| DVDylan ID: | D613 |
| Recording type: | ProShot |
DYLAN IN THE MADHOUSE
It was the coldest winter on record, Britain was frosty and grey. Millions of milk bottles were burried in snow drifts, Cliff was number one, and there were two TV channels and three radio stations (all BBC). This was the world a 21-year-old Dylan entered when he visited London for the first time in December 1962, having never left America before.
| Number of discs: | 1 |
| Authoring: | DVDs with menu and chapters are circulating |
Arena documentary. Aired in September 2005.
D613 BBC BOB DYLAN SEASON VOLUME III ~ DYLAN IN THE MADHOUSE
Dylan In The Madhouse was first shown on Wednesday 28 September 2005 on BBC Four as part of the Corporation's eight-day Dylan Season. The programme, presented here in pristine quality, runs 65 minutes and tells its slight but intriguing tale in remarkably languid and discursive style. A five minute opening title-sequence sets the pace. (It also tries, with apparently sincere provocation, to equate the BBC's incineration of the Madhouse tapes in 1968 with other major world events of that year, such as the Kennedy assassination or the ongoing tragedy in Vietnam!) I can well imagine viewers either loving or loathing this film’s repeated deployment of archive footage of a snowbound Britain (for in fact the weather really has no direct bearing on the facts of the matter under consideration). If you're a Briton who either lived through these times or has an active interest in your country's recent history, it will probably enchant you, as it did me. If less bound by ties of time or place, on the other hand, you may well find yourself decidedly underwhelmed by what is first and foremost a very padded or very fascinating (depending on your point of view) trip down Memory Lane. To take one small example, I can relate to shots of Harry Worth, Sooty & Sweep or Pinky & Perky - but foreign or younger UK viewers, on reading these names, will surely scratch their heads. The film also seems to delight in tripping off down meandering cul-de-sacs - as in the two Seegers / Ewan McColl sequence - which, though mildly diverting to be sure, serve little or no story-telling function. We learn perhaps more about the play itself - its theme, according to the writer being "what civilisation does to the tender-hearted" - than we need to know (for it doesn’t sound very good). And then there's Bob's small part in proceedings. The hunt for and location of audio footage of his performances is the spine on which all this flesh loosely hangs. This element of the story could have been told in ten minutes with time to spare. The programme keeps a nice 60 second surprise back until the end credits, the sight of which some will welcome, others rue.
Two fine-looking clips, each lasting only a few seconds, from the fabled '69 Isle of Wight gig whet the appetite for more substantial reclamations from the shrouded past than this film provides. We can but hope. As for what's here, I see it as a charming period piece of tangential Dylan interest. I suspect other views will differ sharply, and in both directions. That's as it should be. Enjoy if you can.
THANKS Jam Tart
STARS Four
Reviewed by Jim50 on 26th October 2005