The Idea of Bob Dylan: "I'm Not There"

The six "Bob Dylans" of Todd Haynes "I'm Not There"

And I stood outside myself,
Beyond becoming and perishing,
A something wholly other,
As if I swayed out on the wildest wave alive,
And yet was still . . .

from "The Rose"
Theodore Roethke

About sixty seconds into Todd Haynes' movie "I'm Not There" I made a commitment. I would not try to figure out this movie. I committed myself to taking it in, moment by moment, and to let its stream of images, associations, scenarios, news clips, short stories, dream sequences, shocks, songs, dreamscapes and hallucinatory sequences keep coming at me. I would not analyze, sort out, or question anything in the movie. I kept my commitment. I surrendered to the film.

The more I gave in, the more I felt, to quote Theodore Roethke, "A something wholly other". It was a Dionysian thrill. It was as if "I swayed on the wildest wave alive", a wave of imaginative, adventurous, free wheeling, unorthodox film making. Throughout the movie I was still. I was transfixed. I was overwhelmed. It was almost erotic. I could have watched this movie for four hours. I wasn't ready to stop at two. The movie created world of wildness I did not want to leave.

I had another thought during this movie. I wondered what it would be like if this were the first movie I'd ever seen. I wondered what it would be like if this movie became the standard by which I would view all other movies, if "I'm Not There" was the normal way to make movies and all the other movies were the unusual ones.

How about if I thought that if a movie had a linear plot, that was weird? How about if I thought that the way to make a movie was to have six actors play the main character? How about if I thought movies were an art form that explored characters so complex and enigmatic that it took six actors playing different dimensions of the character to begin to create a portrayal of that character? And how about if I thought the way to make movies was to present a two hour series of multiple styles of photography moving from shot to shot with the logic of dream and memory, somewhat chaotically, and what if I thought the whole idea of filmmaking was to make poetry, and not to tell a story with a strong sense of beginning, middle, and an end?

If "I'm Not There" were to define the making of movies, then our movie going experience would be a most challenging and imaginative experience and we wouldn't always know what happened to us.

It is because "I'm Not There" is so unusual, runs so against the grain of plot driven movies, and works so beautifully in the realm of metaphor and poetry that I loved it.

I never knew what was coming next. Another montage? More surreal images? More anachronisms? What style of photography would I see next? Would there be more news footage from the 1960s? What would I see next and what would the next surprise do to further complicate the idea of Bob Dylan? What would be the next thing to come across the screen that I wouldn't intellectually understand, but that would thrill me with its audacity and imaginative zeal?

This movie is not a biographical portrayal of Bob Dylan. It treats Bob Dylan as a cultural idea, an idea composed of rumors, legends, interviews, gossip, cultural criticism, popular music history, puzzlement, reputation, talent and all the other factors that work together to create what we think of and what we feel when we hear the name "Bob Dylan".

Kelly and I drove nearly an hour to Corvallis to see "I'm Not There". The film left Eugene after a week. Kelly and I made up half the audience watching this afternoon's 3:30 screening. It's not a popular movie. It doesn't do what most movie viewers expect from movies in general and definitely does not do what viewers expect from a "biopic".

That's exactly why the movie gave me goosebumps.

As we left the theater, Kelly said, "I think I want to see that movie about twenty-seven more times."

Me, too.

Maybe after the seventh or eighth viewing I'll make sense out of it and piece together its fractured story lines and understand what it all adds up to as a vision of Bob Dylan.

But for now, I'm not ready to think about this movie in these ways.

I'm just going to keep swaying on the wild wave of this movie. I'll indulge the pure pleasure its copious visual variety and musical wealth afforded me.

And be still.