Instant Favorite.

Fantastic!

It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

It's simply great fun, a winsome film and an occasionally over-the-top luxury fantasy that never flags.

I'm a huge fan of both Bob Dylan and D.A. Pennebaker's documentaries, so to me, this was a no-brainer to watch, especially this vintage. I was fortunate to catch Dylan live, after his life-threatening bout of pericarditis, in Ann Arbor, Michigan at the Hill Auditorium with the Kenny Wayne Shepherd band as support, but how amazing it would have been to have caught him live on this British tour, from a generation earlier.I would have given it a perfect rating, but I docked a mark for him making fun of Donovan, for crying out loud. Yes, he is Bob Dylan and deserves to say what he wants to, but don't be such a jerk, man.

Bob Dylan is the ideal subject for a documentary. He knows how to play to the cameras, and although his arrogance is legendary, so is his talent as a songwriter. His catalogue is unbelievable, and Don't Look Back follows him on tour in England in 1965, at the early part of his career. Joan Baez and Donovan are seen performing off the cuff, in a hotel room with Dylan smoking a cigarette and typing lyrics on a manual typewriter. The ease with which he composes songs is a marvel to watch. A British reporter has the misfortune of interviewing Bob at a press conference, and he is skewered by the young ànd brash American. My favorite line is when Bobby utters the phrase, "give the anarchist a cigarette" a reference to media descriptions of him. The voice of a generation sings at Royal Albert Hall, and he is mesmerizing. The word genius is too often used to describe an artist, but it is appropriate in the case of Mr. Dylan.

D.A. Pennebaker does something different with this clearly- and probably slightly revolutionary- approach to form of cinema verite approach that has as much to do with directorial choice as it does with lack of any budget, and trying to use the best of an all-access-pass to the behind the scenes with an iconoclast like Bob Dylan. As far as I can tell, and maybe it's something sort of naive, there doesn't seem to be an inherent bias on part of the filmmaker. A director of a documentary usually, and most often effectively, will have some kind of subjectivity, or something to say with the collection of interviews and the subject matter. But we never really see Pennebaker skewering either side or the other. For whatever one might perceive to see in Bob Dylan from this time capsule, a man at 23 who was swarmed by media buzz and an acclaim that was staggering (and, from the start for Dylan, more than a bit of a crock), it can't be said that Pennebaker is being unfair to anyone here, not to Donovan or the press or whoever it was that broke that glass in the street.And least of all to Dylan himself; it's because of a stripped-down, bare-boned approach to film-making with a camera in a room getting down the beats- only once does Pennebaker go to a 'flashback' of sorts- that one can't truly and easily pin down what Dylan's all about. And because of the questions raised about the nature of a young artist in a frenzied environment where the pressure to be one thing, i.e. 'folk hero', 'voice of a generation', et all, it's really not simply one of the best rock documentaries, but one of the more insightful, strangely involving documentaries of the past 50 years. We see the fun moments; Dylan having laughs with his fellow musicians or playing guitar with Joan Baez or others; the quiet moments like writing a song on the typewriter; we see the interviewers perplexed at the thought that they're getting prodded by a subject who can disarm their queries at nearly every turn either, arguably, by a stand-offish quality, or just not knowing how to logically answer a question without sounding untruthful. And then the music, on stage, sort of alone in a way with the audience tuned into every word he says as though he's a golden calf.Many scenes are simply fun, experimental. The opening to the film is like a punk rock music video, as Dylan just stands there, awkward and blank-faced, turning over the cards for Subterranean Homesick Blues, with Ginsberg at the end walking across the alley Dylan was standing on. Seeing Dylan with an acute sense of humor is refreshing, and at times it's almost like he uses it as a defense mechanism, as a means of uncertainty to go through fans and the like (the scene with the science student has been described by some as Dylan being simply bullying, but again there seems to not really be any bias- Pennebaker could make this guy look like the fool, but each side is heard, and whoever comes out the wiser once the conversation ends is anyone's call). It might go without saying, however, that some of the material in the film could use some context: Dylan had to go under the same sort of press attention and questions every time, over and over, which was something that Dylan could never really adjust to like other celebrities or popular musicians. Hence a scene like the heated talk with the TIME news reporter; if one knows nothing of Dylan, it might make him seem hostile, or at least uncomfortable. But even with this one sees the nature of an interview where there isn't balance- TIME hasn't listened to much of Dylan's music, and Dylan already has a bias against the magazine for, according to him, not printing the truth as it could. "Do you care about what you do?" the interviewer asks him, to which Dylan takes umbrage. It's almost like watching a loop, where neither side will give in exactly, and it's too complex to tell which side is really wrong or right. Questions between them lead to the audience bringing up questions: is this 'folk hero' really a jerk? Is there some truth to his ranting? What about the generation gap? It's a perplexing scene that is, in its tense manner, spectacular.But as many will want to see in Don't Look Back is the music, the mood of the man who's life was work. It's interesting to see Dylan, in context, on the precipice of his transition from folk to rock, starting a slight disconnect with the folk scene with a few fellow band-mates on the tour, and yet always at his peak playing the same songs he'd played repeatedly for the past few years (Times They Are A'Changin is the same opening number on every date of the tour). There are many pure moments of spontaneous music (Joan Baez singing Turn Turn Turn, and Dylan with It's Alright Ma, I'm only Bleeding ), and practically all the stage stuff, including Hard Rain's Gonna Fall and Blowin in the Wind, two of the most atypical of his songs. At the same time one sees and hears someone like Bob Dylan at the peak of his powers in the 60s, there's the observant dissection of fame- even through Pennebaker's technical imperfections of a loud camera- and if only a small taste of the 'why' that Dylan couldn't ever really be himself, and if so wedged somewhere in a quasi-persona. Don't Look Back is amazing.

Follows Dylan through England as he rises to the peak of his powers. The Holy Spirit surrounding him oozes out of the screen and can be tasted if you pay attention. Dylan dominates his surroundings, on stage and off, with lightning in his pocket and angels in his prose. Sure he's smug and arrogant, but why shouldn't he be? His genius comes through here bare-bones and free of the ornaments and apologies Scorsese recently felt obliged to cushion him with. Dylan will be the first to admit he doesn't have the ability to channel the Divine like he was when this film was made, which makes it all the more important that we have it. Prophets still grace our presence, and it's up to us to pay attention. Watch this film. Pay attention.