No Direction Home

Martin Scorcese's documentary on Bob Dylan will be aired on PBS tomorrow and Tuesday nights. This follows the release of the film on DVD last week. I couldn't wait a week, so I bought the DVD. For Dylan fans, it's a must-see. For others, it's still worth the 4-hour viewing time, at the least to see what all the fuss is about. Perhaps the film's strongest point is its extensive concert footage, as well as its numerous interviews with such luminaries as Joan Baez, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Neuwirth, Pete Seeger, and with Dylan himself.

The film focuses entirely on Dylan's life and career up to 1966, the year in which he suffered extensive injuries in a motorcycle crash that temporarily slowed his evolution as a songwriter and performer. Although this time period is probably Dylan at his most talented and prolific, the documentary, in choosing to focus only on these years, doesn't entirely succeed in capturing the full Dylan persona.

But then again, who exactly was Bob Dylan during those years, and who is he today? Joan Baez gives perhaps the most salient answer: "Bob was one of the most complex human beings I had ever met. I think at first I really tried to figure this guy out. And then I gave it up. So I don't know...I don't know what he thought about, all I know is what he gave us".

What he gave us was some of the most exciting and challenging songs of his era. In 1962, Dylan was in Mississippi singing Pawn in the Game, then in '63 he was next to MLK in Washington singing When the Ship Comes In. Then he grew cold of being the protest song spokesman and he moved in a new direction, plugging in the electric guitar and churning out such classic albums as "Highway 61 Revisited" and "Blonde on Blonde". Was this the right decision? I don't know, but what he produced was musically groundbreaking and lyrically stunning, although it was not immediately popular at the time. The documentary contains wonderful footage of Dylan performing "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Maggie's Farm" at the Newport Folk Festival in '65, the songs drowned out in a chorus of boos. Similarly, when Dylan and his band start up an electrified version of Ballad of a Thin Man during a tour of England that year, a heckler yells out, "What happened to Woodie Guthrie, Dylan?". Dylan smiles, turns to his band, and tells them to play it loud. He starts singing, "You know something's happening but you don't know what it is...". Once again Dylan's one step ahead of the crowd.

Thanks for your comments, and for the reminder. 9 p.m. EST, folks.

Thanks for the reminder. Ive been looking forward to this. There was talk of it being in the Nyff, but didn't happen for whatever reason. PBS it is.

Talk about bizarre, this same programme is being shown tonight and tomorrow on BBC2 in the UK, what's the occasion?

Cheers Trev.

Martin Scorsese's excellent 201-minute documentary on the first twenty five years in the life of Bob Dylan, focuses on his artistic development. It traces his evolution from self-taught musician covering the songs written by his idols to his maturation as a poet/songwriter comfortable within several musical idioms.

I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block
Got on stage to sing and play,
Man there said "Come back some other day,
You sound like a hillbilly;
We want folk singers here."
("Talking New York")

Dramatically, the tension is provided by Dylan's efforts to fend off efforts by the media and the masses to pigeonhole him, classify him, package 'n label him. The attack is relentless. Topical singer? Political activist? Protest scribe? Leader of the youth movement? The climax is provided by a concert in which Pete Seeger himself had to be restrained to keep him from cutting an electric cord. Dylan was playing half the songs on electric guitar around that time. The arrogant contempt of folkie purists has to be seen to be believed. Bob Dylan is the greatest poet and singer/songwriter of his generation, one who's always preferred the point of view of the outsider-looking-in, one who's always and rightfully regarded adulation and fame with suspicion.

No Direction Home: Bob Dylan includes never-seen-before footage in pristine condition along with familiar material from docs by directors D.A. Pennebaker and Murray Lerner. Old and new interviews_including excerpts culled from a new 10-hour interview of Dylan by long-time friend Jeff Rosen, are edited masterfully to provide chronological and thematic order. The evolution of the artist is juxtaposed with the major events of the time, particularly those related to the Civil Rights movement and the Cold War. I was a bit surprised Scorsese gives free rein to Joan Baez to express her bitterness about the end of their brief relationship while making no mention of Dylan's marriage to Sara in 1965, which lasted 12 years and produced four children. Just a minor observation. My only issue with the film, really, is the failure to let any single performance play in its entirety (I know the unedited performances are included as extras on the dvd). What's not conveyed via these excerpts is how the precisely observed details in his songs gain power and meaning as they accumulate. A fan who hears a verse can put it in the context of the song as a whole, but I'm afraid a neophyte watching this film wouldn't comprehend the measure of Dylan's genius.

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Originally posted by oscar jubis
Dramatically, the tension is provided by Dylan's efforts to fend off efforts by the media and the masses to pigeonhole him, classify him, package 'n label him. The attack is relentless. Topical singer? Political activist? Protest scribe? Leader of the youth movement? ... Bob Dylan is the greatest poet and singer/songwriter of his generation, one who's always preferred the point of view of the outsider-looking-in, one who's always and rightfully regarded adulation and fame with suspicion.

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This was one of the most intriguing aspects of the film to me. Dylan was a "protest singer" early in his musical career, but he was never particularly political on specific subjects. It was only after the expectations grew too big for him in this area that he moved along musically and artistically. His songs from his brilliant '65 albums, "Highway 61 Revisited" and "Blonde on Blonde" were a far cry from the folk ballads on "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan". The songs were plugged in now, they were stronger in musical intensity, but at the same time they were lighter in the subject matter they took on. You won't find a Masters of War or A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall on these albums; instead you get Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 and Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues, i.e. fun and sarcastic songs with little to no mention of the growing chaos of the mid-60's era. In the documentary, Joan Baez mentioned that this was a time that she and Dylan were moving apart. She wanted to stay in the folk scene and sing songs that could effect change in the world; Dylan wanted no part of this. He was already disappearin' through the smoke rings of his mind at a time when the outside world was a-changin' rapidly.

I agree that the interviews were "edited masterfully to provide chronological and thematic order", but I thought the musical footage was sometimes edited in awkwardly. For instance, in Part 1, there were several scenes of his mid 60's electrical performances interspersed with descriptions of his growing up in Minnesota. I didn't see the relevancy of such juxtapositions, unless it was to show the evolution of the artist.

I also wish the film had done a better job of putting into context just how many great songs Dylan wrote in that time period. It wasn't like he was a one-hit wonder or a half-talented folk singer like Donovan. Check out this list of Dylan songs - it's amazing, many of these were written by the time he was 25:
http://bobdylan.com/songs/

One more thing: the DVDs don't actually contain any more concert footage than what was seen in the film. In fact, when you flip to the individual songs on the DVD, it just skips to that part of the film. Disappointing. But, the 2-disc CDs (sold separately from the DVD film) does contain the full versions of the songs. It's well worth the purchase price in my opinion, just for the live versions of Ballad of a Thin Man and Like a Rolling Stone alone.

Originally posted by JustaFied
He was never particularly political on specific subjects. His songs from his brilliant '65 albums, "Highway 61 Revisited" and "Blonde on Blonde" were a far cry from the folk ballads on "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan".

Right, his subject matter was always quite varied, not particularly political. Even "Freewheeling" features 8 out of 13 songs that have not a single political verse. The five "protest songs" therein are: "Blowin' in the Wind", "Masters of War", "A Hard Rain's", "Oxford Town" and "Talkin' WW III Blues". I've noticed several Dylan songs look back on relationships that have ended.

I agree that the interviews were "edited masterfully to provide chronological and thematic order", but I thought the musical footage was sometimes edited in awkwardly. For instance, in Part 1, there were several scenes of his mid 60's electrical performances interspersed with descriptions of his growing up in Minnesota. I didn't see the relevancy of such juxtapositions, unless it was to show the evolution of the artist.

I hadn't noticed until now that you mention it, JustaFied. Foreshadowing perhaps?

I also wish the film had done a better job of putting into context just how many great songs Dylan wrote in that time period.

Ed Bradley mentioned this during an interview of Dylan for the program 60 Minutes last year, but Scorsese gives no sense of just how prolific the young Dylan was as a songwriter.

the DVDs don't actually contain any more concert footage than what was seen in the film. In fact, when you flip to the individual songs on the DVD, it just skips to that part of the film. Disappointing.

Several sources indicate the dvd set includes 8 songs performed in their entirety. I wtached it on PBS so I don't know firsthand. Please check the extra features on the discs and let me know.

Thanks for the info guys.

I haven't seen the doc but I'm buying the DVD as soon as I can.
It's great to hear 2 real Dylan fans discussing the merits.

Considering it's what, almost 3 hours, I can imagine what Marty put together. That 2-disc "soundtrack" looks pretty sweet.


Off topic a bit:

I just bought Joey Ramone's last record Don't Worry About Me and I cried when I heard his What a Wonderful World.
Louie would have liked it. Greatest cover of that song, bar none.

Come on...crank that up and tell me that Joey wasn't a genius.

Also, the track 1969 is movie-worthy. You could use that in a movie. Just figure out some wicked images/story that would match it and badda-bing: classic stuff.

The other track that I crank up off that LP is Maria Bartaromo. Very Who-ish.

I also went to see Selkirk Manitoba's own The Farrell Brothers with The Deadcats on Thursday night. Mind-blowing rock and roll in the punk vein- Bif Naked was sitting at the next table, actually. She's seen all over Vancouver. She has a studio on the east side I heard. Her tattoos are awesome. I couldn't stop looking at her arms...



But as for Sir Bob, I can't wait to see No Direction.

Busy busy- This is the first festival "marathon" I've done.
I'm on the net now because the 10 am screening for The Oil Factor (Behind the War on Terror) is sold out.
This festival is drawing some serious numbers.

If a 10 A.M. show is sold out, then changes to the schedule are inevitable. Trier's Manderlay starts at 1:40 PM. I figure I'll have to be in line for an hour- even with a pass you can be denied entry.

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Originally posted by oscar jubis
Right, his subject matter was always quite varied, not particularly political. Even "Freewheeling" features 8 out of 13 songs that have not a single political verse. The five "protest songs" therein are: "Blowin' in the Wind", "Masters of War", "A Hard Rain's", "Oxford Town" and "Talkin' WW III Blues". I've noticed several Dylan songs look back on relationships that have ended.

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True, Freewheelin' Bob Dylan isn't entirely a "protest song" album, but five protest songs on that album sure beats the zero found on his first two "electric" albums, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde. That said, Highway 61 remains my favorite Dylan album due to its brilliant wordplay and imagery, as well as the wonderful melodies in its songs.

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Ed Bradley mentioned this during an interview of Dylan for the program 60 Minutes last year, but Scorsese gives no sense of just how prolific the young Dylan was as a songwriter.

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He was both prolific and brilliant (am I overusing that word?) in his songwriting. This wasn't a guy churning out mediocre music.

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Several sources indicate the dvd set includes 8 songs performed in their entirety. I wtached it on PBS so I don't know firsthand. Please check the extra features on the discs and let me know.

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I checked again, and the concert footage "extras" on the DVDs simply skip to the footage shown in the film itself. So you saw the same thing I did.

*Thanks for checking, JustaFied. I'll probably buy the CDs instead.
Favorite album? It's hard to make up my mind. I've probably played Freewheelin', Highway 61 and Blonde the most times. To those 3 add these seven to make a top 10 (no order implied): Bringing It All Back Home, John Wesley Harding, Blood on the Tracks, The Basement Tapes, Love and Theft, Nashville Skyline, and Before the Flood.

*I read an article about Joey's last album months ago, decided to buy it (of course) and never did. I heard his cover of Wonderful World on college radio. Moving no doubt, but not as tearjerkin' as listening to Lennon's Beautiful Boy, in which he tells Sean how much fun it's gonna be to "see you come of age". If I was an actor having to cry on demand, I'd play that song and it's like flicking a switch.

Out on the ocean... sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess we'll both just have to be patient

Cuz it's a long way to go
A hard road to hoe
But in the meantime....



You got it oscar- Lennon was a musical genius.
I read somewhere that Double Fantasy shows John and Yoko were breaking up.

He'd sing "Just Like Starting Over"
She'd sing "I'm Moving On"
He'd sing "Clean-up Time"
She'd sing "Give Me Something That's Not Cold"

We'll never know for sure, but John and Yoko had their tiffs and problems. Remember that "Lost Weekend"?

Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans

NO DIRECTION HOME

Directed by Martin Scorcese (2005)

"If I'd known how bad you'd treat me, honey I never would have come" - Man of Constant Sorrow, traditional

The first time I heard the name Bob Dylan was at a party in Los Angeles in 1962. Someone put on a record of some guy with a twangy voice strapped to a harmonica. He was singing songs about death and dying and I wondered why a young folk singer would be singing songs about dying at age twenty. But it really moved. It didn't just sit there. It got up and moved and I remarked to people at the party that I never heard of this guy but it was really going and I didn't know where it was going to take me. He was singing "I'm a Man of Constant Sorrow" and how could a boy of twenty be a man of constant sorrow, but I felt it deep in my being. Martin Scorcese's documentary No Direction Home brought it all back home and allowed me to relive those heady days when the world seemed ready to turn the page on the fifties fallout shelter mentality and embrace a new morning.

No Direction Home follows the career of Bob Dylan from his childhood in Hibbing, Minnesota to his motorcycle accident in 1966, highlighting the most creative years in his life and offering previously unseen footage of Dylan as a young man. It brings to life the promise of that period that belonged to us and Bobby and Joan Baez, and Pete Seeger and Dave van Ronk, and Woody and Cisco and Leadbelly too and it also brings back the sting of its failure. There is great music in the entire film and it is uplifting and wonderful but may be remembered only for its opening act, the act in which Dylan called us to greatness. He challenged us to wake up and look around and we did and for that brief period, our word was law in the universe. Through it all, he articulated our dreams and our sense of loss at the world that was rightly ours but had been temporarily taken away from us and in the jingle jangle morning we came following him.

When we gathered to protest the war in Vietnam, we could hear him telling us about those that "fasten the triggers for the others to fire", those that "set back and watch when the death count gets higher". We marched to call attention to those that would hide in their mansions "as young people's blood flows out of their bodies and is buried in the mud". He asked, "how many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?" The answer may have been blowin' in the wind but, until then, few had dared to tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it. We knew that the times they were a changin' but we had not seen the direction they were headed in until the civil rights movement exploded and Martin Luther King told us about standing up tall and people dared to talk about peace at a time when our leaders seemed determined to blow us all to smithereens.

During that time when young people began to open themselves up to the possibility of a more meaningful existence, he looked out and saw "ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken, guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children", and he knew that a hard rain was gonna fall and we knew it too but didn't want to believe it. He was the spokesman of a generation. He now says that he never wanted to be the spokesman of a generation, but he was and nothing else seemed to matter. Who cares if Shakespeare wanted to be the soul of the age? He was and that's all that counted. But a hard rain did begin to fall as Dylan had said and claimed John as the first victim, and then Martin, then Bobby and the country began to lose its soul. Dylan followed after that, perhaps a victim of too much, too soon, a young man without a strong sense of self who seized the opportunity to reinvent himself but lost who he was in the process.

Though he gained new converts along the way, he crashed and burned until he finally became a man who would stop at nothing to convince us that it was all a mistake. At first it was the language of rock 'n roll, which at that time meant the language of commercial "success", the language of the top twenty hits, agents and producers and big record sales. And we noticed the hour when his ship came in. We understood but we couldn't relate. We smelled sellout. We felt a sense of loss, though we knew deep down that whatever he touched he would raise to a new level. He did but reached the heights without us. Like A Rolling Stone was a great song, perhaps the greatest rock song that's ever been written, but it wasn't our song. It didn't speak to us. Dylan had been a poet of people who cared, now he reflected a world grown cynical, people who wanted to go it alone, who looked to get in while the getting was good.

He broke new ground and was great at what he did, but if Ghandi had become the greatest university professor India had ever known, we would have looked on in admiration but it would not have been the same Ghandi that inspired us. For me Dylan will always be forever young and when he dies his Country period, his Las Vegas period, his born-again phase, and his other numerous phases will all be forgotten. He will be remembered as a man who challenged the status quo when it was not fashionable to do so, who tried to deny his own greatness but couldn't because we all knew better and when he is buried they will lower him down like a king.

GRADE: A

The title of your post fits. I enjoyed reading it very much.

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Originally posted by oscar jubis
The title of your post fits. I enjoyed reading it very much.

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Thanks very much. The piece just wrote itself. I went along for the ride.

Haven't seen it. Don't have TV. I'm looking forward to it. Don't Look Back is a favorite of mine.

Bob Dylan has always been a matter of taste to many people of my generation. There were many folk singers back in the 1960's: Peter, Paul and Mary; Simon and Garfunkle; Crosby, Stills, and Nash (all did solo stuff); Joan Baez; Joni Mitchell; John Sebastian; Arlo Guthrie (son of Woody, grandfather of the protest song); et al.

My best friend and I used to argue for hours about who was the best. Dylan attracted the rebellious element growing with the dissatisfaction of most American youth by the mid-1960's. I had to admit, Dylan was definitely the poet of our generation. But like many song writers who have musical writing talent but lack performance skills, Dylan had me until he opened his mouth. Then all I could focus on was his horrible voice. His stage presence was even worse. I once watched him fumble and mumble through over an hour on stage before he decided he'd had enough and walked off without so much as an apology. But then I saw Miles Davis and Eric Clapton do the same thing.

Everyone on the above list wrote and performed protest songs against the war in Vietnam, and other government atrocities. Few of us liked LBJ, and none of liked Nixon. He was easy to hate, along with his cronies (sort like Bush, Jr.). To me, Dylan was no better than they were, a point many music historians and critics could argue endlessly about.

Bob Dylan is a favorite with the New York crowd and had a huge following coast to coast. In the history of folk music, he had the greatest impact in terms of how seriously people took his music. However, Dylan's lyrics stand alone, as they spoke to so many young people beginning in the early sixties with how they felt about the changing climate in our society. College Professors in the late 60's were fond of quoting Dylan along with other "beat" poets from the late 50's and early 60's. In that regard, I can relate to a certain level of Schumann's experience. I only wish Dylan had left the singing and performing to someone else, and left his genius for others to portray. Some say that this peculiarity is his charm, but I never got past it. To this day, I cannot stand the sound of his voice. I would rather hear the sound of seagulls. Give me someone like Graham Nash any day. ("Tin soldiers and Nixon coming, we're finally on our own. This summer I hear them calling, four dead in Ohio.") He rallied a generation to bring down a convention in 1968, not Dylan. Him, I could listen to all night.

"Find a song of freedom, buried in the ground. Mother Earth will swallow you. Lay your body down." Graham Nash.

I get your point, but I think Dylan's voice is haunting and inseparable from his songs, like Johnny Cash's from his, only more so. You don't have to have a good singing voice to be a folksinger. It's not about operatic quality (which opera or lieder require) or sexy delivery (which rock or pop may require). It's about authenticity. And he has that. Clearly from films he could be a riveting performer at times. I would always think somebody else singing his songs would water them down. Joan Baez did some of them beautifully, but it sounds plastic compared to him. But I'm not sure all this has to do with the Scorsese documentary compilation exactly. I'd like to go beyond my own personal recollections of Dylan in my life (a slim volume indeed) and see what new information is there.

Thanks for commenting. Many people feel as you do but I'm afraid I don't. I think Chris' comments are more in tune with how I feel. What Dylan's voice lacks in musicality, he more than makes up for with an authenticity and passion that plays over and over in the mind. I'm surprised you didn't address the central theme of the film and of my essay, his altering his persona to achieve a different, and some might argue, a broader appeal.

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Originally posted by Chris Knipp
I get your point, but I think Dylan's voice is haunting and inseparable from his songs, like Johnny Cash's from his, only more so. You don't have to have a good singing voice to be a folksinger. It's not about operatic quality (which opera or lieder require) or sexy delivery (which rock or pop may require). It's about authenticity. And he has that. Clearly from films he could be a riveting performer at times. I would always think somebody else singing his songs would water them down. Joan Baez did some of them beautifully, but it sounds plastic compared to him. But I'm not sure all this has to do with the Scorsese documentary compilation exactly. I'd like to go beyond my own personal recollections of Dylan in my life (a slim volume indeed) and see what new information is there.

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I agree. Although his performances later in his career tended to be lacking, his early concerts were mesmerizing.

Plus I could add that in Pennebaker's Don't Look Back it's clear how much he wanted to charm the audience. He might be a put-down artist in otehr settings then, but on stage he was a little boy needing to be loved.

That voice has been widely immitated. It's been a great influence. Again, vocal perfection is uninmporant outside the classical world.

I'm sorry I haven't yet seen the film -- I don't have cable, and havn't seen the DVD-- or I would be delighted to comment on it. When I can I will, I promise. Dylan is one of those whose influence only grows with time.

MARTIN SCORSESE: NO DIRECTION HOME

A review

Chris Knipp

Portrait of a young genius in the throes of self-creation

This documentary is about a young man from nowhere who knew nothing and was nobody who became the poet of his generation and the spokesman of the rebellious American spirit of the Sixties, the great moment of ferment and excitement and freedom that split apart the twentieth century. Is that important? The question isn't worth asking. One quickly uses up superlatives describing such a film, and its remarkable subject.

What No Direction Home shows us is Robert, Bobby, Zimmerman gradually but visibly turning into Bob Dylan, finding himself, creating himself, becoming himself, finding a platform to stand on and a voice to speak with and an identity to present that was an amalgam of Blues and Country and Protest and Woody Guthrie -- whose avatar and descendant he became -- a young man who looked like a wiry boy (and not a little like Rimbaud) who enrolled in college but didn't attend, read Verlaine and Rimbaud and Baudelaire in apartments and houses where he crashed, stole rare recordings, and then sang and wrote like crazy and began to emerge from the crowd of folksingers and be noticed -- notably by one of twentieth century America's great discoverers of musical talent, John Hammond.

The first album was a bunch of mistakes. He immediately regretted it. He should have used nothing but his own stuff.

But listen to his second album and you still see today what a genius this 20-year-old from Hibbing MN had.

The purity and directness of that voice. The purity of the vision. The verbal imagination. The originality. The irresistible charm even as one was being shocked and shaken. The gifts that this young man had were and are simply and literally stunning. You watch the contemporary audiences and the contemporary press and you think: These people were at the same time? On the same planet? Dylan was a meteor. I think Ginzberg says he had become a shaft of light. Scorsese captures this.

The genius of the documentary is that its art is seamless. Much of it is made up of existing footage, smoothly intercut with commentary by the Dylan of today. This is unobtrusive, and the older Dylan is always apt, just, and wise in his remarks. As you're watching the cocky, angry, sometimes frustrated young man, you're struck by how mellow the current Dylan is, and yet how true he is now to who he was then. Dylan has gone through as many stages and permutations as Miles Davis or Picasso. It's sometimes the mark of a great talent; it's true of Coltrane, whose fans also turned against him as Dylan's did when he went electric. But these are just part of staying fresh and moving forward. They don't mean he rejects or is embarrassed by his earlier self, whom he seems to still be in close touch with today, which makes his commentary the more relevant and enlightening.

Obviously, most of the footage is from elsewhere. Scorsese didn't film the young Bob D. Pennebaker and others did. For this viewer however there seemed to be plenty of new stuff to see, and it is well edited. The good thing about No Direction Home is that the craft is invisible. The performance cuts are fairly well sustained, and the face of Dylan today as commentator comes in unobtrusively.

Hard to describe the excitement, the joy, for an American of roughly the same generation to watch this story unfold. It all came easy then, Dylan says, the verses. It flowed out of him, Joan Baez says. Ah, youth! Ah, genius! You don’t have them often and no one has them long. We’re damned lucky that we still have Dylan today and he’s there to talk sense to us.

The film gives a good depiction of the Baez/Dylan relationship of those days, which went sour on the UK tour; excellent interview with Baez to express her side of things. Again, the mature artist is totally in touch with her young self, though she sees that her tagging along on the UK tour was a painful mistake.

A good depiction also of where Dylan fits -- and refuses to fit -- not only into the molds for him the public and the press created, but into the politics of the time.

The only objection I can see is the way the early electronic concerts are intercut early, without explanation, as a harbinger obviously of how the young folkie public was going to turn against Dylan and boo him and call him "Traitor!" These are popped in initially without explanation, in what is otherwise a logical and chronological presentation. Perhaps on repeated viewings this will make sense; perhaps not. This is the only flaw.

But the electronic music, and the Band as they became who toured with him when he made that change, seems completely inevitable. The folk guitar voice had had its moment. It was time to move on. The only "betrayal" was of cliché and received opinions, which were never what Bob Dylan was about. Baez is eloquent about how Dylan's daily need to change, never to do a song the same way, is a mark of his gifts but made him hell to tour with.

The other talking heads are unusually eloquent, apt, and well chosen.

Even if you don't really care for the music or wouldn't wait in line for a ticket for Metallica or the Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc., music films about them or other pop groups are quite often fun to watch. When it's a significant popular artist like Dylan and the filmmaker is someone of the caliber of Martin Scorsese, it may be considered required viewing.

Seen on the dvd's bought and watched in NYC on New Year's Eve, 2005 in the Village where Bob Dylan first became Bob Dylan.

This film seemed to have moved you almost as much as it did me.

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The folk guitar voice had had its moment. It was time to move on. The only "betrayal" was of cliché and received opinions, which were never what Bob Dylan was about.

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I'm not quite sure what you are getting at here. Are you saying that Dylan was better than all that "folkie" stuff? First of all, he was never a traditionalist in the sense of other folk artists who collected songs and reinterpreted them. He was more in the class of interpretive artists who took a genre and molded it to his own style, I suppose in the same way as Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, and Pete Seeger. So he was not a folk singer as such, though it is one of the most venerable traditions of world music. He was a singer who spoke out against injustice and spoke with passion and eloquence about civil rights and peace and an individual's right to self expression. So why was it "time to move on"? Is the need to speak out limited to only a certain period in one's life?

The betrayal was never one of cliché since there was nothing clichéd about anything Dylan sang or sang about. And I'm not sure what "received opinions" is all about. Dylan was the spokesman for a new generation that was seeking to expand their awareness and express their outrage against war and injustice. His betrayal was felt by those who believed they had found a voice that would not be silenced.

Of course the film moved me. It would move anybody. Now do you want to get into an argument with me about it!?!

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The folk guitar voice had had its moment. It was time to move on. The only "betrayal" was of cliché and received opinions, which were never what Bob Dylan was about..

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That may be confusing. I put “betrayal” in quotes, note. In moving away from acoustic, which was a new direction Dylan personally had to take, he was not betraying anything, but he was rejecting repeating himself. The “folk guitar voice had had its moment” for him. When you ask, “So why was it 'time to move on'? Is the need to speak out limited to only a certain period in one's life?” You tell me. In some cases I guess it is. Dylan identified with topical protest more during the early Sixties, than later. But in his mind he was never quite the protest singer you seem to describe him as. He spoke out against injustice in his songs of that period, but he didn't see that as his role in life. He was not speaking out against injustice in "HIghway 66 Revisited" or "The Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands." He had lots of other ideas and themes. He did not wish to be pigeon-holed.

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The betrayal was never one of cliché since there was nothing clichéd about anything Dylan sang or sang about.

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Here you are simply misreading me. As I pointed out above, my meaning is that he didn't "betray" anything, but he rejected what for him would have been a cliché to go on doing. There was no betrayal of cliché . There was no betrayal at all. And what Dylan rejected in musical style and /or content was not cliché for other people, it's simply that for him to continue doing it would have felt like cliché for him. He was a shape-shifter, and he had to shift shape.

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His betrayal was felt by those who believed they had found a voice that would not be silenced.

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No, I don't think there was really a betrayal. In thinking Dylan had "betrayed" them, a certain public was mistaken, because he had never meant to be their voice in the first place. He was taken to be the poet of his generation and the spokesman of protest and revolt, but he was really not thinking of himself that way. That was pigeon-holing. He moved on. That doesn't mean that protest is cliché or that folksinging is some kind of moldy-fig thing, since as you correctly point out, a lot of original aritsts were folksingers, or could be seen as such, like Woody Guthrie..

I showed the Dylan documentary to Marc and Rebecca tonight so I got another chance to sort out my feelings. Basically, I am too close to it to really be able to look at it objectively. So I have massive conflicts about it. On the one hand, I recognize his genius and the direction he took that revolutionized rock music, setting the trend for the next fifty years. I totally love songs like Visions of Johanna, Like a Rolling Stone, It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry and others. So I think the world gained a lot from his transition but I also think it lost a lot.

It wasn't just a question of being pigeon holed into one genre, it was a total transformation from caring a lot to not caring at all and getting heavily involved in drugs that led to his accident. I don't find it relevant what he has to say about it now. It's like Martin Luther King had lived to 75 and looked back and said I never wanted to be a civil rights leader and that isn't really who I am. That would be outside of my experience as is what Dylan is saying now.

As I said in my initial review, Dylan was great no matter what he did but I for one think he could have made a bigger difference if he had continued to use his voice to help change the direction of the world.

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
But in his mind he was never quite the protest singer you seem to describe him as. He spoke out against injustice in his songs of that period, but he didn't see that as his role in life. He was not speaking out against injustice in "HIghway 66 Revisited" or "The Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands." He had lots of other ideas and themes. He did not wish to be pigeon-holed.

This is precisely the central idea of No Direction Home. The basic theme and the dramatic core of the documentary. The media and his early admirers kept trying to force him in a certain direction (at their most benign: "he could have made a bigger difference", etc.) and the man simply wouldn't give up his freedom of choice. He just wouldn't stay within the confines of labels and definitions others had chosen for him. His most political album, "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", featured 8 songs (out of 13) devoid of a single line that could be interpreted as political by any stretch. Yet some wanted to force him to walk around with PROTEST FOLKSINGER tatooed on his forehead.

Thank you, Oscar. As I suggested in my eulogy/review of the documentary, I see this stubborn resistence to being pigeon-holed as a sign of the largeness of Dylan's genius, hence I compare him to Picasso and Coltrane in that regard, as one who went through many phases or periods in his work.

It may be that popular acceptance of "folksingers" who sang of protest was just peaking when Dylan moved in another direction, and that's why the kids on the UK tour act so het up.

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I don't find it relevant what he has to say about it now. It's like Martin Luther King had lived to 75 and looked back and said I never wanted to be a civil rights leader and that isn't really who I am.

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That is completely unbalanced. However disappointed you are that Dylan took a non-political path, Howard, the truth is his current remarks are very germane, acute, and obviously aware of and in touch with his earlier self. I also noted that in my review. It is clear as Oscar notes commenting on "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan," Dylan's most political songs were merely intense moments, even at first, and were never his single focus overall as a songwriter. It was his 'fate' to be so good at everything he did, then, that people thought he should do it always, but he was moving on.

That is one way of looking at it, now of course the acceptable opinon, regurgitated by Dylan, Scorcese, and the mainstream media. So you and Jubis and Dylan can say whatever you want, for those who were in the middle of the youth revolution in the early 60s, the experience was quite different. He was a galvanizing voice that inspired countless number of young people.

He was booed in London because his fervent supporters and admirers felt he wasn't being true to himself and had sold out to commercial interests. As I have repeatedly said, I don't entirely agree with that point of view and I can see where he may have been vindicated by history, but I can certainly see where they were coming from.

Today, Dylan's statements are simply self serving and disengaged from the reality of who he was and what he contributed in the early 60s. No one could have written Blowin the Wind without feeling a passion for justice very deeply. It was not just an "intense moment", but something that came from his inner core.

Of course, reinventing himself and saying fook you to those who believed in him did not stop with his conversion to rock. He tantalized lovers of country music, then supporters of Las Vegas style shows, then born-again Christians, then Jews who supported Israel. The list goes on and on. To all of those who supported him in each one of those reincarnations, he simply said "fook you" and "moved on".

I'm not denying his genius and if you read what I wrote, you would see that I am a lover of his music (all of it) and a strong supporter.