For Bob Dylan to roll into a Hollywood studio and put his name to a character wandering through the downfall of a country is to concede defeat. Since the early days of the Vietnam War, Dylan has rallied against the powers of evil and the plight caused by war. And yet, forty years on from his blistering musical efforts, nothing has changed. This should be no surprise in the context of where Dylan was in his career during Masked and Anonymous. His musical reinvention through Love and Theft was overshadowed by 9/11, and while it is not a leading factor for his involvement in Masked and Anonymous, his conflicting emotions and sudden neutrality in the face of horror are telling. Bold it is as a storytelling device, the all-star cast can stand on their own feet.
These are our contemporary greats. From a seedy John Goodman to an on-the-nose directing style from Larry Charles. He and Dylan write this with the same gusto and observations expected of a piece from the Masters of War songwriter. Every line oozes Dylan. His thoughts on the world around him, the religious extremities or the faded, washed-up stars of the past feel their way through yet another project which could be autobiographical. But between this, semi-biography Chronicles and the intimate swing of Rough and Rowdy Ways, this is a fine, abstract piece in his body of work. Goodman and Jessica Lange thrive in these early scenes – the back-and-forth they have is built on nothing but choppy dialogue detailing the big problems of life. Their charisma is more than enough to carry it and what bits of the plot can shine through.
Unrest is all around. Music can haul us out of it. This mystery songwriter which becomes the focus of each character’s want amid a crisis, is a brilliant tell. We look to art in times of great conflict or terror and who can blame us? We put them on a pedestal and convince ourselves they have the answers. Though they do not correct us, it is chilling to see they are as perplexed and unnerved by the world as we are – which feels more like the point of Masked and Anonymous than anything else. Those without the answer try to put on a benefit concert and yet have no idea how conflict and courage on stage will pan out. The answer is they do not. Like Live Aid and its noble intentions, somewhere down the chain of command something, somewhere, will go wrong.
We see artists as demi-gods and hang onto their every word believing their perspective is greater than ours. They do not see their lives the same way because, to them, they are just one of us. In our desire to look at musicians or actors as untouchable figures, we forget they are mortal. Masked and Anonymous displays an understanding of the magic figure as just a being. It does not matter what their motive is or what they feel, they are in the mix with all of us. Masked and Anonymous may be an erratic and consistently shifting film, but such is the point of its message. We never know where to lay our hat because safety is not a place. It is a fleeting feeling, if we are to believe the slimy and self-interested characters found within. Shockingly good performances from Jeff Bridges, Bruce Dern and Dylan too are ripe for the picking.
New mixes of Dylan’s music are a way of extracting the man from the artist. He uses others, like Cheech Marin and Bridges particularly, as a mouthpiece for his worldview. It would sound preachy if it were from him, but as just another cog in the machine, it brings this idealistic image of what we want artists to be front and centre. We want them to be one of us yet untouched by the impact of our troubles. Like any great feature piece of Dylan, the project is more about him and a showcase of one side of his layered personality than it is anything else. His reflections on life and conflict are rocked by the modern terrors, and they still are – hence his turn to the past and nostalgia in recent works, covering the American songbook. In the past lies comfort because we think it is better than the future.
Dylan pulls this idea through with great intensity not just through his performance, but through the words of other characters too, some more obvious placeholders for people in his past. But therein lies the problem. By making it about him, Masked and Anonymous becomes another film of Dylan. He tries to separate himself from the real world, with artists giving his songs a bit of a punk and lush twist to make them contemporary – but they already were that. This is Dylan exorcising the image he had built, intentionally or not, as an elusive artist. Jack Fate is enough to carry an entire benefit on his lonesome. Did Dylan not have the same star power? Was his pull as an artist not big enough to carry an entire show, a tour or benefit, at one point? Yes, it was. Dylan knows what his audience thinks of him, and how much respect they hold for him. But he does not feel he deserves it, he is not the staggering character we think he is, this pot of endless answers and wisdom.
Dylan is a journeyman. From here he explores various avenues of interest in his music, his public performances and the portrayal of himself. By offering his personal side and acting abilities to an audience hoping for detail, he reveals less and less. It is a beautiful bit of sleight of hand and Masked and Anonymous is a major piece of this particular puzzle. He is just a person like the rest of us. There is no great clarity and the obtuse writing found throughout is proof of that. But this is where we can pick apart Dylan even more. Every time he tries to move himself away from this figure of sheer brilliance, we find a way to praise him further. It is an inevitability of a man who is now shrouded in this mystical sense, a mystery which is rather easy to unravel when zoomed out.
Masked and Anonymous is a well-built movie because it feels so fractured. But so too are the autobiographies, the personalised pieces of work which Dylan denies are at all to do with him. He can say what he likes, art is an infliction of the soul on another and there is no way around that. Dylan is not as uncaring as Jack Fate is as he watches those with a cause gunned down by those with another. It is the lack of shock which benefits his character most of all. How else can he react when he has seen it all before? Different times, different arguments, but the same weary outcome. Presenting himself as a man without the answers meant clambering onto a bus and travelling through the world as he always had, but this time with a morose feel to his words. There is no answer to the struggle and conflict. Dylan has resigned himself to the same weary indifference many of us have – but the embers of passion are still buried there, used to kindle a storm of reflection as often as he can bear it.
