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Christian Bale plays Jack Rollins, a rising star in the folk music world, soon to be cursed with the title "Voice of a Generation." When Jack Rollins opens his mouth to let the vocals of rocker Stephen Malkmus ring out, most viewers will be oblivious to Bale's perfect lip-synch. It's too bad Bale's exceptional performance will be overshadowed by the showier performance that comes next.

Heath Ledger as Robbie

Later, Bale will return as the Artist who fled from the spotlight into the comforts of 1970s evangelical Christianity, and became "Pastor John." But even the church let him down, becoming another stifling community eager to exploit him as a model of musical missionary work. (If any chapter of Dylan's career gets short shrift here, it's this one.)

In the film's most talked-about bit of "stunt casting," Cate Blanchett plays Jude Quinn, resembling the mid-'60s Dylan. It's a brilliant move—Blanchett's uncanny performance shows us how Dylan's public persona became an extension of his art, full of riddles, metaphor, evasion, and comedy. This is the Dylan of Don't Look Back, who evolved in ways that upset fans who wanted to claim him as their political or cultural representative.

When Quinn gets onstage at a folk revival, plugs in electric guitars, and growls "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more," it's clear that he's chasing his vision no matter what the cost. The audience, feeling betrayed, hurt, and outraged, walks away convinced that their hero has sold out. One fan staggers away, profoundly observing, "He's not like he was."

In one memorable moment, Quinn and Alan Ginsberg (David Cross) clown around in front of a statue of Christ on the cross. But they're not being sacrilegious. They're mimicking the ridiculous cries of the masses, who misunderstand Dylan the way Christ's audience misunderstood him. Elsewhere, in a sequence as surreal as a music video, Quinn sneers and spits out a performance of "Mr. Jones," staring laser beams into the arrogant, condescending BBC journalist who persecutes him.

Heath Ledger plays Robbie, a singer striving to turn his musical success into a legend-making Hollywood breakthrough. Robbie's scenes offer interpretations of Dylan's personal relationships, marriage, fatherhood, and heartbreak. Acting like the heir-apparent to James Dean's rebel throne, he loses touch with his beloved Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), who is also the mother of his children. Ledger is impressive, but Gainsbourg almost steals the movie as the woman who cannot hold on to the locomotive she has married.

Richard Gere as Billy

Finally, Richard Gere is the reclusive "Mr. B," a retired Billy the Kid on the run from lawmen with grudges. In this, the most fanciful thread, the Artist retreats from fame and celebrity only to find that the Enemy has grown too powerful, laying waste to the wilderness where he's been trying to hide. In the town of Halloween—part wild west movie set, part circus—a villainous lawman confronts the Artist again, and he has a familiar face.

I'm Not There also boasts some memorable supporting turns. Julianne Moore plays the equivalent of Joan Baez, hilariously pretentious as she recounts her memories. Bruce Greenwood is brilliant as the manifestations of the Enemy, most of them condescending, arrogant journalists. And David Cross is hilarious as Alan Ginsberg.

Haynes' kaleidoscopic style packs in so many clever references to Dylan trivia that longtime fans will nod, gasp, and laugh out loud. (Do you know what that tarantula represents?) Those who only know a handful of Dylan songs may wonder what's fact, what's fiction, and why it matters. Aesthetically, Haynes references Dylan's own big screen ventures, like Don't Look Back and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, as well as films that Dylan apparently admired, like 8½. Much of the dialogue is drawn straight from interviews, live footage, and Dylan's own cinematic projects (the good and the bad).

Instead of aiming to please with a soundtrack full of hits, Haynes makes surprising selections from the Dylan catalog. Sure, "Like a Rolling Stone" gets prominent play, but a track from the official Dylan Bootleg collection—"Blind Willie McTell"—brings out beauty and soul in one of the film's more moving passages. Other masterful songs like "It's Not Dark Yet" and "Man in the Long Black Coat" are used more like traditional soundtrack music, more for mood than meaning.

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