Excluding the rare exception where actor-identification in a role supercedes the person they play (think Gary Cooper/Lou Gehrig), Hollywood bio-pics come in two often self-defeating flavors: WAXWORKS and LITE. Neither necessarily pejorative; each can be screen worthy, both in use recently. (Churchill bios always leaning WAXWORKS; Musicians tilting LITE.) More noticeable (and positive) is a general move away from cradle-to-grave in favor of finding the crucial act to tell the tale in a single stroke. So, no surprise to see co-writer/director James Mangold going Single Arc-Lite on Bob Dylan: fresh acoustic folksinger to electric literary-rocker. Alas, no superceding identification in sight, it’s all Bob Dylan Lite (Timothée Chalamet - with a high polish shine); Pete Seeger Lite (Edward Norton - very good); Joan Baez Lite (Monica Barbaro - less good); and so on. But what ultimately kills the film is what’s not in here: Mangold missing any sense of danger or revolution; something all these culturally revolutionary BabyBoomers had in spades. Pollack, Mailer, James Dean, Johnny Cash; you never knew what you’d get when they showed up . . IF they showed up. Here, we know exactly what’s coming and it boils down to the surrogate Father/Son dynamic between Seeger & Bob. (That and a bit of bed-hopping from Dylan.) Adolescent rebellion a decade late (arrested development from Bob Dylan?), leaving surrogate Dad and his politically activated acoustic folk behind to play his own electronic-flavored rock/R&B) and bring out a voice of his own. Mangold’s reductive explanation only defangs and domesticates a difficult/complex personality. The times they are a’changing, but bio-pic bromides are forever.
DOUBLE-BILL: Another way to do these things is to have the celebrity figure cast a shadow from just out of frame, as the Coen Bros. have Dylan do in the unsatisfying INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS/’13.


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