Don't Look Back

 

Marianne Faithfull in the corner

manager Albert Grossman

Donovan

Director D. A. Pennebaker

Pennebaker with Dylan

Pennebaker holding the camera

Dylan with Howard Alk on the left

Dylan with Alk

DON’T LOOK BACK           A                                                                                               USA  (96 mi)  1967  d: D.A. Pennebaker

I ain’t lookin’ to compete with you,
Beat or cheat or mistreat you,
Simplify you, classify you,
Deny, defy or crucify you...

—Bob Dylan - All I Really Want To Do (Live in Liverpool - 1965 ... outtake footage filmed by Pennebaker, YouTube (3:40)

Made during Dylan’s 1965 solo tour of England, but released in 1967, this is the definitive portrait of the artist at an early stage of his career, a time when he was still only 23, yet it’s the height of his worldwide success, where the film has become an iconic rock document, an anthem for 60’s youth culture.  Pennebaker and Chicago filmmaker Howard Alk, one of the cinematographers on the film who would later direct The Murder of Fred Hampton (1971), had unprecedented access, and a brief temporal window behind the scenes that allows viewers to just hang out with the artist for a while as he’s on the verge of becoming internationally famous, with Dylan captured onscreen as he never would be again, offering a rare emotional intimacy that no subsequent documentary has achieved.  This is a film about the 60’s as seen through the dizzying life of one of the standard-bearers of that tumultuous decade, where he is to the 60’s what Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg were to the 50’s.  His Ginsberg-like stream-of-conscious words are an aggressive assault to the senses, where the meaning remains highly ambiguous, while his style is constantly changing, and his notorious avoidance of publicity borders on the obsessive, yet he remains the influential voice of the era.  One sequence that stands out, as if pulled out of time from a different era, is Ed Emshwiller footage of Dylan singing outdoors to farmhands two years earlier during a voter registration drive in the cotton fields of Greenwood, Mississippi, Dont Look Back (1967) -- (Movie Clip) Only A Pawn In Their ... YouTube (3:20), where he transitions from a younger version of himself to a live performance on this tour, mirroring the shift from folk traditions to a new terrain of rock.  Filmed during a three week concert tour in the spring of 1965, it’s not so much a documentary as it is a window into a private side of one of our more revered artists, a look behind the curtain, where his sneering intellectual arrogance on display and his disdain for others marks his turf as an insufferable egotist, yet there are throngs of admirers waiting to see him perform, where every concert is sold out.  It’s relaxed and informal, with no set format or criteria, perhaps only visualized in the editing room, which happened very quickly in a matter of weeks, displaying a remarkable gift for weaving music into the visuals so that each seemed to become indistinguishable from the other, reflective of the volcanic social and political transformations taking place during the 60’s, creating not only a revolutionary cinéma vérité approach to a road tour, but a new form of social commentary, bringing it to the mainstream, offering one of the most intimate glimpses possible of the perpetually elusive Bob Dylan.  An artist receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama in 2012 and who would be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2016 for his “new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition,” with literary allusions to a wide swath of notable poets and writers from Homer to Shakespeare to William Blake, Arthur Rimbaud, James Joyce, T.S. Eliot, Allen Ginsberg, and Jack Kerouac, but in the early years no one really knew what to make of him, and this gritty exposé of the good, the bad and the ugly reflects that mysterious confusion, containing a wide variety of mixed emotions.  A frustrating, puzzling, illuminating, and fleeting portrait of the artist as a young man, originally shot in black and white on handheld 16mm, with blurred grainy images of fast monochrome film, where cigarette smoke permeates every frame, much of the film takes place in a cramped hotel room at the Savoy in London, where the tight quarters only accentuate an atmosphere of intimacy, wandering around backstage, conducting interviews, meeting with fans, taking limo rides, creating a feeling of actually being there.  There is no narrative, and there are no talking heads, with no attempts to define or explain who he is, so it’s such an individualized, interior, free-associating experience that may play out differently for each individual viewer, offering an unflinching gaze into the darker corners of Dylan’s persona.  According to Pennebaker, “Dylan is an interesting person to watch because he is constantly creating himself, and then standing back and trying to witness it,” while according to Dylan, “What happened, [in the sixties] happened so fast, that people are still trying to figure it out.”  You may be able to recognize Joan Baez, Marianne Faithfull, Donovan, former Animals organist Alan Price just after he left the group, that’s him on The Animals - House of the Rising Sun (1964) + clip comp. 60 ... YouTube (4:32), Dylan’s relentlessly aggressive, über manager Albert Grossman (the film is actually his idea), and Beat poet Allen Ginsberg by sight, where there is nothing to identify them otherwise, as they simply appear onscreen, part of the mosaic of intermingling personalities that comprise this film.   

This remarkable film was added to the National Film Registry in 1998, while in 2021 Rolling Stone magazine listed this as the #1 music documentary of all time, 70 Greatest Music Documentaries of All Time, described as an “obvious cultural reference point” and a “permanent blueprint for the public’s image of mid-Sixties rock & roll.”  It bears some resemblance to the weirdly scripted comedy of Richard Lester’s A HARD DAY’S NIGHT (1964), shot during the height of Beatlemania and coinciding with a world tour, where fans besieged their hotels, stole various items for souvenirs, and chased them around London.  Here wildly enthusiastic fangirls are waving to Dylan outside his hotel, hopelessly trying to get his attention, screaming with delight at any sign of him.  What distinguishes this film from other musical documentaries is that this is not a concert film, as none of the songs play out in full, which is actually the film’s biggest criticism, but it’s not that kind of film, where it’s more about the intangible moments in between the songs, with Dylan interacting with the press, hotel personnel, or other friends and musicians paying him a visit, occasionally breaking out in song.  One thing that stands out is that he is defiantly contrarian, not willingly agreeing with anyone, continually finding an antagonistic point of view, yet what’s fascinating is how he sees himself during this momentous period of his life, regarding it all suspiciously, where we literally watch him reading articles written about him, and then reacts as only Bob Dylan can, as he obviously gets a kick out of seeing himself in the news.  When Dylan reads an article that describes him as “puffing heavily on his cigarette, he smokes eighty a day,” he hilariously responds, “God, I’m glad I’m not me.”  Not just a songwriter and musician, but Dylan is also a poet, who attracted the interest of other poets, including fellow musician/poet Patti Smith, who has talked about the impact both Dylan and the film had on her as a young, struggling artist in New York, as she “related to everything he did, his magnetism and sexual energy.  He was nobody’s patsy,” something she describes as “the hubris of youth,” Patti Smith on Bob Dylan and DONT LOOK BACK YouTube (14:01).  This would be Dylan’s final acoustic tour, coming just after he released Bringing It All Back Home, as he began to move away from the folk movement from which he’d emerged, where the first side is all electric, while the second side is all acoustic, becoming his first album to incorporate electric instrumentation.  When he returned to England in 1966 it was for the electric tour that caused one outraged fan who felt so betrayed he shouted out “Judas,” a legendary moment of instantaneous frustration that pretty much defines his career evolution, as he continually evolves into new musical forms, never repeating any song the same way twice.  Curiously, according to photographer Daniel Kramer, who was sent to photograph him, finding him completely uncooperative, he rarely even plays the guitar except when performing.  The film hasn’t aged a bit, and feels as modern and timeless today as it was when it was released, offering a compelling critique of an intrusive media that can completely misunderstand its subjects through their own bias, yet still print distortions and inaccuracies anyway.  Pennebaker’s restless camerawork is perfectly suited for Dylan’s chameleon-like persona, never really answering any of the interviewers questions, typically turning the questions back around on them, often seen hiding behind his everpresent dark sunglasses that he strangely wears indoors, where you may not like him, but he’s very human, as openly flawed as the rest of us.  The title comes from Satchel Paige, the ageless Negro League baseball pitcher who famously remarked, “Don’t look back.  Someone might be gaining on you,” with Dylan offering his own retort, “He not busy being born is busy dying,” and since he so thoroughly carries the film, the focal point of every single second, he describes the film as Pennebaker by Dylan.  The opening two-and-a-half minutes is an improvisational music video (with some calling it the first) promotion for Dylan’s first Billboard-landing single and electric rock anthem, Subterranean Homesick Blues, Bob Dylan - Subterranean Homesick Blues (Official HD Video) YouTube (2:15), with Dylan fumbling through a series of cue cards that he drops to the ground after the words are sung, a shorthand for his momentous lyrics, which sets the tone for what follows, with an unidentified Allen Ginsberg in the background, where he and Kerouac used to refer to themselves as “subterraneans,” the title of a 1958 book by Kerouac, where there is an audio recording of him reading a passage from the book, Jack Kerouac Reads From 'The Subterraneans' (1958) YouTube (3:14).

Dylan’s snarly and petulant attitude, particularly with clueless reporters, may have simply been a defense mechanism against the overexposure in newspapers and magazines, where his music was as overplayed on the radio as the Beatles, because commercial radio loves repetition, elevating him to a Godlike status, which he shied away from, so his automatic impulses shut down those questions while making fun of just how ridiculous the situation was that he found himself in, literally jousting with reporters, viewing them as comic relief, Dont Look Back (1967) -- (Movie Clip) Lies And Rubbish YouTube (3:45), where people were asking him everything imaginable, no matter how personal or inappropriate, and then writing whatever the hell they pleased, often using broad, encompassing labels to describe him.  So there are moments when he’s being spectacularly obnoxious towards others, a real jerk, as if he couldn’t care less about them, using acerbic sarcasm as a weapon, yet he also has some indescribable endearing quality, where he seems genuinely authentic and quite comfortable just being himself.  Mixed altogether in a musical collage, we’re privy to a constantly changing mindset that offers an exemplary view of all the contradictions he was constantly dealing with, where it’s impressive that a document like this even exists, as we rarely get behind the façade of great artists, but this one really expresses all the adrenaline-laced, sped-up confusion wrapped up in the meticulously documented, jagged edges of the experience, with Dylan acutely aware that a camera is always on him, where every moment is a performance, yet this may also be who he really is, making things up as he goes along, like looking in a mirror at yourself while real life is happening, where you have to wonder at times if that guy you’re looking at is even you.  In a bewildering moment that comes out of nowhere, all hell breaks loose when Dylan throws an angry tantrum after learning someone threw a glass bottle out the window, causing all sorts of pandemonium mixed with an air of late night drunken revelry, Bob Dylan hotel argument about throwing glass in the street YouTube (2:59).  Lost among the barrage of Dylan clips is an extremely raw and revealing moment with Alan Price, coming at a particularly vulnerable time for an extremely talented artist, having left The Animals under questionable circumstances, where alcohol may have played a role, and while he’s barely onscreen except for a few moments, they are tinged with giddiness turning to heartbreak, where the instantly changing mood becomes something of a subplot for the film.  Dylan’s unidentified right hand man and friendly soulmate is his road manager Bob Neuwirth, a partner in crime with a long and influential association with Dylan, who is with him throughout this film, often acting as a sounding board, both cracking up over the enthusiastic press coverage of Donovan, described by the press as “England’s answer to Bob Dylan,” which becomes a running joke in the film, where his press clippings adorn the hotel mirrors and a concert poster appears in the hotel room draped across a couch, but they’re generally on the same wavelength, Bob Dylan and Bobby Neuwirth YouTube (47 seconds).  Joan Baez makes an early appearance and then disappears, something she has described as “the most demoralizing experience of my life,” apparently having enough of this self-obsessed Dylan guy, but she sings a beautiful song, Dont Look Back (1967) -- (Movie Clip) Percy's Song, Etc. YouTube (3:57), while Dylan completely ignores her, back turned, typing away on his reportedly amphetamine-fueled experimental novel Tarantula, released several years later, which baffled his critics and left his fans scratching their heads, while in this same sequence Marianne Faithfull can be seen tucked away in a corner, never saying a word.  Donovan actually appears in the hotel room and sings a nice, conventional folk song, Donovan - To Sing for You, Bob Dylan - It's All Over Now Baby ... YouTube (4:05), with Dylan watching nervously until Donovan asks if he’d give an impromptu performance of It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue, which is endearing and seems especially personalized, yet the coup de grâce may actually be an unused outtake from one of Dylan’s most sublimely gorgeous love songs, filled with symbolist wordplay, Bob Dylan - Love Minus Zero/No Limit (Live at Savoy Hotel 1965) [HD FOOTAGE] YouTube (3:42), a snippet of which played in concert closes the film.  It’s fair to say Donovan was one-upped here, and was likely overwhelmed by Dylan in a take no prisoners mode, where there was simply no one else like him in the entire universe.  Not an easy man to get along with, yet this film graces the screen with rare moments of down time, when he had time to kill, preparing for the actual moments when he would take the stage, as this entire film is a lead-in to that combustible moment when Dylan set the world on fire.

2024 Top Ten List #3 All We Imagine as Light (Prabhayay Ninachathellam)

 

Writer/director Payal Kapadia

ALL WE IMAGINE AS LIGHT (Prabhayay Ninachathellam)           A                                      India  France  Netherlands  Luxembourg  Italy  USA  Belgium  (118 mi)  2024  d: Payal Kapadia 

Some people call this the city of dreams, but I don’t.  I think it’s the city of illusions.  You have to believe the illusion, or else you will go mad.                                                                             —part of the chorus of voices that opens the film

The first Indian film to premiere in competition at Cannes since Shaji N. Karun’s SWAHAM (1994) exactly 30 years ago, and the first Indian film by a female filmmaker to ever play at Cannes, winning the Grand Prix (2nd Place), the only Indian filmmaker to do so, though it really should have won the Palme d’Or over Sean Baker’s overwrought Anora, but apparently Jury President Greta Gerwig held sway with her American preference.  Building on her searing docufiction essay on militant youth, A NIGHT OF KNOWING NOTHING (2021), which denounced the takeover of universities by Narendra Modi’s Hindu nationalist government and was not distributed in India, unlike this film which has received congratulations from the highest levels of government (Cannes 2024: "India Is Proud Of You" PM Modi ...), this is a profoundly meditative, deeply compassionate almost spiritual evocation of the human condition at large, set in the pouring rain of contemporary Mumbai, centering on three female Hindu employees who work at the same hospital, each coming from small towns in southern India, as we follow their everyday lives and the bonds they share with each other.  The thought-provoking title, curiously enough, is borrowed from an expansive 11-panel painting (All We Imagine as Light (2017)) of the director’s mother, Nalini Malani, a well known painter and mixed-media artist in India, so the artistic lineage is passed down.  That title resonates throughout the film, like a Haiku poem, as the light, the lives, and the textures of contemporary, working-class Mumbai are explored and celebrated in this eloquently lyrical and poetic film.  Kapadia spoke to nearly 200 people over the course of two years, asking them about a migrant’s experience of being in Mumbai for the first time, adding an extremely tender and humanistic perspective on a story that deals with the hardships women face in their daily lives where an established male patriarchy is overwhelmingly present, as women remain invisible in India, with Kapadia paying attention to the lives of those that contemporary India has conveniently forgotten, offering a nuanced take on how internalized patriarchy can also affect female friendships, given a novelistic scope, using characters as a mirror of society.  Among the most acclaimed films of the year, it would have been among the favorites to win the Best International Film at the Oscars, but the film was not nominated by India, choosing instead Kiran Rao’s more conventional LAAPATAA LADIES (2024), the kind of film the Indian government wants to promote, backed by some of the wealthiest men in the country.  As a director who is viewed as persona non grata in the Indian movie industry, literally shunned by the establishment, forced to make films on the margins, Kapadia has succeeded despite them, though in order to do so she has had to seek foreign funding, with Ravi Kottarakara, president of the Film Federation of India, explaining that the selection committee felt “that they were watching a European film taking place in India, not an Indian film taking place in India.”  While it is true that films co-produced in Europe often demand post-production in Europe, including European editors and film crews, which this film has, where the French editing does, in fact, shape the arthouse aesthetics, though the director spent two months working on the editing herself, yet there’s no mistaking this is a highly sensory and sensual film, where the many shades of light become a portal into this beguiling universe of what is, essentially, an independent film.  This is apparently more of an Asian problem in general, having a difficult time getting films produced in their own countries, especially for women in male-dominated industries, though the myopic view from an all-male selection committee may have had other motives as well.  Kapadia is a director who's been outspoken against injustices in her country and was among 35 students arrested during a 2015 midnight raid on the 68th day of a 139-day long campus protest against the government’s appointment of actor-turned-politician Gajendra Chauhan for the new chairman of the Film and Television Institute of India.  Kapadia was subsequently stripped of her scholarship and the chance to participate in a foreign exchange program, while the criminal case against her, and against several dozen fellow students, remains open nine years later and is scheduled for trial next summer.

A Malayalam-Hindi feature, this surprisingly intimate, meticulously constructed City symphony film opens with a series of voices, not from any of the main characters but from ordinary people on the streets, speaking openly about the everyday struggle of finding stability in the city, which recalls “There are eight million stories in the naked city” from Jules Dassin’s The Naked City (1948).  “The city takes time away from you,” we hear from one, while another laments that he’s lived in the same spot for over 20 years, but can’t bring himself to call it home, claiming “You’d better get used to impermanence.”  Mumbai is a city that bustles by day and glimmers by night, yet the opening sequence presents a market at closing time in a wide tracking shot during the monsoon season, beautifully shot by Ranabir Das in a cinéma vérité style, reminiscent of Chantal Ackerman’s D'Est (1993), capturing the essence of the city with its vibrant colors and incessant energy, filled with street vendors, car horns, crowded trains, narrow alleys, high-rise buildings, the rush of crowds, a tropical level heat, and clashing dialects, where the city distinguishes itself as an important character.  People have come from remote villages in India to try to make a living, with Kapadia capturing the random dynamics of everyday life in a patchwork of transitory spaces, small destinies carving out their own paths amidst a larger need for connection while finding a purpose in their lives, where the idea of home is complex.  A penetrating exploration of the lives of three working-class women and the transformative power of friendship, including Prabha (Kani Kusruti) who is initially seen in slow motion on a local train, like one of the unseen voices suddenly coming to life.  She is a quietly reserved, yet heavily trusted head nurse, married to a man she barely knows through a family-arrangement (a common story of countless Malayali women), an absent husband who left immediately after the marriage to work in Germany, having lost contact with him some time ago, where her life is left in limbo, now totally revolving around work, while her younger more carefree roommate Anu (Divya Prabha) is a free-spirited, new generation colleague who spends her days stuck on her phone secretly exchanging text messages with her Muslim boyfriend Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), someone her family (and fellow nurses) wouldn’t approve of, meeting him clandestinely, always trying to find out-of-the-way places to spend time alone.  When her family notifies her of their intentions to arrange her marriage, making it impossible to choose her own husband, she doubles down on her necessity for “real” love.  The older Parvati (Chhaya Kadam) works as a cook at the hospital, whose late husband handled all their assets and documents, without which she finds herself on the verge of being evicted from her modest home of 20 years, thanks to ruthless developers seeking to demolish the building in order to construct new high-rise buildings for Mumbai’s wealthy elite.  Economic progress is built upon the displacement and disenfranchisement of thousands of underprivileged and routinely exploited undocumented migrant workers, where a conspicuous sign outside reads “Class is a privilege reserved for the privileged.”  Recognizing only the husband as the sole owner, they refuse to acknowledge her or offer any compensation, where she sadly confesses, “Without papers, you could vanish into thin air.”  Prabha pushes away the affections of a doctor who’s clearly drawn to her, Doctor Manoj (Azees Nedumangad), often taking her aside, even writing her poems and baking sweets (unniappams), hoping to break through her wall of reserve, but her reluctance to reciprocate his feelings leaves her anxious and alone.  As they navigate the challenges of urban life, we see a mix of their personal desires and the societal constraints, reflective of three different generations, all while using the city’s teeming energy as a backdrop to illuminate their inner struggles and fleeting moments of connection, beautifully capturing the nuanced complexities of female friendship, offering a very profound statement on the value of women, who are otherwise completely overlooked and devalued in this society.   

With a terrific musical soundtrack by Topshe, whose real name is Dhritiman Das (the cinematographer’s brother), also the name of a fictional literary character in Satyajit Ray’s famous Feluda series, the score sounds very much like Brian Eno in its emotional transcendence, while also including brief impressionistic excerpts from Ethiopian pianist Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou’s The Homeless Wanderer - YouTube (7:07).  Prabha may be viewed as the lead protagonist (the name literally means “light,” Prabha Name Meaning, Origin & more), extremely dignified and ever helpful to others, an essential component of her job, going through an intense inner struggle, where it’s also clear she keeps her emotions completely bottled up, which comes in conflict with the more aggressively flirtatious Anu, the source of hospital gossip, reminding her of the price she could pay for her brazen actions.  Very few, if any Indian films show any traces of nudity (which will be cut in India), yet there’s a moment following an argument when Anu angrily yet purposefully bares her breasts while changing out of her wet clothes before her roommate Prabha, creating an intentional moment of discomfort with an assertive act of liberation, which in itself is a very bold statement. Conversely, when Anu has sex with her naked boyfriend, she keeps her clothes on, suggesting she’s an empowered woman fully capable of making her own choices in deciding what’s best for her in any given moment, where her impulsive spontaneity is always a pleasant surprise.  Relationships aren’t presented in dramatic or sentimental terms, but in these small gestures and shared silences.  Despite the crowded chaos of the nocturnal city, where lives are compressed within small spaces, accentuating the effects of transientness and alienation, there’s a beautiful moment when the nurses rush to the rooftop to pull the sheets hanging out to dry from the torrential monsoon rains, like a scene out of Angelopoulos’ ETERNITY AND A DAY (1998), while Kapadia also lingers on quiet, overlooked details, capturing the lights in a market or the peaceful early mornings, hinting at smaller, gentler moments.  Parvati finally gives up on her ongoing battle against eviction and with the help of her friends decides to move back to her coastal hometown, which completely alters the rhythm of the film, finally slowing down, increasingly growing more quietly introspective, capturing the tranquility and natural beauty of the sea and the surrounding world, reminiscent of Hirokazu Kore-eda's Maborosi (Maboroshi no hikari) (1995) in the delicate scenes by the sea.  Not only is this an opportunity to explore various facets of femininity and the hardships they face throughout their lives, but leaving behind Mumbai feels like an important journey where they will find some form of autonomy, where the mystical forest meeting the sea becomes a space for their unfulfilled dreams to manifest.  While there’s no trace of melodrama, or any hint of stereotype, sometimes the artifice of film can help accentuate hidden truths that might otherwise remain hidden and never be seen, yet this film exposes so many layers of untold stories, where soulful connections are deep, yet for the most part remain unspoken.  With its focus on the subjective and emotional experience of the protagonists, where we sense something magical happening, allowing viewers to discover what is essential at any particular moment, for the director to show a sexually explicit relationship between a Hindu woman and a Muslim man in today’s India, under nationalist policies pushed by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, with a very significant increase in religious and political tensions (India's 'love jihad' laws: Another attempt to subjugate Muslims), makes this story as brave as it is beautiful.  India continues to be a place where women are punished for exercising their liberty.  These performances are genuine, feeling almost like a documentary, buttressed by the poetry of words and establishment shots that define where we are, where despite being far away, we feel as close as ever, offering clues to the transcendent power of cinema.  A tender, beautifully written and elegiac piece of work that has a seductive flow to it, with a slowly developing, hypnotic finale that feels right out of Wong Kar-wai’s CHUNGKING EXPRESS (1994), this understated film revels in human complexity and need, accentuating the fragility of existence, reminding us that grace can find its way through any darkness, with light becoming an apt metaphor for resilience and hope.