July 24, 2003

Times They Are Surreal in Bob Dylan Tale

n the midst of a heated discussion about something or another, Jack Fate, a gnomic folk singer, brings up the subject of cellulose. "It's in the grass," he says to Nina Veronica, a blowzy concert promoter played by Jessica Lange. "Cows can digest it. But you can't, and neither can I."

Since Jack Fate is played by Bob Dylan, the granddaddy of all gnomic folk singers, one interprets this kernel of wisdom at one's peril. Later on, Jack will muse that what matters is not what things mean, but what they don't mean. I take the point, but I would nonetheless risk the suggestion, based on perfectly mediocre Dylanological credentials, that the cellulose might serve as a metaphor for "Masked & Anonymous," the movie in which all of this strange talk, and a good deal else, takes place.

I did not see any cows at the screening, but only a many-stomached Bob Dylan fan could walk away from this film, which opens today nationwide, feeling well nourished. And some, undoubtedly, will. You may encounter people who tell you it's a stone masterpiece. The thing to do is nod politely. They mean no harm. For all I know, they may be right.

As a movie, "Masked & Anonymous," directed by Larry Charles, a master of the sitcom domain making his big-screen debut, is an unholy, incoherent mess. As a Bob Dylan artifact, though, it is endlessly, perhaps morbidly, fascinating. If not for a handful of first-rate performances, including some of his own songs and a stunning rendition of "Dixie," the movie would belong on the cultist's curio shelf along with Mr. Dylan's 1966 "novel," "Tarantula," and his 1978 film, "Renaldo and Clara."

The intent seems to have been to capture the feeling of one of Mr. Dylan's surreal, shaggy-dog ballads on celluloid (not to be confused with cellulose): not an especially good idea, perhaps, but certainly an interesting one. Filmed in picturesque, run-down corners of Los Angeles, the movie fuses Coen Brothers Americana with Gabriel García Márquez magic realism. (It also, speaking of the Coens, reunites John Goodman and Jeff Bridges, who speak lines that might have been dreamed up by their characters in "The Big Lebowski.")

The story, if you could call it that, unfolds in a mythic country ruled by an aging despot whose uniformed likeness is on every wall, watching over the squalor of his people. A civil war is raging. Television network executives carry guns. In the midst of the chaos and bloodshed, a show-business hustler named Uncle Sweetheart (Mr. Goodman, in a gigantic pale blue tuxedo) decides to organize a benefit concert, and since he has no hope of booking a really big star (Sting, Billy Joel, Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen are mentioned) he settles on Jack Fate, whom the dictator, for reasons that will emerge later on, has thrown in jail.

Out he comes, with a guitar case, a garment bag full of Nudie suits, and an enigmatic half smile on his face. He listens patiently to the rantings of various haunted and bedraggled actors, including Ms. Lange, Val Kilmer (ranting about animals), Giovanni Ribisi (ranting about war) and Mr. Bridges (ranting about Frank Zappa and Jimi Hendrix, and accompanied by Penélope Cruz, who, instead of ranting, prays furiously and twists her hair). Occasionally, he offers a thought of his own. Luke Wilson, in a state of relative calm, shows up as Jack's trusty sidekick, carrying a guitar that supposedly once belonged to Blind Lemon Jefferson.

So we know something is happening here. We just don't know what it is. Which is, at least partly, the point. Ever since he rolled into Greenwich Village from the middle-class wilds of Minnesota more than 40 years ago, spinning tall tales about his previous adventures, Mr. Dylan has both encouraged and confounded legions of would-be exegetes. His lifelong foraging in the overgrown pastures of American popular culture has taught him that the true prophet is often indistinguishable from the snake-oil salesman, and his gaunt, weathered frame contains both personas.

And "Masked & Anonymous" works best as a meditation on, and a tribute to, his mysterious, implacable self. When he sings, he is in very good voice, and the band behind him is fiery and tight. The soundtrack is filled out by covers of some of his best-known songs, in languages from Japanese to Italian to Turkish, and the movie includes part of an a cappella "Times They Are A-Changin' " sung by a wide-eyed young girl. At the end, Mr. Dylan — I mean Jack Fate — sits on a bus, musing on what things do and don't mean, and listens to himself sing "Blowin' in the Wind," which is where the answer, my friend, still is.

"Masked & Anonymous" is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). There is some swearing, some fighting and some drinking. If you see it with your children, there will be a lot of explaining.

MASKED & ANONYMOUS

Directed by Larry Charles; written by Rene Fontaine and Sergei Petrov; director of photography, Rogier Stoffers; edited by Luis Alvarez y Alvarez and Pietro Scalia; music by Bob Dylan; production designer, Bob Ziembicki; produced by Nigel Sinclair and Jeff Rosen; released by Sony Pictures Classics. Running time: 107 minutes. This film is rated PG-13.

WITH: Bob Dylan (Jack Fate), Jeff Bridges (Tom Friend), Penélope Cruz (Pagan Lace), John Goodman (Uncle Sweetheart), Jessica Lange (Nina Veronica), Luke Wilson (Bobby Cupid), Val Kilmer (Animal Wrangler) and Giovanni Ribisi (Soldier).