"I'm not here"

The above message flashes on the screen during the opening credits of 'I'm Not There," Todd Haynes' pseudo biography of the enigmatic Bob Dylan. I remember that line because for long stretches of this movie I felt:
a) I wish I wasn't here, stuck in this frustrating mess if a movie; and b) Bob Dylan himself is largely absent from what is billed as his life story.

The filmmaker's well-documented gimmick of using six different actors to portray the many sides of Dylan is just that -- a gimmick. [And not even an original one: Todd Solondz thought of it first for his "Palindromes."] From the beginning it alienates the audience from ever engaging in the story, and by the end, you are left thinking you are watching random clips from several different movies.

That is a shame, because at least three of these snippets from the life of someone who sounds alot like Dylan could have turned into a watchable film. I'd love to see more of both Christian Bale and unknown Ben Whishaw; unfortunatley, Haynes wastes these two performances by relegating them to bit parts in their own movie. Bale's scenes are in the context of a faux documentary of the early, folkie Dylan-- never was there a lazier way for a screenwriter to tell a story. Julianne Moore is even more misused as a stand-in for Joan Baez in this lame and uninteresting device. Whishaw has a more difficult task: pretend you are testifying before some sort of Congressional committee as Arthur Rimbaud. (I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to!)

The third story that works is, of course, Cate Blanchett's brilliant star turn. But, in fairness, she is given the most screen time, the most-coherent storyline, and the best lines! Heath Ledger, playing an actor who played Christian Bale's character in a movie version of his life, gets the next most screen time--but who is he and what is his problem, exactly? We never find out. Annoyingly, each of these facets of Dylan is given a different character name, adding needless confusion to an already confusing conceit.

At its best, the movie attempts to delve into the obscure lyrics and contradictory personalities that defined Dylan at various points in his life. One of the best scenes plays like a glorified music video for "Ballad of a Thin Man" (pulling that off in the context of a film is no mean feat, as Julie Taymor recently found out the hard way). Charlotte Gainsbourg and Michelle Williams, as Dylan's wife and one of his unlikely flings, Edie Sedgwick, respectively, make striking impressions. But why bother investing in these characters, when you know the rug is about to be pulled out from under them (and you) soon enough?

The most-tiring episode (for me) was a sentimentalized depiction of Dylan's own myth-making: the one that has him starting out as a travelling folk musician in the tradition of Woody Guthrie. Haynes uses the character of a precocious black kid to personify the formative influences of the artist. Give me a break! Robert Zimmerman was from 'b.f.' Minnesota ... Deal with THAT reality, Haynes! Don't buy into his mythologizing of a childhood that was uniquely, normally -- even boringly --American. A critical look at that reality would make for a compelling sequence, not some too-cute homage to both the folk and blues music that Dylan somehow drew on and assimilated from his most ordinary of upbringings.

The entire enterprise reminds me of another 'ambitious failure' -- an end-of-year movie category I created especially for such a movie -- Steven Shainberg's "Fur: an Imaginary Portrait" (of Diane Arbus). It takes quite a bit of hubris to use the life of a gifted artist as a jumping off point for your own flights of self-important, often delusional, artistry. I don't know the details of Dylan's life and career; what's more, I resent having to research that life to figure out what the hell was going on in this movie! Sure, D.A. Pennebaker filmed a documentary called "Don't Look Back." And Dylan himself had a bit part in a movie called "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid." I didn't see either of them; if you saw them both, then you might appreciate this movie more than I did. Maybe.

As for the sixth actor to portray Dylan, I have nothing bad to say about Richard Gere. He does a nice job with his material. My problem? What the f**k is his material doing in this movie??

[The above review brought to you as a public service, so you won't have to sit through this movie and wonder why I didn't warn you away from it. Consider yourself warned.]