The real pleasure in watching this film--and I cannot claim that it is a noble one--is feeling superior to those in the theatre who really thought they were seeing a Walk the Line or Ray and were baffled and disappointed that they didn't actually see a Dylan film. The Dylan fiend gets to say, "Oh, you poor dear, you didn't understand the machine gun scene? Well, you're not much of a Dylan fan, are you."
Dylan fans relish in that sort of thing. They (we) horde bootlegs and brag about having short clips from obscure concert moments. It's a strange sort of fandom, but for no good goddamn reason, it flourishes.
I enjoyed the film as a sort of inside joke circle jerk, but I can see why some might not be impressed.
Overrated. Both the film and its subject.
I gauge people's worth as human beings by their opinion of Dylan.
That being said, the movie was interesting not as a glorification of Dylan but as an object itself. To see someone build such an elaborate shrine to a man who does little more than write fantastic music is an experience in itself.
It was certainly elaborate, but I was left feeling I'd witnessed a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing.
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