Thinking about how to write about I’m Not There has been almost as entertaining as watching the admittedly already very entertaining film. First I considered taking a director heavy view. No huge fan of Todd Haynes, I was toying with comparing and contrasting the film with his last stab at a rock biopic – Velvet Goldmine – which I hated. One of the plus points of I’m Not There is that is has made me consider that maybe I was wrong about Velvet Goldmine. Indeed there are similar tricks in both films (the lead character is rarely referred to by name), but Velvet Goldmine’s biggest failing was the inability to use the original Bowie music. I’m Not There has no such problem, and delights in shoehorning the odd Dylan lyric into the dialogue as well as plenty of music.
Then I thought maybe the six actors who play Dylan needed their own critique. Or perhaps a review in the style of six different critics. Here’s a film I would have loved to see Alexander Walker’s wrong-headed assessment of (he’d have hated it). But in the end pastiche, like spelling, is not my strong point. Perhaps a deconstruction of this already hugely deconstructed film would help, or would make it fall apart, it is clear that Haynes is walking a very fine line with his six stories which make part of a man.
But after a few days it came clear to me why I’m Not There is so great. Its form, the six returning characters in sometimes incomplete stories, most resemble a character based sketch comedy. OK, the film is going for laugh out loud yucks, but I’ve seen enough of BBC Three’s output in the last year to consider that no TV sketch show is all about teh funny. And of course I’m Not There is actually really funny in places. Blanchett’s deadpan stream of consciousness mumblings, Whishaw’s pretentious soundbites and of course Christian Bale’s hilarious hair acting. Understood as a series of sketches with recurring characters, the film is shorn of any need to make anything but a passing reference to narrative. As a sketch show you allow its occasional flat scenes (RICHARD GERE) to pass waiting for the next zinger. And as a sketch show you can luxuriate in how well made it is, especially if your frame of reference is TittyBangBang.