So, given that the overcrowded soundtrack of I'm Not There reads like the doorlist of a Pitchfork party, i
t's a little surprising how few stand-out music moments there are. What isn't surprising, however, is that most such moments belong to Bob Dylan himself—a testament to how well his music is withstanding the test of time. His voice still doesn't sound like anyone else's and it slices through even the most meandering moments of I'm Not There.
Whether you think this film is sheer genius or, like me, found it too self-conscious for that, I'd still argue that the simple aesthetic experience of listening to bunch of Dylan tunes while watching Haynes' well composed shots is a worthwhile one.
Plus, there are a few film-music moments worth mentioning:
Moment #1.The kid Dylan visits Woody Guthrie in the hospital to the tune of Dylan's "Blind Willie McTell," a song that Dylan based on "St. James Infirmary Blues"—a song so tightly bound up in the history of American folk music that the writer Rob Walker has collected thousands of pages of information about it, along with dozens of versions by everyone from Cab Calloway to The Devil Makes Three. Such a storied tune is apt for the moment when Dylan comes face to face with his musical idol—a giant of the American folk scene—and it's gritty, downcast tone is just right for the dingy hospital where Guthrie is living out the last of his days in near anonymity.
Moment #2.The surreal music-video-within-a-film to Dylan's "Ballad of a Thin Man." This scene is clearly a tribute on Haynes' part to the 1970 film Performance, and a lyrically perfect choice for the moment in the film when Dylan realizes he's having an identity crisis.
Moment #3.The jailbreak scene in which the Old West vagabond Dylan is sprung by an ironmonger and flees on a passing train. It's all done to "I'm Not There," and works well as the theme for Dylan's general reluctance to be pinned down to any particular incarnation of himself. Aside from the song being a cue from Haynes that this is a pivotal scene, it also just sounds absolutely superb.
Moment #4. And finally, the show-stealer, and the sole cover that really stands up and out among Dylan's work in this film, "Goin' to Acapulco," as sung by Jim James of My Morning Jacket, backed by Calexico. James himself appears in the film, looking like a luckless prospector in a fictional town called Riddle and singing his heart out in the middle of the bandstand while flanked by a pretty, Wisconsin Death Trip-style corpse. Even amidst the most contrived story line in this movie, James' performance alone would be worth the ticket price. Like Dylan, he is singular and soulful and isn't saving anything for the trip back. He's just out there, doing it.
Here's the full soundtrack information, as brought to you by the Playlist blog.
And here's a live performance of Jim Jones doing "Goin' to Acapulco" that someone captured on their cellphone or something:


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