Dylan has obviously meant so many different things to so many different people that it only seems natural to Haynes to use multiple characters to help define him. In I’m Not There, Haynes juxtaposes six different versions of Dylan that follow the vague chronology of his career. These incarnations include: Woody Guthrie (the nomadic early years); Jack Rollins (the popular protest days); Jude Quinn (the revolution against classification); Arthur Rimbaud (the poetic era), Robbie Clark (the downside of a career); and Billy the Kid (the withdrawal from society).
Haynes’ film is a convoluted, yet effective, piece of post structuralism that is insistent on allowing the audience to draw from it what they will. Rather than employ a straightforward episodic narrative, the director calls upon a rather amorphous set of events to define the legendary Dylan. Teetering on the brink of losing the audience on several occasions, I’m Not There survives through its potent imagery and the sublime Cate Blanchett as Jude Quinn. She is so eerily similar to Dylan that we completely lose ourselves and forget any of her previous screen associations. Blanchett’s Dylan boils like a cauldron of conflict as she reasserts her claim as one of he best character actresses of our time.
I’m Not There is a very extensive look at the mercurial musician including many details that will most assuredly slip past the casual fan. There are multiple references to his failed movie career (see Hearts of Fire) and even numerous visuals alluding to his free-form novel, “Tarantula.” This level of detail actually becomes a hindrance to Haynes’ picture as it puts the common audience at an immediate disadvantage. It is clear that a significant amount of viewers will just give up rather than struggling keeping up. However, for Dylan enthusiasts, the film is a delight akin to a spiritual journey that touches many fond memories. The soundtrack is comprehensive as well with an interesting turn from indie stalwarts Sonic Youth and a badass version of “Tombstone Blues” by Richie Havens. Despite some shining moments in the collaborative effort, we are left wondering about the peculiar lack of tracks off the rather appropriate “Another Side of Bob Dylan.”