just watch it!

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

Great story, amazing characters, superb action, enthralling cinematography. Yes, this is something I am glad I spent money on.

One of the worst ways to make a cult movie is to set out to make a cult movie.

I just FINALLY watched "Don't' Look Back", and although I'm glad I finally plowed through it, I can't really recommend it UNLESS YOU'RE A BIG BOB FAN. The songs (all just snippets) were great as expected, but would it have hurt Pennebaker to let a few play all the way through? Granted, the idea of a rock documentary 51 years ago was pretty much unprecedented, and the fact that he had unlimited access led to some interesting scenes. But maybe I'm just numb to the constant onslaught of reality TV in 2016, so even seeing some from over 50 years ago (which wasn't really "staged" like so much of it is today) just doesn't hold my total interest for 90 + minutes.Best clip: Dylan singing "Only a Pawn in Their Game" on July 6, 1963, at a Voters' Registration Rally in Greenwood, Mississippi (shot by artist and experimental filmmaker Ed Emshwiller). NOW THIS WAS SOMETHING I HADN'T SEEN BEFORE , nor did I know it even existed.2nd best clip: the groundbreaking "Subterranean Homesick Blues" video. Often imitated, and never quite duplicated, this is still AWESOME a half-century later!

Been listening to a lot of Dylan recently and so I watched this again. Probably not seen it since video days and the only drawback that I remember from that viewing was that some of the dressing room/hotel room conversations were a bit inaudible. Much clearer now and what a superb documentary this is. Again, perhaps, particularly seeing it 45 years after it was shot it is amazing to see Dylan performing the very songs I am still listening to and seeing him in conversation and argument with pals and interviewers. How old the people sent to interview him now seem and how unprepared for the changing times. So fantastic to have such a document without over dubbed narration or nodding heads just a swirling camera glancing from face to face and following Bob down labyrinthine corridors until finally out of the darkness and onto the spotlight stage. Clapping and not screaming greets his songs and the relaxed and jokey style is a joy to watch. Not sure what my favourite bits are but apart from the stage songs there is a great exchange with a journalist from Time magazine and another with a university student/interviewer. Probably best for me, though, was the turn with Donovan who bravely performs a song in front of Dylan and his entourage to quiet appreciate and some success. But, Dylan then borrows his guitar and replies with a devastating performance of It's All Over Now Baby Blue. It wasn't over for Donovan for a few more years but it is still not yet over for the amazingly creative, Bob Dylan.

Do you know that feeling when a song captures you completely? One minute there's all these thoughts running around in your head and the next minute someone switches the radio on and it's kinda like it screams, STOP!You can feel it. You let your whole being be absorbed by it. You're on a high. Then you catch your breath . . . Bob Dylan, as depicted in Don't Look Back, is the kind of megastar that can grip you emotionally and intellectually. While their neighbours joined screaming mobs that bayed at the Beatles, Bob Dylan fans listen in rapt silence, taking in every word."How many times must the cannon balls fly - Before they're forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind."He inhabits a hallowed quality. Anti-war protesters, educated and disenchanted youth, all see him as their hero. An emblem of hope. Dylan inspired people. Made them feel they could make a difference. Somehow make it a better world.It was also the Swinging Sixties. Music videos hadn't been invented. In cinema, TV commercials director Richard Lester had kicked off a style of pop musical with the Beatles in A Hard Day's Night (1964). Andy Warhol projected live footage of a band to heighten a live performance (The Velvet Underground and Nico, 1966). Whereas for the opening scene of D.A. Pennebaker's film, Don't Look Back, a deadpan Dylan simply discards one large white card after another. They contain random words from the overlaid soundtrack song, Subterranean Homesick Blues.That scene has been copied and parodied. Like the kiss-on-the-beach-at-the-edge-of-the-waves in From Here To Eternity, far more people know of and recognise the scene than have ever seen the film. Words are deliberately misspelt. Alan Ginsberg haunts the background as if he's wandered in from another film lot. The scene became one of the first 'music videos'. And the film became one of the early examples of fly-on-the-wall cinema.Don't Look Back is one of the important movies of the decade for its development of cinema verité, a documentary style with many offshoots but at that point made possible with the new lightweight cameras and sound recorders. These were less intrusive and meant that events could be recorded in a way less staged, the filmmakers having opportunity to follow subjects down corridors or seemingly eavesdrop on conversations.Don't Look Back follows Bob Dylan through his most iconic phase, dark glasses and leather jacket, on his 1965 UK tour at the height of his fame. (He is about to dispense with a rustic folksy style and upset fans by embracing rock and roll and electric guitars.) It is the Bob Dylan so cryptically emulated by Cate Blanchett in I'm Not There. This is the legend. And the man who became a legend in his own lifetime, constantly reinventing his poetry. He would one day be awarded a special Pulitzer Prize for his "profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power." Not to mention an honorary degree from the prestigious St Andrews University in Scotland.The follow-the-tour format is a little like In Bed With Madonna. But the immediacy of the film foreshadow movies like Control. Stark black and white photography and a personality that dominates the screen without even trying. Joan Baez (who was near the end of an affair with Dylan) is singing in a hotel room. Dylan looks up with rapt attention (and obvious admiration) for the shy young folk singer Donovan. And clips from his sell-out Albert Hall concert. Throughout – and in sharp contrast to almost everyone else captured in all their bygone sixties primness – Dylan still looks cool and self-assured in his own skin even by 21st century standards. Somehow his image hasn't aged.There was something almost mystical about Dylan at the time. Press conferences in the film (that would also be re-staged later in I'm Not There) show journalists nonplussed by the youngsters response. News stories marvel at how thousands of well-behaved youngsters are packing concert halls – in essence to listen to several hours of one man's poetry. His lyrics, ranging from poignant stories to stream-of-consciousness collections, were emotionally resonant with metaphors and phrases that could be appropriated to every person's private suffering, every cry of pain behind anti-establishment (and particularly anti-war) sentiments. Dylan never claimed to be any other than a poet and a guitarist. "I got nothing to say about these things I write – I just write them . . . I don't write them for any reason. There's no message." His almost angry 1960s disclaimer in the film will still be uttered almost 40 years later at great length in his Chronicles biography. No-one wanted to believe he was only interested in writing poetry. But his openness and honesty in facing down critics is disarming.For non-music fans and people not specifically interested in the period, the film has slightly less to offer. Poor definition on many hand-held shots gives a lack of visual elegance. The lack of any voice-over means the viewer has to work out many details themselves. And, while it is a remarkable and very vibrant portrait of an esteemed artists at one of the most famous and influential periods of his career, there are maybe too few songs for fans.Dylan would go on to win Grammy, Golden Globe and Academy Awards and receive several Nobel Prize nominations for literature. The film stops long before he had achieved such mainstream critical acclaim. It never features him singing the credits song, Subterranean Homesick Blues, or the song from which the title is taken. Ironically, it looks back to a period he himself had abandoned by the time the film was released.

D.A. Pennebaker does something different with this clearly- and probably slightly revolutionary- approach to form of cinema verite approach that has as much to do with directorial choice as it does with lack of any budget, and trying to use the best of an all-access-pass to the behind the scenes with an iconoclast like Bob Dylan. As far as I can tell, and maybe it's something sort of naive, there doesn't seem to be an inherent bias on part of the filmmaker. A director of a documentary usually, and most often effectively, will have some kind of subjectivity, or something to say with the collection of interviews and the subject matter. But we never really see Pennebaker skewering either side or the other. For whatever one might perceive to see in Bob Dylan from this time capsule, a man at 23 who was swarmed by media buzz and an acclaim that was staggering (and, from the start for Dylan, more than a bit of a crock), it can't be said that Pennebaker is being unfair to anyone here, not to Donovan or the press or whoever it was that broke that glass in the street.And least of all to Dylan himself; it's because of a stripped-down, bare-boned approach to film-making with a camera in a room getting down the beats- only once does Pennebaker go to a 'flashback' of sorts- that one can't truly and easily pin down what Dylan's all about. And because of the questions raised about the nature of a young artist in a frenzied environment where the pressure to be one thing, i.e. 'folk hero', 'voice of a generation', et all, it's really not simply one of the best rock documentaries, but one of the more insightful, strangely involving documentaries of the past 50 years. We see the fun moments; Dylan having laughs with his fellow musicians or playing guitar with Joan Baez or others; the quiet moments like writing a song on the typewriter; we see the interviewers perplexed at the thought that they're getting prodded by a subject who can disarm their queries at nearly every turn either, arguably, by a stand-offish quality, or just not knowing how to logically answer a question without sounding untruthful. And then the music, on stage, sort of alone in a way with the audience tuned into every word he says as though he's a golden calf.Many scenes are simply fun, experimental. The opening to the film is like a punk rock music video, as Dylan just stands there, awkward and blank-faced, turning over the cards for Subterranean Homesick Blues, with Ginsberg at the end walking across the alley Dylan was standing on. Seeing Dylan with an acute sense of humor is refreshing, and at times it's almost like he uses it as a defense mechanism, as a means of uncertainty to go through fans and the like (the scene with the science student has been described by some as Dylan being simply bullying, but again there seems to not really be any bias- Pennebaker could make this guy look like the fool, but each side is heard, and whoever comes out the wiser once the conversation ends is anyone's call). It might go without saying, however, that some of the material in the film could use some context: Dylan had to go under the same sort of press attention and questions every time, over and over, which was something that Dylan could never really adjust to like other celebrities or popular musicians. Hence a scene like the heated talk with the TIME news reporter; if one knows nothing of Dylan, it might make him seem hostile, or at least uncomfortable. But even with this one sees the nature of an interview where there isn't balance- TIME hasn't listened to much of Dylan's music, and Dylan already has a bias against the magazine for, according to him, not printing the truth as it could. "Do you care about what you do?" the interviewer asks him, to which Dylan takes umbrage. It's almost like watching a loop, where neither side will give in exactly, and it's too complex to tell which side is really wrong or right. Questions between them lead to the audience bringing up questions: is this 'folk hero' really a jerk? Is there some truth to his ranting? What about the generation gap? It's a perplexing scene that is, in its tense manner, spectacular.But as many will want to see in Don't Look Back is the music, the mood of the man who's life was work. It's interesting to see Dylan, in context, on the precipice of his transition from folk to rock, starting a slight disconnect with the folk scene with a few fellow band-mates on the tour, and yet always at his peak playing the same songs he'd played repeatedly for the past few years (Times They Are A'Changin is the same opening number on every date of the tour). There are many pure moments of spontaneous music (Joan Baez singing Turn Turn Turn, and Dylan with It's Alright Ma, I'm only Bleeding ), and practically all the stage stuff, including Hard Rain's Gonna Fall and Blowin in the Wind, two of the most atypical of his songs. At the same time one sees and hears someone like Bob Dylan at the peak of his powers in the 60s, there's the observant dissection of fame- even through Pennebaker's technical imperfections of a loud camera- and if only a small taste of the 'why' that Dylan couldn't ever really be himself, and if so wedged somewhere in a quasi-persona. Don't Look Back is amazing.