Dont Look Back

Filmed in 1965, this documentary follows Dylan and his entourage on his British tour. There are some concert scenes that give a feel for his performance persona. There are scenes of his manager and British agents making deals for him to appear at various venues. But most of the film concerns Dylan backstage.

Shot in black and white, the film shows Dylan to be very mercurial. He is at times charming, communicative and seemingly open about his feelings. Other times--in fact most of the time--he is confrontational, condescending and self-contradictory. He is about 24 years old and these scenes remind me of discussions I had when I was that age with other college students. His arguments are circular, as if he enjoys arguing more than he enjoys communicating.

He embraces the poet's privilege of not explaining the meaning of his lyrics (which is fine). One gets the feeling that he is tired of dealing with the media and others who want to pick his brain. Why did he give them audience, then? On the other hand, he is generous with fans who have no questions for him, merely seeking his presence or a glimpse of the man.

While some of his songs do seem somewhat shallow, others are undeniably deep with meaning about issues that are very timely. Regardless, his songs often have a hypnotic effect, with their sing-song cadences. This film might raise more questions than it answers, but it is fun to watch. The presence of Joan Baez is a plus. Her voice was always special. We don't see much of her, but enough to see her react to teasing and to make silly faces in return.

Dylan's songs feel mostly declarative. They are assertions and observations. They usually don't extract the emotional responses of, say, Joni Mitchell, who invites listeners to her inner world. Dylan asks his listeners to regard the outside world with him.

Do you know that feeling when a song captures you completely? One minute there's all these thoughts running around in your head and the next minute someone switches the radio on and it's kinda like it screams, STOP!

You can feel it. You let your whole being be absorbed by it. You're on a high. Then you catch your breath . . .

Bob Dylan, as depicted in Don't Look Back, is the kind of megastar that can grip you emotionally and intellectually. While their neighbours joined screaming mobs that bayed at the Beatles, Bob Dylan fans listen in rapt silence, taking in every word.

"How many times must the cannon balls fly - Before they're forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind."

He inhabits a hallowed quality. Anti-war protesters, educated and disenchanted youth, all see him as their hero. An emblem of hope. Dylan inspired people. Made them feel they could make a difference. Somehow make it a better world.

It was also the Swinging Sixties. Music videos hadn't been invented. In cinema, TV commercials director Richard Lester had kicked off a style of pop musical with the Beatles in A Hard Day's Night (1964). Andy Warhol projected live footage of a band to heighten a live performance (The Velvet Underground and Nico, 1966). Whereas for the opening scene of D.A. Pennebaker's film, Don't Look Back, a deadpan Dylan simply discards one large white card after another. They contain random words from the overlaid soundtrack song, Subterranean Homesick Blues.

That scene has been copied and parodied. Like the kiss-on-the-beach-at-the-edge-of-the-waves in From Here To Eternity, far more people know of and recognise the scene than have ever seen the film. Words are deliberately misspelt. Alan Ginsberg haunts the background as if he's wandered in from another film lot. The scene became one of the first 'music videos'. And the film became one of the early examples of fly-on-the-wall cinema.

Don't Look Back is one of the important movies of the decade for its development of cinema verité, a documentary style with many offshoots but at that point made possible with the new lightweight cameras and sound recorders. These were less intrusive and meant that events could be recorded in a way less staged, the filmmakers having opportunity to follow subjects down corridors or seemingly eavesdrop on conversations.

Don't Look Back follows Bob Dylan through his most iconic phase, dark glasses and leather jacket, on his 1965 UK tour at the height of his fame. (He is about to dispense with a rustic folksy style and upset fans by embracing rock and roll and electric guitars.) It is the Bob Dylan so cryptically emulated by Cate Blanchett in I'm Not There. This is the legend. And the man who became a legend in his own lifetime, constantly reinventing his poetry. He would one day be awarded a special Pulitzer Prize for his "profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power." Not to mention an honorary degree from the prestigious St Andrews University in Scotland.

The follow-the-tour format is a little like In Bed With Madonna. But the immediacy of the film foreshadow movies like Control. Stark black and white photography and a personality that dominates the screen without even trying. Joan Baez (who was near the end of an affair with Dylan) is singing in a hotel room. Dylan looks up with rapt attention (and obvious admiration) for the shy young folk singer Donovan. And clips from his sell-out Albert Hall concert. Throughout – and in sharp contrast to almost everyone else captured in all their bygone sixties primness – Dylan still looks cool and self-assured in his own skin even by 21st century standards. Somehow his image hasn't aged.

There was something almost mystical about Dylan at the time. Press conferences in the film (that would also be re-staged later in I'm Not There) show journalists nonplussed by the youngsters response. News stories marvel at how thousands of well-behaved youngsters are packing concert halls – in essence to listen to several hours of one man's poetry. His lyrics, ranging from poignant stories to stream-of-consciousness collections, were emotionally resonant with metaphors and phrases that could be appropriated to every person's private suffering, every cry of pain behind anti-establishment (and particularly anti-war) sentiments. Dylan never claimed to be any other than a poet and a guitarist. "I got nothing to say about these things I write – I just write them . . . I don't write them for any reason. There's no message." His almost angry 1960s disclaimer in the film will still be uttered almost 40 years later at great length in his Chronicles biography. No-one wanted to believe he was only interested in writing poetry. But his openness and honesty in facing down critics is disarming.

For non-music fans and people not specifically interested in the period, the film has slightly less to offer. Poor definition on many hand-held shots gives a lack of visual elegance. The lack of any voice-over means the viewer has to work out many details themselves. And, while it is a remarkable and very vibrant portrait of an esteemed artists at one of the most famous and influential periods of his career, there are maybe too few songs for fans.

Dylan would go on to win Grammy, Golden Globe and Academy Awards and receive several Nobel Prize nominations for literature. The film stops long before he had achieved such mainstream critical acclaim. It never features him singing the credits song, Subterranean Homesick Blues, or the song from which the title is taken. Ironically, it looks back to a period he himself had abandoned by the time the film was released.

Perhaps I'm biased -- Bob Dylan is quite possibly my favourite performing artist in the world. This very cinema-verite look at Dylan's 1965 tour of England offers both a serious justification of the man's genius and a very unflattering look at the costs and results of that genius. This was clearly not a happy time for Dylan, who rushes through most of the songs included here like a man who clearly wishes he were somewhere else. Not that the performances are poor (quite the contrary) but the heart and sincerity are quite obviously missing (note how "The Times they are a-Changin'" speeds up gradually but unmistakably throughout the film). The backstage material (the bulk of the film) shows Dylan being generally nasty to everyone around him, including Joan Baez (well, he's not nasty precisely, but he never really even acknowledges her presence), a newspaper reporter (the "science student") and basically anyone he comes in contact with.

In other words, this is not a portrait of the artist that I happen to like, but it is the truth (or at least it was at that time). In addition, Albert Grossman, Dylan's manager, is shown in possibly the least flattering light possible. A bonus is that the film begins with the brilliant 1965 promotional clip for "Subterranean Homesick Blues", and watch for the scene in a hotel room when Dylan and Bob Neuwirth sing "Lost Highway" - it's worth the price of admission.

The movie follows Dylan on tour throughout England. The beginning of the movie starts with a Dylan song in the background and a famous cue-card scene depicting the words of the song. Here we get an interesting visual and are drawn into what is going on in the film. We then travel with Dylan on the road and in the studio, meeting with fans and other musicians to make the full spectrum of what he does as an artist. We are able to understand all sides of the music for him and by seeing him interact with his fans and make music we see a side of the artist that most never get to fully understand. The movie is never has a true time line, it is a stream of images from one concert to the next. Because of this, we are able to see Dylan as a person who stays the same no matter where he is and that what he is truly about is the music and performing.

The whole movie focuses on Dylan and has a constant influx of other characters. We see the press, fans, his manager, and other business people. Throughout the movie, we never really know whom those people are, making the movie completely about Bob Dylan and his life. These other people are merely characters in his life, but he is the real important person. D.A. Pennebaker, the documentarian, is never a character either, showing that the movie is all about Dylan and not about the other people around. This allows for a deeper understanding of the singer and lets the audience see who he is for themselves, without riddling their opinion with interviews with other people.

D.A. Pennebaker has an artistic flair for music and introducing people to the deeper meaning in it. He has done other works about John Lennon, Jerry Lewis, and Jimi Hendrix. This shows that he understands the music genre and it is a place that he has delved many times. He is known for having the direct cinema style to his work. He just allows the camera to roll and it is a natural and true look at what is going on with the people he is documenting. The whole movie is an easy flow of life, combining scenes of travel and life on the road with songs of Dylan's to capture to true mood of the tour. The music is key because to truly understand Bob Dylan, you must understand the music. He writes very personal music and by using that in the documentary we are able to gain a better understanding of the man himself. Even those that go to see him understand that his music is important and something that is changing people and the way people think. So to have all the music be Dylan's allows the viewer to understand both Dylan and the impact that he had on the people during his tour. The editing of the film is consistent with the direct cinema style. There are no real cut aways or a narrator; rather there are sequences of people talking all together that then go into Dylan playing. Whenever music is being played, there is no interview or audio being used over it, it is just Dylan playing in concert or with his group of friends. Because it was edited this way we are able to hear the music and realize how important it is to the film and to the life of Bob Dylan. It is edited to seem as one constant period of time; we never see the real change as time goes on. The tour continues but it is never edited to seem as though things change from place to place. The great editing combines with the interesting cinematography that Pennebaker uses in the documentary. The film was done all in black and white and has a mix of shots that were used. The black and white is generally grainy with a balance of black and white. Pennebaker shoots the time backstage, in hotels, and in concert as if we are there. It is as if we are naturally sitting there with Dylan and all of his managers and others that tour with him. There are close up shots that show Dylan playing either on stage or behind the scenes and this gives the viewer the sense of how much he thinks and works on his songs. Most of the camera work is very controlled, though there are times where they are walking backstage, or trying to escape from a concert hall that the camera is very shaky. However, the shaky camera work allows the viewer to feel as if we are part of the tour and that we are there with them. Overall, the film Don't Look Back shows a side of Bob Dylan that most are unable to see. We see the person behind the songs and are able to understand Dylan as a person. We see that he is somewhat cocky about himself and tends to want things done his own way. We see all the chaos that follows touring as a famous star and how someone like Dylan deals with that. He is outspoken and passionate about what he believes. Pennebaker is able to give us this in depth look at Dylan and let the fans become more a part of the artist. It is a great look at Dylan and frames his life and music in a way that makes it more accessible and understandable to the general public. Looking back now, over 40 years later, we can see how Dylan started and translate that into his fame that continues today. We can see why he is one of the best artists of our time.

If you're a Bob Dylan fan, do yourself a favor and rent the DVD version of "Don't Look Back." It includes an optional audio track of commentary from director D.A. Pennebaker and Bob Neuwirth, Dylan's pal and "tour manager" who was along for the ride on the '65 tour of England this film documents. Their thoughts are interesting, often insightful, occasionally hilarious and shed some light on the movie's more esoteric moments. For example, I never realized the extended hotel room scene of Dylan playing the piano was Bob actually _writing_ a piece of music. You'll probably learn something even if you've read all the books (Benson, Heylin, etc.). Oh, and it turns out Albert Grossman _loves_ the way he's portrayed in the movie, according to Pennebaker. Plus there's a fun alternate version of the "Subterranean Homesick Blues" video (which, for the kids out there, was copied in the '80s by INXS for their "Mediate" video) that was shot in a park somewhere, in which Dylan has even less control of the cards than he does in the final cut. Ginsberg is in the background of this one, too.