I don't generally like music biopics. They tend to come across as contrived, using lines like, "I'm writing a new song!" and "You've got a hit!" to tidily summarize those rare moments when genius connects with the public consciousness.
In his film about Bob Dylan, "I'm Not There," Todd Haynes eschews the biopic formula and its pratfalls--by not putting Dylan in the film at all. Instead, Haynes gives us six characters which reflect different facets of this complex artist.
"I'm Not There" first presents us with Fake Dylan, a black boy who worships Woody Guthrie. Toting a guitar case with Dylan's famous warning, "This Machine Kills Fascists," the Fake Dylan spins tales about his past with a clear eye towards building a myth that will lead to stardom.
When a woman implores the boy to stop aping Guthrie and start singing about the social injustices of his own time, the film shifts to a second character, Jack Rollins. Rollins represents Dylan's folk protest period.
Soon we are introduced to Robbie Clark, a movie star played by Heath Ledger. Ledger ably depicts Dylan's battles with fame and celebrity, as well as his turbulent love life. We also meet Poet Dylan, who simply looks into the camera while spouting subversive Dylanisms, and Pastor John, who briefly shows us Dylan's conversion to evangelical Christianity.
A plurality of the film's time, however, is given to Jude Quinn, brillantly played by Cate Blanchett. Quinn represents Electric Dylan, the disillusioned man who gave up on trying to change the world through song. He pays a heavy price for this perceived treachery, sparring with the press and alienating folk obsessives who cry "Judas!"
Blanchett's performance draws heavily from D.A. Pennebaker's documentary on Dylan, "Don't Look Back." During this time Dylan was combative with reporters and fans, frequently questioning the premises of their queries to him. This led to widespread doubts about his sincerity, to which Dylan generally replied, "What is sincerity? What is truth?"
The sixth and most puzzling character is Billy the Kid, played by Richard Gere. This incarnation of Dylan has escaped the rigors of civilization by living alone near a nineteenth century small town. Though he prefers seclusion, Billy comes into town to protest the construction of a railroad. With his final character, Haynes seems to be demonstrating that even a world-weary Dylan still clung to his principles.
On one level, "I'm Not There" can be viewed as a jumbled mess. The story jumps back and forth between the characters with no rhyme or reason.
But in some sense, can't Dylan's music also be viewed as a jumbled mess? So many of his lyrics are a hodgepodge of vivid imagery, witticisms and non-sequiturs, yet it all comes together to achieve a strange poetic beauty.
I didn't always understand "I'm Not There." But by the end I found myself nodding and thinking "Yeah..."
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Wall Street
Some people will do anything for money and power.
Most of us take this truism for granted and move on with our lives. Oliver Stone sees it as a justification for a career's worth of crappy movies, from "Salvador" to "Nixon". "Wall Street" is a prototype for his heavy handed schtick.
Charlie Sheen stars as Bud Fox, an up-and-coming stock broker who manages to befriend his idol in the investment world, Gordon Gekko, played by Michael Douglas. (With these names, though, you could be forgiven for thinking it's a film about a used car salesman and a porn star.) Fox quickly learns the secret to Gekko's success: trading on inside information and ruthlessly tearing apart companies for profit.
Inevitably, Fox turns to the dark side, tempted by money and women (represented here by Daryl Hannah, whose butch features and inept acting call to mind Hulk Hogan rather than Hollywood hearthrob). Fox's inevitable turn to the dark side can be summed up in three conveniently ham-handed quotes:
"But that's illegal, Mr. Gekko!"
"Everybody's doing it."
"Who am I?"
Adding to the embarrassment is the fact that "Wall Street" is hilariously dated, and not just because the characters' cell phones are the size of small children. Talented auteurs, the Scorceses and Tarantinos of the world, put a stamp on their films that allows them to transcend time ("Mean Streets" and "Pulp Fiction" retain their remarkable cool years later). But with its atrocious '80s soundtrack and paint-by-numbers cinematography, "Wall Street" is very much of its time.
Stone doesn't seem terribly interested in making a good movie here. After all, when you write lines like "You don't actually think we live in a democracy, do you Bud?" or "Money makes you do things you don't want to do," it's clear you're more interested in making adult after-school specials than films.
Most of us take this truism for granted and move on with our lives. Oliver Stone sees it as a justification for a career's worth of crappy movies, from "Salvador" to "Nixon". "Wall Street" is a prototype for his heavy handed schtick.
Charlie Sheen stars as Bud Fox, an up-and-coming stock broker who manages to befriend his idol in the investment world, Gordon Gekko, played by Michael Douglas. (With these names, though, you could be forgiven for thinking it's a film about a used car salesman and a porn star.) Fox quickly learns the secret to Gekko's success: trading on inside information and ruthlessly tearing apart companies for profit.
Inevitably, Fox turns to the dark side, tempted by money and women (represented here by Daryl Hannah, whose butch features and inept acting call to mind Hulk Hogan rather than Hollywood hearthrob). Fox's inevitable turn to the dark side can be summed up in three conveniently ham-handed quotes:
"But that's illegal, Mr. Gekko!"
"Everybody's doing it."
"Who am I?"
Adding to the embarrassment is the fact that "Wall Street" is hilariously dated, and not just because the characters' cell phones are the size of small children. Talented auteurs, the Scorceses and Tarantinos of the world, put a stamp on their films that allows them to transcend time ("Mean Streets" and "Pulp Fiction" retain their remarkable cool years later). But with its atrocious '80s soundtrack and paint-by-numbers cinematography, "Wall Street" is very much of its time.
Stone doesn't seem terribly interested in making a good movie here. After all, when you write lines like "You don't actually think we live in a democracy, do you Bud?" or "Money makes you do things you don't want to do," it's clear you're more interested in making adult after-school specials than films.
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