Are the guitars right? Is Joan Baez sidelined? Who is this Sylvie Russo? A Dylan tribute singer, two biographers, a superfan and more weigh in. Salient elements of the story, musical and sartorial, are carefully assembled, from the right guitars to the famous green polka-dot blouse, while events are compressed and merged in order to tell larger truths within a manageable framework.
But the point is made, and there is a feeling that somehow, despite all the tricks that film directors play with the facts, justice has been done. Except, of course, to Suze Rotolo. The fact that Bob Dylan likes the movie says a lot. Take Suze Rotolo. Cultured and widely read, she was a full-time political activist when they met in She is shown explaining to a blissfully unaware Dylan about the civil rights movement and the brutal segregation in the south. In life, Suze was a young woman who knew her own mind.
Her sensational performance at the Newport folk festival put her on the map. So to show her performing at a Gerdes open mic alongside Dylan is risible. However, she was among the first to record his songs, and introduced him at concerts across the country, including the Hollywood Bowl, often to the dismay of many of her fans.
But go see this enjoyable film, then use it as the launchpad for an exploration of the real artists and their music. Dylan has always made disguise an essential part of revelation, and self-dismantling crucial to self-furthering. In his songs this takes multiple forms: the assimilation of existing melodic lines in the tunes themselves; the repeated reference to masks, avoidance and erasure in the lyrics.
Besides, the performances of all the main characters are so brilliantly good, they quickly overwhelm every reason to quibble. Chalamet is uncannily plausible in voice, stance, dress, aspect and even laugh that unexpectedly high snicker. As it is. The record of a particular time and resonant in every time.
