Barton Fink – FELIX, Victor

Certainly the most intriguing and genre-encompassing of all the movies we have seen so far in class, Barton Fink leaves the viewer with an odd but strangely satisfying aftertaste. The eerie composition of its various scenes, the inclusion of distinguishable and rummy characters, the numerous metaphors and allusions littered throughout the film, and the message it brings to its viewers make the entirety of it so appallingly thought-provoking and compelling. I want to say a lot of things about the film but I’ll focus on what I felt are the more important scenes, themes, and metaphors (or at least the ones I was able to pick up).
The film centers around a successful playwright named Barton Fink and for the most part of the film, explores his struggles and, even deeper, his inner anguish. I would describe the character of Barton Fink to be hauntingly frigid, purposively pent-up, and in some ways, willfully dense. The peculiarity of his character stems, in my opinion, from the combination of his obvious lack of emotional intelligence and the fact that he is cursed with the unbridled gift for scripting (at the time) contemporary plays. I say cursed because all throughout the film his literary prowess spurs him (even if he welcomes it or not) to complete his masterpiece, his saving grace, his so called “theatre of and about and for the common man”. In that way he is burdened by his talent, and this is reflected in his temperament: he is shifty, standoffish, and some could say that he is continually zoning out.
It starts to really pick up and allure the audience when Fink is thrust into unfamiliarity, into a foreign expanse, namely the Hotel Earle. Everything about this hotel, each of the scenes which feature Barton in the different places of the Earle, is so suggestive or inscrutable that one can’t help but feel strangely curious and at the same time extremely cautious. When Barton checks in the hotel (right after the quaint beach scene, superseding what we assume is his travel from New York to Los Angeles), it is as if it was at a standstill, seemingly stuck in time, and his arrival turned the switch on and started the gears grinding again. The scenes in the hotel lift also reinforce this: the elevator man looked like he had to take some time in remembering his directive. In general, I had the notion that the quality of time in the Hotel Earle is just as its tagline says, your stay in the hotel is so blurred it feels like “a day or a lifetime”.
I think what makes the hotel so phantasmagorical is the way the hallways and the adjacent rooms are portrayed in the film. The long, empty hallway and the numerous doors give the viewer a sense of wary isolation. It is suspicious because the viewers can never surely know if Fink has any other neighbors, since we do not see any of them, yet there are cues such as the shoes left outside the doorway and the various sounds or snippets of conversations heard around Fink’s room. These cues are shady in themselves: there is exactly one pair outside each and every door, each apart in an almost equal distance, and the sounds around him provoke a mild unease. These are shown in the scenes even before Fink meets Charlie Meadows, and so ostensibly, we know that in the back of our minds (and in Fink’s mind as well) there is something awry about this hotel.
All of these different aspects of the Earle point to something too surreal. The first sign of other residents is unsettling laughter (the source of this noise, we find out later, is Charlie Meadows). When Fink called to complain about a distracting noise coming from the room next to him, Chet answered in a blink of an eye, as if to imply that he is either continuously or vigilantly brooding over the telephone, or he was expecting the call. Either way, it is spine-chilling. In a way, the Coen brothers were able to flesh out the Hotel Earle so much so that it became an entity in itself: something living and breathing. And the viewers see this also, when the wallpaper peels to reveal a weird and unidentifiable adhesive, giving off an almost putrid effect. This is built on further with the use of colors in the hotel because I notice that a lot of yellow, green, and brown is used, which are the colors most relatable to decay.
Charlie Meadows is an equally particular character in the story, and crucial to the progression of Fink’s character. The film uses him to do a number of things and one of them is to portray the common man which Fink, as mentioned, campaigns for and empathizes with. But because of the two characters’ various interactions, we see that Fink’s emotional intelligence is worse than we taught: he is such a social troglodyte that he cannot understand the common man. He is, in a way, a very uncommon man. In the scene (a very telling one, at that) where Charlie and Barton’s shoes are interchanged and Barton blindly tries them on, we see from his facial expression sheer discomfort and unfamiliarity; Fink cannot seem to empathize with the common man because simply, he is not capable of such exercises. In the conversation right after they switched back, Fink questions the very source of his creativity saying “maybe I only had one idea in me: the play”, referring to Bare Ruined Choirs.
One motivation for his creativity (and Fink says this himself) is the great “inner pain”, the very same one which burdens Fink to create a theatre for the common man. One thing I noticed is that, although Fink kept on staring at it, the picture of a woman on a beach did not goad him into a writing mood. Only when that image of peace was situated with the totem of death and anguish, namely what is assumed to be Audrey’s head, did he get into a writing frenzy. This, I feel, is directly related to the climax of the film, wherein Charlie Meadows reveals to Barton Fink that all of Charlie’s actions have been for the sake of Fink, in that he wanted to release Fink from his mental prison (which is shown in the breaking of the bed rail) by making him realize that Fink does not know true pain, does not know how to empathize with others because Fink is so balled-up and somewhat close-minded that he sees people (specifically the common man), pain, and empathy as a mere abstraction, as a cognitive entity. It’s a shocking and violent crescendo, but a much needed one in the progression of Fink’s psyche.
Although the ending certainly leaves the viewer with a lot of questions, it also goads them into a second viewing. And indeed, repeated viewings actually flesh out Barton Fink even more. I don’t think I can state enough how unique the film came across to me, possibly because I have not seen any other film like it. One thing is for sure however: the first up until the last screening will leave the viewer with that Barton Fink feeling.


Brazil – FELIX, Victor

My initial thoughts on Brazil was generally positive. I really enjoyed the picture it painted: although it was clearly a dystopian society, Terry Gilliam was (oddly enough) able to inject subtle and dry humor into the film. We see the film’s protagonist and hero rise and fall from a seemingly small but truly significant ‘bug’ in the system. What really allures the audience, however, is the quirky and retroactive environment in which Sam Lowry lives in. It is a place in which order has been convolutedly combined with happiness, wherein consumerism has created timidity; it is a dark age made to look like a golden one.
One highlighted portion of the world in Brazil is the literalness, redundancy, and ridiculousness of bureaucracy. It gets to a point that administrative services are become incongruous and white collar jobs are ostensibly unable to function anyway beyond their directive. In its attempt to simplify and advance life, technology has convoluted the individual to administrative data. The scenes which reinforce this are shown when the secretary of Jack Lint was transcribing onomatopoeias like “aaaaaah!”, or when the arresting officer was giving Mrs. Buttle a receipt for her husband and a receipt for the receipt, or when Lowry’s boss is seemingly pathetic or effete in that he has to ask Lowry how to proceed in unfamiliar situations.
It was interesting to find out that Terry Gilliam is the creator of a lot of work in various media, but what really stuck out was the Monty Python series, a set of movies with a direct line to my funny bone. He was able to incorporate his sense of humor in a lot of ways. One thing I noticed was his ironic use of character names throughout the film, so much so that they are borderline misnomers. The first that we see is when the ‘bug’ in the system inadvertently interchanges the names Buttle and Tuttle. I find it humorous because a buttle is a nonstandard word to usually denote the head servant of a household and we see later that the character of Buttle was merely used as a scapegoat out of his own volition. What Information Retrieval was really looking for was the character of Tuttle, which is a pejorative slang term that means to either needlessly threaten the wrong party or to invoke expertise where none exists. Other examples of this could be Mr. Helpmann (a man who helps Lowry get into information retrieval but does not help him in his most trying time), Jack Lint (the word ‘lint’ used to mean a raveling of cotton for dressing wounds, which is ironic because he is essentially a torturer), and Dr. Jaffe (it sounds a lot like ‘gaffe’ which is a socially awkward or tactless act, possibly referring to the mother’s excessive plastic surgery).
The dystopian society Gilliam painted in the film was also somewhat subliminal. There were a lot of signs and posters strewn about the film which not only affects the characters but also, oddly enough, the viewer. Examples of these are “the truth shall make you free”, “who can you trust?”, and “mind that parcel”. It is easy to see that what Gilliam (and implicitly, the government in the film) wanted to create a society of distrust, possibly alluding to our own world’s status quo. Another thing that Gilliam wanted to stress was the modus vivendi of consumerism, and he did this in a subliminal manner as well. Scenes which show this is when the girl in Santa Claus’ lap requests for a credit card as a Christmas present, or when we see the banner “Consumers for Christ”, or in the highways wherein every inch of the roadway’s wall is covered with advertisements which in turn cover the wide-scale pollution caused by the excessive industrialism.
Although I have my own predispositions to anything dystopian, Gilliam is able to achieve something very original and, in a lot ways, offbeat. I overcame my inclinations to despair and dismay because there was humor and quirkiness. It didn’t seem like a reading of 1984 or Fahrenheit 451, nor was it a film like V for Vendetta or Equlibrium. I found it more like a cross between A Clockwork Orange and Sucker Punch (which was actually inspired by Brazil). Although the film builds on the protagonist and destroys him in the end, it was actually a happy ending. Sam Lowry continuously dreams and acts upon his escape from the society he lives in, and ends up achieving it (in a dark and dour manner, of course).
All in all I thoroughly enjoyed the film, and I would say it would be in the top three out of the ten we’ve seen this semester. It speaks of the dangers of dreaming, the self-destructive path an industrial society, and the ridiculousness of bureaucracy and white-collar or clerical occupations. It melds fantasy with reality, so much so that the world Gilliam creates for the audience is farfetched to the point of disbelief. Lastly, the film is a great example of dry, British humor and of the creative direction one can take in destroying a protagonist.

F is for Fake – FELIX, Victor

My first impression of the film was that it seemed extensively edited. There were all kinds of clips – video and audio – each in different exposures, spliced together. As one set of clips melded into another, the movie shifts tempo and the audiences’ state of feeling is changed as well. My second notion of the film is that Orson Welles can, as mentioned, cleverly change the tempo at any time and in so doing can create a ‘meta-tempo’: the tempo of the movie is that it is susceptible to changing tempo. This may sound like the movie is fast-paced and can thus give the audience no time to think, but one thing I noticed is that his usage of Muzak (or what some would know as ‘elevator music’) in a lot of scenes is of striking appropriateness. With its quick and rapid tempo all throughout, it is cleverly juxtaposed with the slow and almost deadening-paced concluding portion of the film, thereby intensifying each other.
The film plays around the various nuances in truth and fiction, and one way it does this is through various layers. First, the film is about the one of the greatest counterfeiters of graphic art, Elmyr de Hory. In telling Elmyr’s story, Welles also introduces Clifford Irving, who is Elmyr’s biographer. We later find out that Clifford Irving himself is also a bit of a fraud, in that he wrote a fake autobiography of the mogul Howard Hughes. This directly ties to Orson Welles himself, in that he also became famous from his adaptation of H. G. Welles’ The War of the Worlds which caused widespread panic in that the people misunderstood the radio program to be a real broadcast of a Martian invasion. Irving’s dupery is indicative of his work ethic, and so we question the very validity of his biography on Elmyr, the same way we would question the validity of any painting Elmyr would sell to an art gallery. Because we find out about these intricacies in the truth, we are led to speculate about the truth in the entirety of F is for Fake, and it does not help either that Welles mentions in the beginning that “…this is a film about trickery, fraud, and lies” and yet he continues in saying that “for the next hour, everything you from us is really true and based on solid fact”. It is hard to take the truth at face value when in essence, anything can be passed off as the truth.
One main theme I noticed, and this is the most detectable, is that of relativism. It was said in the movie, and I am just paraphrasing here, that the value of something depends on opinion while opinion (or the general public’s notion of what a good opinion is) is based on experts. One of the main subjects of the film, Elmyr de Hory, seeks to challenge the status quo through the expert forgery of not just famous paintings, but styles of famous painters. Showing these forgeries to expert appraisers of art and receiving the feedback that it is genuine brings Elmyr glee, because this strengthens his stance of relativism: that all criteria of judgment are relative to the individuals and situations involved. This side of Elmyr reminds me of this one scene from the TV series Community, wherein Jeff Winger says that “I discovered at a very early age that if I talk long enough, I can make anything right or wrong. So either I’m God or truth is relative. In either case, booyah!”
One thing which makes the truth, in the context of making a film, better than fiction is because more often than not, the truth is stranger than fiction. If I were to tell an outrageous and unbelievable story, seemingly a fabrication, and then say after that it was true it would have a sharper and more imbuing effect on the listener. It becomes more fascinating because it happened at some point in world history, with a real human being. On that note, nonfiction can be more powerful than fiction.
Another separate but related point I want to make is that in works such as these it is unmistakable to see that the artist, in this case Orson Welles, exists within and apart from the film. He adds a layer, as mentioned, by being in the film, setting the pace and dictating the scene. Through this, the filmmaker can transmit ideas, facts, or concepts but with his own personal presentment. As such, this particular motion picture does not only employ the use of traditional methods in presentation, but it also has a confessional and contemplative aspect to it, much like a literary nonfiction work. We see this when Orson Welles references his previous work The War of the Worlds and muses on how it affected America at the time and how it accelerated his career.
There are, indeed, several ways in which you can look at the film and that is the beauty of it. Although it was released in the 70’s, the style and method of Welles’ presentation was entirely and gratuitously new for me. I saw the film simultaneously as a play on truth and fiction as well as a critique on aesthetics and artistic creation. The former is particularly interesting because at times, the film uses itself as an example for the message it tries to bring across to its audience. I found the full extent of the movie to be very clever and strangely satisfying. It is as if Orson Welles did not allow the truth to get in the way of a good storytelling, or at least hold it back. I plan to recommend this to my arty peers in the hope that they too can find the magic so smartly crafted by Welles. Don’t take your eyes off the screen now, because in a blink of an eye, that key could transform into a coin.

Inglorious Basterds – FELIX, Victor

Watching Inglourious Basterds a closer and second time made me come to a few observations and musings. The first question, “How many movies are you watching?”, was easier to answer the more I thought about it. What I thought to be one film turned out to be, in my opinion, three (technically five, if you include Zoller’s and Shosanna’s film). If you were to pin the characters corresponding to these three movies it would be Lieutenant Aldo Raine, Shosanna Dreyfus, and Colonel Hans Landa. Often I found myself rooting for these three at certain parts of the movie as it unfolded. Additionally, these three are the main ‘gears’ of the plot: as one moved, the other two are spurred into a corresponding action, much like how wheelwork functions in a mechanical device.
I would say that it is hard to determine a central character is because the movie wasn’t made that way. This is reinforced in the fact that, seemingly, the culmination of each of these three characters’ purpose in the film, and basically the reason for their existence, is realized in the climax. It is in this portion of the film that the audience can see clearly how these three stories interweaved to make one coherent and closely encircling whole. If you were to look at these three characters and the forces which drive them, it becomes more obvious as to why the end of the war is so important to them. Lt. Raine was forcefully plucked from the mountains of Tennessee to fight in the war, and so by ending it quicker, he would be able to go back to his life. Shosanna has always lived a life of fear and resentment since the Nazis killed her family: it is not at all surprising that she did not hesitate to sacrifice her life in the name of Jewish vengeance. And lastly, Col. Landa is a high-ranking officer in the military who, with his intelligence and foresight saw that Nazi Germany would never succeed, and so coyly arranged to avoid any awkward predicaments after the war (but of course, not everything happens as planned).
The question, “What happens when history is transformed?”, is implicitly addressed in the film. After watching it, one can’t help but think how different the world would be if the World War II ended a year earlier, since the events in the movie comprising the denouement was in the middle of 1944. One major event which could have been prevented, among the countless others, would be the dropping of the atomic bomb in Nagasaki and Hiroshima in August of 1945. If you really think about it, dropping a weapon of mass destruction whose explosive power derives from a nuclear reaction into a major city is essentially a purposive genocide of a people. Such an act is remembered as grievous, yet necessary in ending the war. It was inevitable, however, that this also became a stain in the relations between the East and the West: something which continues to cause disparity until today.
Just from that one thought process alone, and the infinite amount of others, I can see that the movie reminds us that humanity’s actions today resonate or echo to an extent we cannot fathom. Who knows how many lives could have been saved in that one year? I am reminded of that one scene in Schindler’s List wherein Schindler breaks down after realizing he could have saved more lives if he had only sold some more of his possessions, even to the point where he equates his personal belongings with a certain number of lives.
The movie plays on this ‘reformed history’ well, especially with the character of Col. Hans Landa. If you look at it from the very beginning, Col. Landa could have shot Shosanna as she was running away, I am sure a person of that stature in the military is more than capable of doing that. But in letting her run away, he would not have been able to find himself in the golden and fortuitous opportunity presented in the end. He says this well actually, in a moment where he is seemingly out of character:
Lt. Aldo Raine: I’ve done my share of bootlegging. Up ‘ere, if you engage in what the federal government calls ‘illegal activity,’ but what we call ‘just a man tryin’ to make a livin’ for his family sellin’ moonshine liquor,’ it behooves oneself to keep his wits. Long story short, we hear a story too good to be true… it ain’t.
Col. Hans Landa: Sitting in your chair, I would probably say the same thing. And 999 point 999 times out of a million, you would be correct. But in the pages of history, every once in a while, fate reaches out and extends its hand.
[Landa slowly sweeps his arms out in a grand shrug]
Col. Hans Landa: What shall the history books read?

This movie brilliantly portrays a situation of significant circumstance, wherein one man can hold in his hands the fate of millions. It sounds farfetched, especially superlative, or extreme of its kind, but this is true even today with the current existence of democratic foreign relations. Then, however, in the context of World War II, of Nazi Germany, and of the overall state of fear at the time, this scene is overly significant.
One other thing I noticed, whether or not it was intended, was that Shosanna had a lover who was I’d say French-African. These two fall under what Nazi Germany would deem a ‘race of lesser dignity’, since Fascism’s vision of organic unity can only be achieved, they said, through the collective efforts of a single and undiluted race. One unfortunate truth is that in the recorded history of the Western world, the two races which underwent the most hardship would have to be the Jewish and the African people. From the text in the Bible we know that the Jewish people have been enslaved, displaced from their promised land of Israel, and are in a perpetual state of war with its Islamic neighbors. The people of Africa have also been enslaved, exiled, racially segregated, and forcibly removed from their country, much like domesticated animals. This is also mentioned in the film during the scene in the basement saloon. We can see that it is not only a Jewish revenge, but one by the African people as well. And if you take it further, it is revenge by any sort of people who have been collectively oppressed or persecuted.
On a final note, when history is transformed or re-imagined, most of the time it would have an ameliorative effect on its viewers. This ultimately alludes to the fact that there is, potentially and perpetually, a better future to strive for, or a vision that wants to be realized. Although one could argue that there is no use in crying over spilled milk, hindsight will always be in 20/20 vision and in that respect, there almost always would have been a better course of action. This is because when you are in the present, you have the advantage of seeing the past in the bigger picture. And such is the advantage of Quentin Tarantino in the instauration of this historical fiction movie.

I’m Not There – MATEO, Ina

            Six artists, different facets, one persona.

            I’m still dumbfounded when I discovered that all the main characters in I’m Not There are portraying Bob Dylan. I tried to fit Bob Dylan into one of the characters, only to realize that I cannot fully do so. These six characters act out different stages of Bob Dylan’s life, and so we cannot sum up Bob Dylan in just one character.

            I still can’t believe how star-studded this film is. Well, I guess it’s a good justification for a biography-ish movie of Bob Dylan. I’ve only seen Christian Bale and Heath Ledger together in The Dark Knight. And here they are in one movie, although they barely have a shot together. We have Richard Gere as well in the cast.

I found myself wondering why of all the actors who played as Bob Dylan, Cate Blanchette was even casted. Why her, of all the actors available in Hollywood? They had Richard Gere, Christian Bale, and Heath Ledger star in the film. Why need a woman to play Bob Dylan? Although it might not really be symbolic of anything as it might have been just a pure preference of the director, I still can’t help thinking about it. There must be something that Cate Blanchette can do that no other male actors are capable of. Or is the director trying to convey something, in the persona of Cate?

Cate Blanchette acted out naturally the hyper-masculine facet of Bob Dylan. Playing as Jude Quinn, she managed to pull off a man’s character. It was only her voice that gave her away—she’s still a woman.  It seemed that Cate was trying to break the stereotype being placed on women, that they couldn’t be a drinker and a player like Jude Quinn. Cate’s portrayal appeared break the usual definition of women—finesse, gentle, etc. Also, the way Cate acted, as Jude, seemed to stereotype males like how women were being stereotyped. She was able to easily act out a male role, thanks to placing men into stereotype.

Having six different artists with different art play one person, it still amazes me how they intertwine in the film. Yes, not all of them appear together in one shot. They don’t have a scene with two or more characters being present, mingling with each other. Exception goes to the scene in Riddle Town, wherein Billy The Kid meets Woody Gunthrie, although they did not interact. But it is pretty clear that they are representative of the different stages in the life, if not career, of Bob Dylan. The Riddle Town scene can be interpreted as a looking back scene, where the old self reflects on the young self. It’s like reminiscing the journey to that current state.

Music will always entice me to watch a film. I’m Not There does not only offer music by Bob Dylan. It also presents the orchestration of his life through different facets. From the start to the next verse, to the chorus until the bridge, and finally until the last note of the song—it all made an impact. I would like to see this film again, given the opportunity. 

I’m Not There – PARREÑAS, Miguel

I love music (Well, who doesn’t?) and for the final film to be about music seriously made me happy and when I heard that the film would be about Bob Dylan, I even got more interested simply because I only knew Bob Dylan as a musician and had nothing about his story and background.

First off, as the actors were first shown in the first few minutes of the film, I noticed that Cate Blanchett was part of the cast. And so the whole duration of the film, I was actually looking for her and soon before the film ended, my classmate randomly told me, “That’s Cate Blanchett.” And all I had for a reaction was, “Ah, oo nga no!”

I was really amazed at how the actors were chosen. Woody sounded really great while he sang songs while travelling. Jack was played by Christian Bale, who was really thin by the way. I have always viewed Christian Bale as a badass actor who only portrays badass characters like Batman. And in this film, he may not look exactly like Batman but the attitude was definitely there. And yes, his role as Jack Collins was really effective. Next is Jude, played by Cate Blanchett, was definitely one of favorite characters in the movie. Her acting and role just blend in too well for the film to the point that I did not even recognize that it was Cate Blanchett herself. Hahaha! For me, Jude basically had the “swag”.

So the whole duration of the film, I was just taking in almost everything that the film gives me and lucky enough, it flowed right into my brain like Stormtroopers marching mindlessly towards their ships. Hahaha! The plot was just so smooth even though it tackled one story but with different perspectives. I loved how the film had different perspectives but was still able to hold everything together! The reason why I also liked the film was because since it covered different perspectives such as a kid, a young man, an adult and an old man, it gives an impression that Bob Dylan is everyone. Or like everyone is capable of creating good music. Or like at some point, we too have experienced what Bob Dylan experienced. For this particular aspect of the film, I found it similar to V for Vendetta. When Eevee was talking to Inspector Finch in the last few scenes, she told Finch, “He was Edmund Dantes. And he was my father and my mother. My brother. My friend. He was you and me. He was all of us.” The ending of the film almost gave me goosebumps after finding out that it was somewhat similar to V for Vendetta’s ending.

Out of all the ten films that we’ve watched in class, this is probably the best I’ve seen. I know that I enjoyed Inglorious Basterds but that film was quite easy and straightforward. I’m Not There focused on a musician that I really admire and his life was presented in a creative way that somehow capture’s a slice of everyone’s life as well. I could probably say that this is the film that I appreciated the most out of the ten.

I’m Not There – TOPLIS, James

I’m Not There was my favorite movie the entire summer and I think it was the perfect movie to be used as the class finale. It was very fun to watch, with the presence of the music world connecting into each of the characters. From what I can gather from the characters, I can see Bob Dylan as a very complex, troubled, talented and iconic man. His life was just so amazing that he pretty much filled up six lifetimes.

I’m not really a Bob Dylan fan, which is I knew nothing about him, his life and even his music (except for “The times they are a-changin’” which I heard in the movie Watchmen). Despite this though, it was still very interesting to watch all the different stories of the characters and how they represent parts of his life. The character of Woody was very inspiring for me, to see a little talented kid travel out into the world to make name for himself. Jack Rollins was also a very interesting character. I thought it was pretty cool that the way his life was presented was through a documentary, complete with interviews. I saw his story as something very realistic, with his drunkenness and misogynistic attitude. Even though his wife got custody of their children, I found it touching that he still made it a point to be a good father to them. Seeing him find peace through faith, although a bit cliché, was a touching image for me.

The character of Quinn was probably the one that stood out the most in the film. He showed to me the typical image of a rockstar, one that did not care about anyone else but their music, saying whatever they wanted to say and doing whatever they wanted to do. This attitude of his was pretty funny though, especially in the scene where he was asked for a word for his fans and he just said “astronaut”. Another memorable scene for me would be the one where he was rolling around in the grass with four other men. At first I did not get what it was about, until I heard one of the men say “John” and I immediately thought of The Beatles, and the five of them must have been getting high. This was a very funny image, seeing such an iconic group coming together with “Bob Dylan” and doing what they’ve been known to do.

Despite how awesome Quinn was though, my favorite character had to be Billy the Kid. I don’t know why, but seeing an old Richard Gere, minding his own business and taking care of dog was a relaxing image for me. The fact that he was a former outlaw in retirement sort of made him look better in my opinion, as if he was reformed or retired. The way he defended the town and spoke out against the people that planned on demolishing it was a good scene for me. I think the reason I like him most though would be when he was riding the train and we see his lost dog running across the film. The entire time I was praying for his dog to jump in the train and be reunited with his master. Although it didn’t happen, the feeling I had about it was still there.

Overall the movie was very entertaining. It gave us a look at the life of Bob Dylan through many different characters and storylines and I think this should be a movie that anybody looking for info on Bob Dylan should watch. I plan on watching this film again sometime in the future, after learning a bit more about Bob’s life to understand more of what the movie has to offer.

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