspersed throughout these chapters is an interview with a character named Arthur(as in Rimbaud).   The actor, Ben Whishaw, manages to accurately portray Dylan's characteristic evasive and sometimes obtuse interview style.  Most of this is taken from the Nat Hentoff interview which appearedin Playboy magazine in the mid-60's.

The centerpoint of the film is the recreation of the black and white handheld camera work of D.A. Pennabacker's 1967 documentary, Don't Look Back, the brilliant film of Dylan's 1964 acoustic tour of England. However, this story focuses instead on the 1965 Newport Folk Festival and the subsequent tour of England when he introduced folk-rock to his audience, a move that changed the face of rock and folk music. In one of the strongest performances of her career, Cate Blanchett delivers Dylan's 1965 cynical rebel with depth, insight and pathos. She has his moves as he performs "Maggie's Farm" on stage at The Newport Folk Festival.  It becomes clear that this performance is a work of internal grace that emerges from some hard work on the part of the actor. What could have been a cheap imitation at a period when Dylan would have been easy to mimic, Blanchett turns in a performance that mines the depth of Dylan's frustration, fatigue, cynicism, and wonder at the sound he is in the midst of discovering. In so doing, Blanchett has created a performance that comes the closest to revealing a deeper dimension of Dylan than portrayed at any other point in the film; the fear beneath the cynical pretensions. In her last scene, Blanchett looks at the camera and says, "I'm not a folksinger," and in that moment, with a slight grin, she is able, through subtle facial expressions, to show both the enigma and the person beneath the mask who emanates sadness, fear and courage.  It is a brilliant turn that demonstrates how all of the experimental cinematic exploration can't replace a single glance from one of the great living film actresses of our time. It is Blanchett alone who succeeds in breaking beneath Dylan's tough, jokerman veneer to reveal his vulnerability.

The final two story lines are problematic and flawed.  In the first, the Dylan character is portrayed as a movie star named Robbie, who once played the life of protest singer Jack Rollins.  In the second, for some unexplained reason, Dylan, as played by Richard Gere, is a part of a western story involving a town that is being sold in order to make way for a railroad.

The problem with these two story lines is they cause the narrative flow to collapse under the weight of the non-linear structure. Dylan fans know that he had personal problems that led to the break up of his marriage. They can recognize the careful camera poses that resemble the album cover to Blood On The Tracks---especially the haircut and the shades.  The actress playing Robbie's wife, Charlotte Gainsbourgm,  is consigned to staring meaningfully into space. The problem is while the other story lines relate to Dylan's music, this story leads us nowhere. Heath Ledger does an effective job playing this role but the material is so thin, the actor is left empty-handed.

The last story line has Dylan in what could've been one of his own characterizations as a western rancher who's about to lose his land. In the town of Riddleville, an ancient Pat Garrett is selling off the town while a Fellini-like carnival posses for photographs showing another reference to yet another album cover, The Basement Tapes.  Richard Gere rides through a decaying western town, wearing a mask as he confronts the coming sale of the town, then he rides a freight train into the sunset. This is all picturesque and atmospheric, but contributes little to the subtext we've been asked to journey through for two hours.

What makes this viewer flinch is the missed opportunity to provide a counterpoint between the chaotic '65  tour of England and the serene healing days of The Basement Tapes/Woodstock era, which brought a much needed renewal of Dylan's roots. This period forshadowed his influence on the direction of country,roots, Americana and blues-laced music for the next thirty years.  In fact, the groundwork laid down during those days of his recovery has proved to have been as influential as his move from folk to electric rock music.  This is not well known and a clearer story could have shed a new light on Dylan's work.  Instead, we're given a meaningless fable full of style but low on substance.

When the film comes to an end, the real Bob Dylan appears in a grainy close-up dancing along his familiar harmonica with his eyes closed.  As one of his best songs once said, "Nothing is revealed."   As I left the theater, I couldn't help but feel, with just a few better choices, this could have been a great work worthy of Dylan's best songs.  Much of the film is engaging, inventive and a pleasure to watch, but critical points the script remains underdeveloped.  The most care and effective work was put into the Jude Quinn scenes with Cate Blanchett, who should receive nods for her performance this award season.

After we spend two hours-plus exploring the other side of the 'No Trespassing' sign what do we find?  Beneath the chase for identity, the journey into the stages of Dylan's musical development, the survey of his personal life and the western parable, there may be yet another mask directing the audience closer to the legend, only to find the Mystery Tramp is laughing behind his shades and his eyes are closed.

Terry Roland  12/28/2007