A Complete Unknown (2024) Movie Script

1
[announcer] Ladies and
gentlemen, Woody Guthrie.
[folk music plays, Woody
Guthrie "Dusty Old Dust"]
[radio announcer
speaking indistinctly]
...will take some pressure
off the kicking department...
and Packers star kicker
Paul Hornung.
For the NFC Eastern Conference
New York Giants...
they'll be in their
away uniforms,
white jerseys
with red numerals,
blue helmets,
and silver football pants.
The Giants are eight and three
at this stage of the season.
Y.A. Tittle
is in at quarterback
as usual for the Giants.
[man] Thank you.
[indistinct chatter]
[upbeat instrumental music
playing]
[indistinct chatter]
He sang a country song,
that doesn't mean
he's not still a Catholic
or a Communist.
[man 1] You're boxin' him in.
You don't think
there's a difference
between folk music
and country music?
[indistinct conversation]
[man 2] I didn't ask you
to box him in.
Nobody asked you
to box him in.
You did that.
I asked you a question,
you answered a question.
There you go.
All right. That's it.
That's enough for me.
I'm off. Good night.
Hey, mister,
you know where this place is?
Called Greystone.
I think Woody Guthrie's
in there.
That's a, uh, hospital, pal.
In Morris Plains.
Where is that? Uptown?
No.
Woody's across the river
in New Jersey.
Christ, I just came
from New Jersey.
[man 2] So go back.
[federal court clerk]
All rise.
Mr. Seeger,
do you have anything to say
before I pronounce
your sentence?
In my whole life, I've never
said or done anything
subversive to my country,
Your Honor.
That's not why I'm here.
I'm here because
some second-rate politician
from Louisiana...
decided that he don't like
a song I sang...
[audience murmuring
in agreement]
...or maybe he don't like
some of the folks
I might have sung it to.
Mr. Seeger,
a jury has found you guilty
of contempt of Congress.
I refused to name names
and I...
Refused questions!
Under a federal subpoena!
Your Honor, you may know
a friend of mine,
Woody Guthrie.
Great songwriter
and a great American,
and Woody's not well...
but he's been much on my mind
as I've been
going through this,
'cause Woody once said that,
"a good song
can only do good."
[man 1] That's right!
And the song I'm in hot water
for here, it's a good song.
It's a patriotic song,
in fact.
[man 2] Amen!
And I thought,
maybe you'd like to actually
hear the words,
and I could play it for you.
-And you'll know.
-No, no, no.
-No, you're not doing that.
-[audience clapping]
-[gavel banging]
-Quiet!
-I said, quiet!
-Are you sure? It's free.
[audience cheering]
Now, look at that,
the skies are clearing, see?
[reporter 1] Pete! Pete! Pete!
[reporter 2] Pete,
are you disappointed?
[reporter 3]
Think you got a fair shake?
[reporter 2]
Wish you'd testified, Pete?
[reporter 1] How do you feel
about the judgement?
[Pete]
We didn't get the result
that we thought was right,
but we're free to fight
another day.
I offered to play a song for
the judge up there
but he didn't wanna hear it.
But I feel like singing.
So, I'm gonna sing it for you.
You know the words.
[all]
This land is your land
This land is my land
From California
To the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest
To the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made
for you and me
[song ends]
That's all you got?
-Yeah.
-[taxi driver sighs]
[indistinct chatter]
[bucket scraping loudly]
[Pete]
...been good to know yuh
So long,
it's been good to know yuh
So long,
it's been good to know yuh
This dusty old dust
It's takin' me home
And I've gotta be
driftin' along
Hello.
Excuse me, Mr. Guthrie.
Well, no one calls him that
except the government.
I'm not the government.
Well, come on over, then.
I'm Pete, by the way.
Yes, sir.
No question about it.
How about you?
I'm Bobby.
Something come after that?
[Woody grunting]
Dylan.
Uh, Woody would like to know
more about that, Bobby Dylan.
Oh, um...
I sing and I... I play,
and I write songs, actually,
a couple of friends of mine,
Paul and John,
out in Minneapolis.
Midwestern boy?
Yeah, and they showed me
some of
Woody's records, uh,
Folkway ones.
Yours and Lead Belly and,
uh...
I listened to 'em while they
struck me down to the ground.
I like yours, too, Pete.
Oh, that's fine.
Anyways, uh,
Paul, my friend, uh,
he said you was
in the hospital, so...
I hitched myself here.
Why is that?
Well, I wanted to meet Woody.
Maybe catch a spark.
[Woody grunts]
[chuckling]
That's for damn sure.
[Woody coughing]
We had those printed up
for visitors. [chuckles]
It's mostly family now,
though.
Uh,
Woody wants to hear something.
You shy?
Not usually.
[Woody coughing]
[guitar case thuds]
[strums guitar]
Well, this is one
I wrote for him.
Uh...
I wrote for you.
[folk music playing,
Bob Dylan "Song to Woody"]
I'm out here a thousand
miles from my home
I'm walkin' a road
other men have gone down
I'm seein' your world
of people and things
Your paupers
And peasants
and princes and kings
Hey, hey, Woody Guthrie,
I wrote you a song
'Bout a funny ol' world
that's a-comin' along
Seems sick and it's hungry
It's a-tired, it's torn
It looks like
It's dyin'
and it's a-hardly been born
Hey, hey, Woody Guthrie
But I know that you know
All the things I'm sayin'
and a-many times more
I'm a-singin' you this song
But I can't sing enough
'Cause there's not
Many men that done
the things that you've done
Here's to Cisco,
and Sonny and Leadbelly too
And to all those good people
That traveled with you
Here's to the hearts
and the hands of the men
That come
With the dust and are gone
with the wind
-[music stops]
-[Woody bangs table]
Do you mind?
Oh, no.
[radio announcer]
Suspected of collaborating
with the Vietcong...
[radio station changes]
[Little Richard]
Slippin' and a-slidin'
Peepin' and a-hidin'
Been told a long time ago
It's Little Richard.
I been told, baby
You been bold...
That's the flipside on
Long Tall Sally.
You like that
rock and roll music, then?
Well, I like everything, Pete.
Except maybe, uh,
Patti Page and
That Doggie in the Window
-or, you know, Vaughn Monroe.
-[laughs]
I like Johnny Cash.
You ever hear of him?
Oh, sure.
Yeah, I like Hank Williams.
Ah, now you're talking.
Yeah.
But if you're talking about
rock and roll, specifically,
you gotta be talking about
Buddy Holly.
You think of yourself
as a folk musician now,
though. Yeah?
Well, I don't think to myself
as a folk singer,
you know, folk music thing.
I mean, I do sing folk music,
but when I do, it's sort of a
modified version or something.
You know,
not a modified version,
it's just, you know, sorta...
A good song.
A really good song.
It can get the job done
without the frills.
Without drums or electrified
instruments or any of that.
Yeah, but sometimes
they sound good.
[engine stops]
[car door closes]
[Pete] Hey, Tosh.
This is Bobby,
fellow traveler.
He, uh, paid a visit to Woody
and he had nowhere to sleep.
All right.
Hi, Bob.
-Toshi.
-Hello.
[Pete] Now,
we finally got a drill
hard enough to get through
all this rock
and now we got water
like a Swiss hotel.
We'll set you up here.
I snore and Toshi kicks me
out here all the time
so, I can vouch
it's comfortable.
The toilet's off
the hall there.
It's a new composter.
It's amazing.
It doesn't smell just...
-[Danny] Yes, it does.
-Smells so bad!
Yes, it does. It smells awful!
[Pete] Go to bed, go to bed.
Traitors. All of you.
Bobby, can you go outside
to smoke?
Oh, sorry.
If you get cold, just throw
that Indian blanket over you.
[Toshi] Is he going to bed?
He'll settle down.
He's just...
excited because he met
one of his heroes tonight.
Not me, Woody.
[guitar music plays,
"Girl from the North Country"]
He played us a hell of a song.
Here's your pancake.
[Tinya] Thank you.
If you're travelin' to
the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy
On the borderline
Remember me
To the one who lives there
For she once was
A true love of mine
I'm wondering
If she remembers me at all
Many times
I've often prayed
In the darkness
of my night
In the brightness
of my day
[music stops]
That's all I got so far.
Good start.
Now, those of you
who can't sing that low,
we're gonna make you sopranos.
You sing...
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh
Try it.
[all] A-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh
-A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh
-Very delicate,
-very nice.
-A-wim-a-weh
-A-wim-a-weh
-Add back in the low.
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
Hey-up-oh-a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
Hey-up-oh-a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
A-bum-buh-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
Hey-up-oh-a-wim-a-weh
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
A-bum-buh-weh
-Hey-up-oh-a-wim-a-weh
-Hey-o, hey-o, hey-o
A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh,
a-wim-a-weh
Hey-o-bum-buh-weh
-Hey-up-oh-a-wim-a-weh
-Hey-o, hey-o, hey-o
-A-wim-a-weh, a-wim-a-weh
-Hey oh-oh
-A-wim-a-weh
-Hey!
[audience cheering]
All right.
I'm gonna get you out there.
I am.
[man 1] Joan!
Have a great show!
[woman] Miss Baez!
[man 2] It's her, it's her!
Miss Baez. Hey, Miss Baez.
-It's Joan.
-Joan.
[crowd clamoring]
Wait.
Can you sign this for me?
[mumbles]
[man reading] "Baez sends one
scurrying to the thesaurus
"for superlatives."
That's the New York Times,
Joanie.
Bob Shelton is a fan.
Five minutes, Joan.
Bob Shelton's back,
he's at the bar.
So is John Hammond.
Joanie.
Columbia Records.
I have a label and a manager.
Columbia's not a label...
Columbia is Mount Rushmore.
Tony Bennett,
Johnny Mathis, Doris Day,
Miles Davis.
They have everyone
except their folk singer.
-Albert.
-Mm-hmm.
Please leave.
[Albert inhales sharply]
Other girls strum,
Tito, they smile.
Not Joanie.
She acts depressed,
looks at her shoes,
makes men crazy.
[applauding in distance]
[footsteps receding]
[folk music plays, Joan Baez
"House Of The Rising Sun"]
If I had listened
To what my mother said
I'd have been
At home today
But I was young
And foolish, oh, God
Let a rambler
Lead me astray
Go tell
My baby sister
Don't do
What I have done
But shun that house
In New Orleans
They call
The Rising Sun
I'm going back
To New Orleans
My race is almost run
I'm going back
To spend my life
Beneath
That Rising
Sun
[audience cheering]
Thank you.
All right. See you, John.
Joan Baez.
Miss Joanie, Joanie.
That was terrific.
Thanks, Pete.
Hey, this is my friend, Bobby.
-Hey.
-Oh.
-Nice work.
-Thanks.
[announcer] And now,
a special guest
is going to introduce
open mic tonight.
Don't run. I ain't passing
the basket tonight.
[all laughing]
A voice we already know,
and love...
Mr. Pete Seeger!
[audience cheering]
All right, all right.
Month or so ago, uh,
Woody and I met a young man.
He kinda just dropped in on us
and he sang us a song.
Well, it fairly struck us
to the ground.
And Woody and I felt that
maybe we were
getting a glimpse of
a new road.
This young man, he's been
playing around town a bit
but I thought it was high time
he took the stage
at Folk City.
So, I want you to give a warm
welcome to Bob Dylan.
[all applauding]
[Bob] All right. Cheers.
Oh, man.
All right, thanks, folks.
Thanks, Pete. That's, uh...
Boy, that's a lot
to live up to.
Uh. Well... [clears throat]
[playing harmonica]
I hope this goes better
than it did
in East Orange, New Jersey.
-[all laughing]
-[playing harmonica]
[man 1] I'm from New Jersey!
How 'bout that Joan Baez,
folks?
-[man 2] Yeah!
-[audience cheering]
[strumming guitar]
She's pretty good.
And she's pretty.
Sings pretty.
Maybe a little too pretty.
[Bob chuckles]
Anyway, here's a lil'
something I wrote.
I hope you think it's good.
It's gotta be good
for somebody.
I was young
when I left home
And I've been
a-ramblin' round
And I never wrote a letter
to my home
To my home
Lord, to my home
No, I never wrote a letter
To my home
It was just the other day
I was bringin' home my pay
When I met an old friend
I used to know
Said, "Your mother's dead
and gone"
Sister's all gone wrong
And your daddy
needs you home
Right away
Not a shirt on my back
Not a penny on my name
[Albert] He has originals,
too, you know.
And I can't go home
thisaway
Thisaway
-He's very good, isn't he?
-Yeah.
He's my client.
Lord, Lord, Lord
And I can't go home
thisaway
[playing harmonica]
-[music stops]
-[audience cheering]
What does two o'clock
mean to you?
'Cause I'll tell you what
it means to John Hammond.
-It means two fucking o'clock!
-[Bob] All right. Okay.
And right now,
it's five minutes past three.
-Are you packin' heat, Albert?
-Get outta here.
That looks like a snub nose.
"Cross between a choirboy
and a beatnik.
"Mr. Dylan
has a cherubic look...
[elevator dings]
"...and a mop of
tousled hair..."
Stop, Albert.
I don't wanna hear this, man.
"Tousled hair
that he keeps beneath
a Huck Finn cap.
"His clothes need tailoring.
"But when he works his guitar
"there's no doubt
he's bursting at the seams
with talent.
-"His voice..."
-Hey!
A rave from The Times.
This is our floor.
-All right.
-Come on, come on, come on.
Okay, Bob.
Let's lay one down, yeah?
[Bob] Okay.
[studio engineer] C, O,
-seven-six-six-seven-one...
-[Bob clears throat]
Fixin' to Die, take one.
[strumming guitar]
Feelin' funny in my mind,
Lord
I believe
I'm fixin' to die
Feelin' funny in my mind,
Lord
I believe
I'm fixin' to die
-Well, I don't...
-[John] Hey, Bob.
Sorry.
Can we start again?
You keep turning from the mic.
-Oh, yeah. All right.
-[John] All right.
[studio engineer]
Fixin' to Die, take two.
Great.
[strumming guitar]
Feelin' funny in my mind,
Lord
I believe
I'm fixin' to die
He has originals, too,
you know,
and they're really good.
Traditional repertoire
for now, Albert.
We're putting a younger face
on folk.
Well,
everybody's got somethin'
That they're
lookin' forward to
I'm lookin' forward to when
I can do it all again
'Cause babe,
I'll do it all over you
Let me tell you
little lover
That you better run
for cover
'Cause babe,
I'll do it all over you
[playing harmonica]
-All right.
-[all cheering]
Thank you so much.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thanks for letting me play.
Thank you to Brownie,
and Sonny, especially.
I hope by God, I'll see
you guys again, bye-bye.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Bobby Dylan.
[all cheering]
That boy plays some harp.
People,
if you wanna go somewhere
and you don't have plane fare,
train fare, bus fare,
cab fare, no fare whatsoever.
There's one way of
gettin' there.
You just walk on.
[blues music playing]
[playing harmonica]
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on, I say walk on
I'm gonna keep on walkin'
Till I find my way
back home
How old are you?
You wrote those songs?
Yeah, last two.
You're good.
What, you mean for my age?
[chuckles softly]
[shushes]
[Brownie McGhee
continues singing]
Well, thanks.
Who's that guy?
That's Alan Lomax.
That's what he does.
He runs the Archive of
American Folk.
They record folk music.
How do you know so much?
-My sister works for him.
-Oh.
I'm gonna keep on walkin'
Till I find my way
back home
Walk on, Sonny boy
Walk on, boy
You want a peanut?
I used to live on these things
when I worked at the carnival.
You worked at the carnival?
Strongmen, fire-eaters.
Oh, one lady,
her skin was all burnt off.
She looked like a grown-up,
wrinkly baby.
-Ew! [laughs]
-Yeah.
It made me think about
people on stage,
about anyone who gets on
a stage, you know,
anyone's who's gonna hold
your attention on a stage.
Have to kinda be a freak.
Not everyone.
Anyone who's good.
Are you a freak?
Yeah, I hope so.
[Sylvie]
Frank Sinatra's not a freak.
[Bob] Well,
that voice ain't human.
You can be beautiful,
or you can be ugly,
but you can't be plain.
You gotta be something
people can't stop looking at,
like a train wreck
or a car crash.
Oh, you seen this?
No. I thought we were going to
see Guernica at the Museum.
Ah, Picasso's overrated.
You got a dollar?
Two for the matinee.
[classical romantic
music playing]
[Jerry] And will you be happy,
Charlotte?
Oh, Jerry,
don't let's ask for the moon.
We have the stars.
[music builds]
[indistinct chatter]
So...
Bette Davis was a mousy girl,
who had to escape
her domineering mother
to find herself.
-She runs away...
-"Find herself"?
-...becomes beautiful...
-I don't like that.
...returns home,
destroys her mom,
and adopts the child of a man
she can never have.
She didn't "find herself"
like her "self" was a missing
shoe or something.
She just made herself
into something different.
Something better.
Different.
Okay.
You know,
what she wanted to be,
in that moment.
What do you wanna be?
A musician.
Who eats.
Well, I like your songs.
My record comes out
in a couple weeks.
Some of the songs you played
today on your record?
Well, it's mostly covers.
Just traditional stuff.
You know,
folk songs are supposed to
stand the test of time,
like...
um, Shakespeare or something.
They say no one wants to hear
what a kid wrote last month.
Who's they?
Record company.
My manager.
I'm sorry,
but Where Have All the Flowers
Gone is not Shakespeare.
I mean,
there was a time when the
old songs were new, right?
Someone at some point had to
give the songs a chance.
I mean... [sighs]
There's a civil war going on
down south.
Biggest military buildup
in history.
Nuclear bombs hanging over us.
It's not all about
the Dust Bowl
and Johnny Appleseed anymore.
Monday to Thursday,
I'm at school.
Then I volunteer at CORE,
Fridays and Saturdays.
And I take a painting class
Sunday mornings in Queens.
What's CORE?
-Congress of Racial Equality.
-Oh, yeah.
We organized
the freedom rides.
All right.
This is me.
Dwight MacDonald wrote
a wonderful piece in here.
I think you'll like him.
He's contrarian, like you.
All right, I'll take a look.
What are you doin' tomorrow?
I told you my schedule.
Oh, yeah, painting. In Queens.
I'm at my mom's
in the afternoon.
Call me there?
[indistinct chatter]
[folk music plays over
speakers, "Silver Dagger"]
Hey there. Have you got
any more Joan Baez?
No, you got the last one.
[newscaster]
Amidst the resistance
from the Negro community,
Commissioner Connor
has vowed to stand firm.
Birmingham is home to
700 churches
and the Black churches serve
as the gathering spots...
Let us help you stimulate
your conscience.
-[crowd cheering]
-[speaking indistinctly]
["Silver Dagger"
continues playing]
[Sylvie]
I've been publishing it,
but the press
doesn't seem to notice.
Hi.
[postman] Package for,
uh, Zimmerman?
Oh, yeah. Thanks.
-[Bob humming]
-[pencil scribbling]
[continues humming]
You need to sleep, babe.
Yeah, I know.
[Bob]
Yes, and how many times
Can a man turn his head
And pretend
that he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend
Is blowin' in the wind
The answer
is blowin' in the wind
Yes, and how many times
-Must a man...
-That's enough!
-That's enough now!
-All right,
just let me finish the verse.
-Mr. Guthrie needs quiet now.
-[Woody coughing]
Whoa! You got a lotta nerve
taking a cigarette out
a man's mouth.
There is another gentleman
in this room,
and he's trying to rest.
You know,
he been resting six months.
I don't think it's workin'.
I'm trying to look out for
your health, Mr. Guthrie.
You know,
last guy let us sing.
Do I look like the last guy?
No, you look like
a bona fide asshole.
Whoa, easy, Bob.
Hello, George.
Mr. Guthrie is here for
treatment, Mr. Seeger.
-That's true, yeah.
-He has a serious disease,
and he's sharin' his room
with a guest.
Yeah, a guest in a coma!
George, reasonable people
can work these things out.
This is a hospital,
not a nightclub.
[Woody chuckling]
Well, I guess every deck come
with two jokers, don't it?
[Woody chuckling]
She's a new favorite.
I call her Jane.
I'm moving away
from the abstract a bit
and trying to move into faces.
[man 1]
What about Hank Williams, Tom?
In your estimable opinion,
is he country or folk?
-[Tom] He's country.
-It don't matter.
'Cause he got pedal steel
behind him?
[man 2] Bob, man,
you're telling me
there's no difference?
[Bob] Sylvie,
you gotta hear this, man.
[man 2] No, man.
You can call it country
or blues or rock and roll,
but we all keep rewriting
the same songs.
[indistinct conversation]
Are these his friends
from his circus days?
[Sylvie] Stop it, Gena.
Is his real name Zimmerman?
Move along.
[indistinct conversation]
[Bob chuckles softly]
[Jimmy Dean] Mr. Johnny Cash!
He started out
in country music
and sorta made
the transition over into pop.
Ain't no transition, man.
Gotta label him with
that corny bullshit, man.
[Sylvie] Please remember
garbage on Tuesdays.
Except if Monday's a holiday,
which it will be next week.
You got it.
[Sylvie] I have to do this.
It's a school trip,
it's required.
All right, you said that
already, like, three times.
It's only 12 weeks.
Well, God made the world
in six days.
So?
So, 12 weeks' a lot longer.
What am I supposed to do
with the extra 65 days?
Are you God, Bob?
How many times
do I have to say this?
Yes.
[both chuckle]
I think about how much
I'm gonna miss you...
then I realize...
I don't know you.
There's a face
on your driver's license.
He's different.
-Has a different name.
-Wow.
When I get back, I'd like to
get to know that guy.
Don't do this, Sylvie.
[Sylvie] You wrote
a five-minute song about
this girl in Minneapolis.
Who was that? What happened?
You tell me you dropped out
of college...
No, I didn't drop out
of college.
-I didn't say that.
-You came here
with nothing but a guitar.
You never talk about
your family,
your past,
besides the "carnival."
'Cause people make up
their past, Sylvie.
They remember what they want,
they forget the rest!
I tell you everything.
My folks, my sister,
the street I grew up on.
Yeah, I never asked you
about any of it.
What, you think
that stuff defines you?
What I come from?
What I want and what
I don't want, what I reject.
-Yes!
-Mm.
Good thing
you're going to Rome.
And then what?
I come back and live
with a mysterious minstrel?
[scoffs]
No, mysterious minstrels
sell more than 1,000 records.
Maybe just don't
come back at all.
[strumming guitar]
[car horn honking]
Oh, Christ, come on, Sylvie.
Stop hiding.
We both know you can't wait to
have your place to yourself.
[laughs] Jesus. Part of me.
Not all of me.
What? You want me to make
sense 100% of the time?
[Sylvie] There's a lot I want.
And you do too.
You're ambitious.
I think that scares you.
"The line has been drawn.
"The curse has been cast.
"The slow one
now will later be..."
Your record was
all other people's music.
[John F. Kennedy on TV]
Good evening,
my fellow citizens.
This government, as promised,
has maintained
the closest surveillance
of the Soviet military buildup
on the island of Cuba.
Within the past week,
unmistakable evidence
has established the fact
that a series of
offensive missile sites
is now in preparation
on that imprisoned island.
The purpose of these bases
can be none other
than to provide a nuclear
strike capability
against
the Western Hemisphere.
Upon receiving the first
preliminary hard information
last Tuesday morning
at 9:00 am...
[indistinct shouting]
...I directed that our
surveillance be stepped up.
It shall be the policy
of this nation
to regard any nuclear missile
launched from Cuba
against any nation
in the Western Hemisphere
as an attack
by the Soviet Union
on the United States
requiring a full
retaliatory response...
If invasion is undertaken
the Russians have said
that they would retaliate, uh,
with, uh, rocket fire.
We have said if there's
rocket fire from Cuba,
we will retaliate
and there goes
the whole ball game.
So, how do we relate Berlin
as the...
[Tinya] What's on TV?
[Walter] On the question of
immediate relief
or optimism here
that nobody in the White House
is willing to say...
-Pick up.
-[continues indistinctly]
-[car horns honking]
-Come on.
[Walter] They do not believe
that the 24 hours
of waiting is over.
There's still
considerable belief
that the confrontation
in the Caribbean
will come yet tonight.
[indistinct
radio announcement]
[newscaster]
No one can guarantee
that American families
on the eastern seaboard
will be alive tomorrow.
[indistinct shouting]
Hey!
-[horn honks]
-[man yells]
[man] Hey, taxi! Taxi! Taxi!
Hey! Come on!
[panting]
[audience clapping]
[Bob] Thank you.
This is a new one.
Come you masters of war
You that build
the big guns
You that build
the death planes
You that build
all the bombs
You hide in your mansion
While the young people's
blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
Let me ask you
one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you
forgiveness
Do you think
that it could?
I think you will find
When your death
takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back
your soul
And I'll watch
while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over
your grave
'Til I'm sure
that you're dead
[all applauding]
[woman] Thank you, Bob.
[Bob] Troubling time,
go find someone to love.
[newscaster]
American forces stand on edge
with naval ships positioned
throughout the Caribbean.
[indistinct chatter]
[gentle music playing]
[music fades]
The Unites States almost
went to nuclear war.
Perhaps no one will ever know
how close it came
except for Nikita Khrushchev
who apparently
had no illusions.
The feeling
in official Washington
after one of the most
frightening weeks in history,
is that it's too early
for elation
but not too early
to wonder what happened,
and why it happened.
Moscow, of course,
in the last 48 hours
has seemed contradictory
and zigzagged
as if the Kremlin were having
a great, private debate.
The I's are not dotted,
and the T's are not crossed,
but everything seems easier.
The mood here
is still cautious,
spelled with a capital C.
Khrushchev has offered to
remove his missiles from Cuba.
If he does, we will call off
the quarantine
and there will be no invasion.
The President today called
Khrushchev's decision
statesmanlike.
Has the United States made
a deal with Moscow?
The answer is no.
What, then,
is in this for Khrushchev?
There will be
no armed showdown,
there will be no nuclear war.
The Cuban problem
will still be there for us...
Well, that's that.
Now to the news...
[strumming guitar]
Who taught you to play?
Well, I taught myself really.
Picked up a few licks
at the carnival.
At the carnival?
Oh, yeah, there was singin'
cowboys that'd come through,
teach me all sorts of
funny chords.
Yeah, they'd pass through
in the shows
in, uh, Kansas or Dakotas.
Yeah, these chords I learned
from a cowboy
named Wigglefoot.
You were in a carnival?
You are so completely
full of shit.
I had lessons as a kid,
you know, normal lessons.
I write too.
I'm not sure
there's a way to learn that.
Too hard.
Excuse me?
You try too hard.
To write.
Really?
Yeah, if you're askin'.
I wasn't.
Sunsets and seagulls.
Smell of buttercups.
Your songs are like
an oil painting
at the dentist's office.
You're kind of an asshole,
Bob.
Yeah, I guess.
Play this.
[folk music playing,
"Blowin' In The Wind"]
How many roads
must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas
must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps
in the sand?
Yes and how many times
Must the cannon balls fly
Before they are
forever banned?
The answer, my friend
Is blowin' in the wind
The answer is
blowin' in the wind
How many years
must a mountain exist
Before it is washed
to the sea?
How many years
can some people exist
Before they're allowed
to be free?
Yes, and how many times
Can a man turn his head
[both] Pretend that
he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend
Is blowin' in the wind
The answer is
blowin' in the wind
How many times
must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
How many ears
must one man have
Before he can hear
people cry?
Yes and how many deaths
Will it take 'til he knows
That too many people
have died?
The answer, my friend
Is blowin' in the wind
The answer is
blowin' in the wind
[music stops]
So, this is...
What?
I don't know.
Have you recorded that song?
No, not yet.
[Joan]
You should let me try it.
[Bob] Okay. Oh, shit.
All right, I gotta go.
Yeah, I gotta go. Sorry.
-Hey!
-Hi!
-Here, I'll take that.
-Oh, how beautiful.
-How you doin'?
-[both] Mwah!
-Thank you, baby.
-Yes!
-You okay?
-Here, I'll take your stuff.
-Okay. [chuckles]
-Yeah.
Welcome home.
Did you teach yourself
to make coffee?
Oh, yeah.
[Sylvie laughs]
[folk music playing, "Don't
Think Twice, It's All Right"]
It ain't no use to sit
and wonder why, babe
If'n you don't know by now
And it ain't no use
To sit and wonder why, babe
It'll never do somehow
When your rooster crows
at the break of dawn
Who... Who wrote this?
-Look out your window
-He did.
And I'll be gone
[camera shutter clicking]
You're the reason
I'm a-travelin' on
-Hey, uh, Sylvie, get in here.
-[Sylvie] What?
[Sylvie squeals]
[camera shutter clicking]
We look good?
And it ain't no use
in turnin' on your light
Babe
The light
I never knowed
And it ain't no use
in turning on your light
I'm on the dark side
of the road
Still, I wish there was
somethin' you could
Do or say
Make me wanna change
my mind and stay
We never did
too much talking anyway
Don't think twice,
it's all right
[Albert] Excuse me, yeah!
That's it.
Get the master at work here.
The whole laboratory.
-Albert!
-Yes, sir.
I don't want 'em to
shoot my desk, man.
[Albert] Pal, what did I say
to you? No desk.
-You can plug that here.
-[Albert] What did I say?
No, Sylvie,
don't bring 'em in here.
I didn't bring them, Bob,
you did.
They're here for you.
That for Woody?
Yeah, I'm gonna drop it off
on the way to the airport.
Here. Put your finger there.
["Don't Think Twice It's
All Right" plays on radio]
-Is that Joan?
-Yeah.
So, she's covering your song?
Yeah.
Before your version comes out?
Albert thinks it helps.
Helps her.
Helps him sign her.
She's famous, Sylvie.
Been on the cover of
Time Magazine.
They recorded her live.
She didn't know they were
gonna put it on the radio.
'Course not.
So, you gave her the song.
I didn't give her the song.
Bobby,
we're ready over here, pal.
You're gonna see her
in California?
Well, it's her festival.
[kisses]
[Albert] Okay,
he's all set up here.
I'm just tryin' to
get on a plane
and do a show, Sylvie.
[Albert] Okay, right here.
You're in the shot,
sweetheart.
["Don't Think Twice It's
All Right" continues playing]
Hey, there.
[music stops]
It's a great place, Joan.
[strumming guitar]
Want me to show you the rest?
[Bob] Okay.
This what you're playing
these days?
Top string got
a little buzz to it.
[strums guitar]
Not when I play it.
The new record is beautiful.
You think?
[Joan chuckles]
If you're travelin'
in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy
On the borderline
Remember me
To the one who lives there
For she once was
A true love of mine
Please see
if her hair hangs long
[audience cheering]
If it rolls and flows all
Down her breast
Please see for me
if her hair hangs long
For that's the way
I remember her best
[audience clapping]
[playing harmonica]
[Bob] Hello. Um...
John Hammond said
you had somethin' for me.
My name is...
I know who you are.
-One moment.
-Okay.
-Oh, boy.
-Fan letters. [chuckles]
All right. Thanks.
Oh. And Mr. Hammond's office
set these aside for you.
[Johnny] Dear Bob.
Well, I won't grope
for the words
to tell you
how great your writing is.
I'll just say, uh,
your Freewheelin' album
is my most prized possession.
Thank you.
Johnny Cash.
[folk music playing,
"A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall"]
Oh, where have you been
My blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been
My darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side
Of 12 misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled
On six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle
Of seven sad forests
[woman] Oh, my God.
-Bob! Bob!
-[man 1] Bob Dylan?
[crowd clamoring]
[man 2] Hey, Bob,
where you goin'?
[newscaster]
Over 300,000 marchers
descended on Washington today
to demand
the end of segregation.
From New York, Bob Dylan.
When the marshals
and cops fled the scene
I met one man
he was wounded in love
-[man 1] Bob! You're the best!
-[man 2] Bob, please!
I saw a newborn baby
with wild wolves
All around it
[indistinct shouting,
clamoring]
I saw a highway of diamonds
with nobody on it
[Bob] Dear Johnny.
Thanks for that letter.
I am now famous.
[indistinct chatter]
[Bob] Famous by the rules of
public famiousity.
It snuck up on me
and pulverized me.
To quote Mr. Freud,
I get quite paranoid.
[Johnny] Bob, got your letter.
Tonight, I sit in the wake
of one more hard rain.
I was in, uh,
New York last week,
saw a bunch of folk singers
that couldn't hold a chigger
on your ass.
Well, I'll see you in Newport
come spring.
Until then, track mud
on somebody's carpet.
And I'll tell it
and think it and speak it
And breathe it
And reflect it
from the mountain
So all souls can see it
This was your dream.
Folk music reaching everybody.
But I'll know my song well
Before I start singin'
And it's a hard
It's a hard
Oh, it's a hard
It's a hard
It's a hard rain's
a-gonna fall
-Thank you.
-[audience cheering]
Newcomb portable, eh?
You're gettin' fancy on me.
[grunts softly]
[Pete] Uh...
Toshi and I, we... we...
we think it's a good moment,
you know, after Newport,
to do a tour.
But we're thinking
we should do a world tour.
Take the music out
to more people.
I'm thinking we see
Toshi's family in Japan,
and we want to take the kids.
But...
You gotta hold on.
You gotta do
what they tell you to do.
You gotta take
your medicine and...
You wanna play?
No, right, I know.
I gotta fix that one.
That needs a reed.
Bob.
Bob.
Sure. Yeah. No. I'll...
I'll see that he gets it.
From Dallas, Texas, the flash,
apparently official,
President Kennedy died
at 1:00 p.m.,
Central Standard Time.
2:00 Eastern Standard Time,
some 38 minutes ago.
[folk music playing,
"There But For Fortune"]
Show me the drunkard
As he stumbles
out the door
And I'll show you
a young man
With so many reasons why
But there but for fortune
Go you or I
Show me the country
Where the bombs
had to fall
Show me the ruins
Of the buildings
once so tall
And I'll show you
a young man
With so many reasons why
But there but for fortune
Go you and I
You and I
[audience cheering]
[Joan] Thank you, Newport.
Thank you.
Thanks so much.
Thank you, everyone.
See you soon.
You see who showed up?
You all right if I slip
him on, right after Joan?
Yeah?
You'll go on right after...
Yeah, sure. No sweat, Pete.
-Okay. Thank you. Thank you.
-Okay. All right.
[indistinct shouting,
cheering]
[woman] Bob Dylan!
-That was beautiful.
-Thank you.
All right, all right.
-[man] Where's Bob?
-He's comin'. He's a-comin'.
All right. Bobby's comin',
fear not, fear not.
But now, listen, we got a...
we got a surprise appearance.
If you look on your programs,
you'll see someone who was
supposed to be here last night
who was absent without
official leave, as they say.
[Bob] Hey, Johnny.
Bobby Dylan. Come here, you.
You know, I read that
last letter six times.
-That thing was economy-sized.
-Oh, yeah.
How about we get us a drink
after the show?
Yeah, all right.
I think I'm up after you.
[Johnny] All right, Bobby.
[Pete] But, uh,
but he's here, and, uh,
all the sweeter for
the waitin' as they say.
And so please give
a warm welcome
to Johnny Cash
and the Tennessee Three.
-Let's go.
-All right.
[audience cheering]
Hello.
All right, fellas.
Let's get these beatniks out
of their seats real quick.
Tie one on.
[country music playing,
Johnny Cash "Big River"]
[audience cheering]
Now I taught the weeping
willow how to cry
And I showed the clouds
How to cover up
a clear, blue sky
And the tears
I cried for that woman
Are gonna flood you,
big river
And I'm gonna sit right here
until I die
Far from Folsom Prison
That's where
I want to stay
And I'd let that
lonesome whistle
Blow my blues away
[audience cheering]
All right!
All right, thank you, Newport.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, thank you.
Well, the next fella up
is my pen pal.
And sometimes,
when I read his letters,
I think I can see his brain.
[all laughing]
Anyway, all I know is, uh,
you better sing about that
rooster crowing
till the break of dawn
'cause I need to learn
those damn words.
[all laughing]
Ladies and gentlemen,
Mr. Bob Dylan!
[audience cheering]
[clears throat]
Thank you, Johnny.
And thank you,
Newport Folk Festival.
Uh, maybe hear about that
rooster a little bit later on.
[all laughing]
Here's a new one.
[folk music playing, "The
Times They Are A-Changin'"]
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched
to the bone
If your time to you
is worth savin'
Then you better
start swimmin'
Or you'll sink
like a stone
For the times
they are a-changin'
-[playing harmonica]
-[audience cheering]
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's
still in spin
And there's no tellin'
who that it's namin'
For the loser now
will be later to win
For the times
they are a-changin'
[all] They are a-changin'
-[playing harmonica]
-[audience cheering]
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
The order is rapidly agin'
Please get out of
the new one
If you can't lend a hand
For the times
they are a-changin'
[all]
Times they are a-changin'
[audience cheering]
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order
is rapidly fadin'
And the first one now
will later be last
For the times
they are a-changin'
[all]
Times they are a-changin'
[audience cheering]
[exhales]
Way to go, Bobby.
[indistinct chatter]
Rollin' down the street
in the early dawn
Hey, Bob.
[blows whistle]
You got kids?
Yeah.
Thousands of 'em.
[tires screech]
[indistinct chatter]
[man] He's here.
Excuse me, one second.
Hey, Bob. Bobby. [laughs]
Come on in.
Thank you so much for coming.
Here, let me take your jacket.
-Oh, thank you.
Shirley, here.
Take this, please.
It's a wonderful cause. We
truly appreciate you coming.
-You good? You happy?
-[Bob] Yeah.
[Harold] You thirsty?
[Bob] Is there a bar
or somethin'?
[Harold] Yeah.
This way, my friend.
Hey, Bob.
I love Tambourine Man.
Oh, thanks.
So when's the new album out?
Uh, soon.
[man] Can songs really
change things, Bob?
-Well, they change keys.
-[man laughs]
[Alan] Bobby!
We miss you at the Archive!
How are you?
Word on the street
is you're making quite a noise
down there in Studio A, huh?
This is Becka, by the way.
Nice to meet you.
Listen, Bob, you don't have to
compete with the Beatles.
-Okay?
-[Bob] Yeah.
You are better than that shit.
Alan, you're obsessed
with the Beatles. Please.
Can I get two glasses
of red wine, please?
You didn't bring your guitar
with you, Bobby.
What, are you saving yourself
for your little tour
with Joanie?
Not little, Harold. Sold out.
Whoa! Hey, listen,
that's wonderful!
And honestly,
the last thing I wanna do now
is put pressure on you,
but the dirty little secret
is most everybody here is here
'cause they're hoping
you'd play a little something.
Where'd they get that idea,
Harold?
What'd you pull me into, man?
Is this a fucking gig
or something?
The prodigal. It's anything
you want it to be.
-He's back. Hi.
-Hey, Pete.
-How you doin'?
-Good.
-Nice to see you.
-Great to see you.
Toshi, how are you doin'?
Well, you made it around
the world in 80 days, huh?
Magic carpet ride.
Just full of wonder.
Full of wonder.
This is Becka, by the way.
Nice to meet you.
This is my wife, Toshi.
Nice to meet you.
I absolutely love your music.
I'm such a big fan,
Mr. Seeger.
No. No, I'm Pete.
Pete.
Harold is putting the lean
on you, yeah?
-Trying to get you to play?
-Yeah, little bit.
All right. Well,
don't hold it against him.
It's for a good cause.
-Wanna use this beauty?
-[both chuckle]
You always keep it handy,
huh, Pete?
He's like a gunfighter
with his six-gun.
-[both laugh]
-Always keeping it close.
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease
to be breathin'
Like the stillness
in the wind
'Fore the hurricane begins
The hour that
the ship comes in
And the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands
on the shoreline
Will be shakin'
And the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the mornin'
will be breakin'
-Thank you. That was great!
-[Bob] Thanks.
I can't wait
for the new album.
Hey, thank you, Bob. Truly.
Listen, don't forget to
sing out that thing next time.
Talk to me about that, Harold.
Have fun. Have a good night.
You were amazing.
[Bob] Two hundred people
in that room
and each one wants me
to be somebody else.
They should just fuck off
and let me be.
Be what?
Excuse me?
They should fuck off
and let you be what?
[scoffs] I don't know.
Whatever it is
they don't want me to be.
Yeah, well, I'm not a horse,
so I don't like carrying
other people's weight.
[scoffs]
Yeah. Well, I got
a hundred pounds on me
that don't show on that scale.
How do you sing, then?
I put myself in another place.
[elevator dings]
But I'm a stranger there.
Hey, what's your name, man?
Bobby. Like you, man.
Bobby Neuwirth.
Where you goin'?
I got a gig with some guys
in the East Village.
Spot called McAnn's.
Hey.
Hey.
You have a tour
with Joan Baez.
Were you gonna tell me
about that?
Am I just more weight?
They wanna own me, Becka.
Is that what you want?
I love you.
Is that scary to you?
Well, I just met you. So...
Yeah.
-[indistinct chatter]
-[upbeat folk music playing]
We had one million bags
Of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels
of stones
We had three million sides
Of old blind horses hides'
We had four million barrels
of bones
We had five million hogs
-And six million...
-[woman 1] That's him.
That's Bob fucking Dylan
right there.
-[man 1] Where?
-[woman 1] No, that's him.
-[man 2] It's him!
-[woman 1] Bob! Bob!
[woman 2] Bob.
[woman 3] Bob. Bob.
[woman 4] Bob. Bob.
Take your glasses off.
Let me see your eyes!
-[Bob] Hey, get off!
-[man 3] Fuck off!
-[Bob grunts]
-[crowd gasp]
[Bobby] Hey, hey, hey.
[man 4]
What are you doin', man?
[knock on door]
Bob.
It's 4:00 a.m.
Bob.
We broke up, remember?
Can I just get a towel
for this?
[water running]
Thanks.
You know, everyone asks where
these songs come from, Sylvie.
But when you watch
their faces,
they're not asking
where the songs come from.
They're asking why the songs
didn't come to them.
[man] Who is it, Sylvie?
[door opens]
[door closes]
[piano music playing]
Discover what you set out
to find
Come on, give it to me
I'll keep it
[blows whistle]
Say, "Beware doll
You're bound to fall"
You thought they were all
kidding you
You used to
People call, say
Once upon a time
you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime
in your prime
Didn't you?
It's not Mike Bloomfeld,
Albert. It's Mike Bloomfield.
He's a Chicago
blues guitar player.
[Albert] Okay,
I can't get him tomorrow.
-I can get another guitar...
-No.
I don't want any of your old
session musicians, man.
I want young guys
with hair on their heads,
a guitar player,
and a bass player,
an organ player,
and a drum player.
I'm gonna try my best
but I can't guarantee that
we're gonna get him tomorrow.
I don't want to hear it.
Get it done.
[upbeat folk music playing,
"Subterranean Homesick Blues"]
Ah, get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Hang bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You're gonna get hit
By losers, cheaters,
six-time users
Well, this is gonna
piss some people off.
George! Victor said
he went by the shop
and got fitted for
your daughter's wedding.
-[Alan] Hello, hello, hello.
-There he is.
Welcome to the center
of the universe.
[Pete] Alan,
let's talk Newport.
Hello, Harold. Peter.
All right. Give me Saturday
night again, please.
-Yes, we have Ian and Sylvia.
-Right.
Odetta, Donovan,
Johnny Cash and Kweskin...
And Theodore Bikel.
[chuckles] Yes,
I was just getting to me.
I also have this proposal
on the table
for the Butterfield
Blues Band.
Remind me who they are.
-Chicago blues band.
-Electric blues band.
A white electric blues band.
They're hot, Alan.
The guitarist,
Mike Bloomfield,
is unbelievable.
Oh, yeah. I'm sure he is.
He comes from that
Albert Grossman's stable
like you, Peter.
Knock it off.
I hear Bob
is playing electric now.
Not on our stage, he isn't.
There is no rock and roll
in Newport.
We don't need to be dogmatic.
Okay, okay.
[Peter] So, what is the
verdict on the Butterfields?
We already have blues players.
And we got real ones.
[Peter]
You never heard them, Alan.
[Alan] Newport Folk Festival
was created
to fight a riptide
of inauthentic shit.
-I understand that...
-No, you don't
understand, Peter.
I'm sorry,
but Peter, Paul and Mary
is a confection.
-Paul's name ain't even Paul.
-[Peter] Okay, Alan.
Albert Grossman
changed his name...
[Pete] All right, all right.
...because he thought
it sounded better.
Thank you so much.
It's like fucking
Ritz Crackers.
Now, stop it. Stop it!
Now, Peter,
don't go, don't go.
We're gonna work it out.
We're gonna work it out.
[Alan] We are here
to celebrate folk music.
From the people,
for the people, Pete.
The sound of a guitar
-and a man's voice.
-[Harold] Or a woman's.
Alan, please. Let's calm down.
[Alan] Don't talk to me about
ticket sales, Harold.
-I don't give a shit.
-[Harold] Okay.
Hey, Tom, give me a second,
I want to try something.
All right.
-[blows whistle]
-[all laughing]
[Bob] You're in trouble, man.
[hesitates] Highway 61,
take seven.
Man, you can't look at me
like that.
'Cause then... [laughing]
All right, guys.
Okay, wait.
Don't look at me like that,
'cause I gotta
get through the take.
If you got that thing on
your face, I'm gonna explode.
All right,
let's just do it before
this whole thing
crashes into the ground.
[blows whistle]
One, two, three.
[classic rock music playing,
"Highway 61 Revisited"]
Oh, God said to Abraham,
"Kill me a son"
Abe said, "Man,
you must be puttin' me on"
God said, "No"
Abe said, "What?"
God said, "You can do
what you want, Abe
"But the next time
you see me comin'
"You better run"
Of rainbow design
[music stops]
Thanks for tuning in
this evening.
Even though
I can't see you out there
through this little magic box,
tonight, we'll continue
our Rainbow Quest together
to seek out all the songs
and colors
and kinds of human beings
that live in this land
of ours.
Now, if you tuned in tonight
hoping to hear our friend,
Bob Dylan,
well, I don't wanna
disappoint you,
but Bob's been hung up
in the studio in New York.
He'll come another time.
But tonight, we've got
a very special guest.
A good friend of mine
from the deep
Mississippi Delta
named Jesse Moffette.
And when he heard we had
a gap, he jumped in a cab,
and he came right over
and he's live with us at NJU.
-Thanks for being here.
-Well, thanks for having me.
[Pete] So good to be with ya.
[Jesse] Well, you want to have
a drink with me?
Oh, no, no. Not while
I'm working. No. Yeah.
[Jesse] What kinda station
is this anyway?
This is educational, Jesse.
This is a local public
educational channel, yeah.
Educational?
Shit, I do educational!
I offer blues lessons in
the privacy of your own home.
-You wanna learn the blues?
-Sure.
Call me
at Rhinelander 8-4-6-0-2.
And do me a favor.
Bring me a bottle
of anything...
-All right, all right.
-...that ain't pasteurized.
Jesse, let's play something.
What music
have you got for us?
I'll play for you, oh, yeah.
Let's play.
Give us something deep.
[blues music playing]
Pain in my heart
Pain in my soul
Tell me baby
Oh, Lord
[imperceptible]
Ten long years
Lord, girl,
I've been lovin' you
I'm so sorry. We're live now.
I can't just let you walk out.
Oh, that's okay. I'm not
looking to interrupt anything.
Oh, Lord, yeah
It's okay.
It's just wonderful,
it's magical, Jesse.
Now, now...
Well, hold on
just one second, folks.
We've got a really,
really special treat.
-Uh, Bob did make it.
-[Bob] Nah, I'm good.
Bob's here.
Bob, come on.
-[Bob] It's all right, man.
-No, come on out.
Come on out. It's all right.
I'm... I'm glad you came.
I'm glad you came, yeah.
Jesse, say hi to a really
good friend of mine.
-This is Bobby Dylan.
-[Jesse grunts]
Bob. What kinda music
do you play?
Well, I play all sorts.
I mean...
What kinda music
do you say I play?
Oh, Bob plays a lot of kinds
and he plays all of them well.
You trying to steal my spot?
No, I'm not trying to
steal your spot, Jesse.
I was really
I was trying to figure out
what kinda tuning
you were using.
I don't think
I ever heard it before.
Nobody can, only me.
Look here. How close
were you watching me?
Well, I was, uh...
Well, I was watching
real close, Jesse.
I got these
special binoculars, right?
And they allow me
to see into your soul.
[chuckling] Really?
I see exactly
what you were playing.
It's like a tiny
little microscope, right?
Oh, watch out.
-[Jesse] Is that right?
-Yeah.
Do me a favor. Here.
Take my guitar and show me
how close you really
-was watching, my man.
-No, I can't.
Couldn't do that, Jesse,
that's like
touching your woman.
It's okay. All right. Just
don't squeeze her too tight.
-It's all right, Pete?
-Oh, yeah.
It's a family station.
You can...
As long as
I don't squeeze her too tight.
[Jesse laughs]
Then it's all right.
I'm gonna... watch this.
[blues music playing]
[Pete exclaims]
Pain in my heart
Pain in my soul
Oh, baby, I don't know
Ten long years
Oh, baby,
I've been lovin' you
Well, I ride on
a mail train, babe
I can't buy no thrill
And I've been up all night,
babe
I'm leaning
on the windowsill
Here we are, man.
[elevator dings]
Aw, shit.
[knocking at doors]
[door opens]
Ah, my second guess.
Hi.
What?
You want me to catch up
with you or something?
Yeah.
[Bob mumbling softly]
...mouthpiece of
the hollow horn.
[strums guitar]
Plays wasted words...
Pointed threats,
they bluff with scorn,
suicide remarks are torn.
From fool's gold, from
the fool's gold mouthpiece
and the fool's
gold mouthpiece,
the hollow horn
plays wasted words,
proves to warn.
That he not busy being born...
That he not busy being born...
[continues indistinctly]
-Bob?
-What?
Never mind.
Fool's gold,
fool's gold mouthpiece,
the hollow horn.
Plays wasted words,
wasted words proves to warn.
-He not busy being born.
-[Joan sighs]
He's busy dying.
[tap water running]
[water stops]
That he not busy
being born is busy dying
[Joan sighs]
Why did you come here?
What?
To make me watch you write?
What are you doing, Joan?
Why are you asking me that?
Why did you come here?
Hmm?
I came to see you.
You're acting like a jerk.
Why,
'cause I got out of your bed?
Get out.
[chuckles] What?
Get out.
Are you kiddin'?
No, Bob, I'm not kidding.
Get out.
Now!
Okay.
You know, Albert booked us
on a tour, Joan.
People, you know, on tour,
they typically
sing songs together.
Somebody's gotta write
those songs.
It's my fucking guitar.
See ya on tour.
[audience cheering]
[alternative music playing,
"All I Really Want To Do"]
[Bob & Joan]
I don't wanna fake you out
Take or shake
or forsake you out
I ain't lookin' for you
to feel like me
See like me or be like me
All I really wanna do
[both vocalizing]
Is, baby,
be friends with you
[audience cheering]
The motorcycle
black Madonna
Two-wheeled gypsy queen
Hey, Bob.
Where the fuck are you?
I don't know.
Every time I drink...
I'm right here, Joan.
You guys can see me, right?
All right, what's next?
[folk music playing,
"Blowin' In The Wind"]
[audience cheering]
I don't wanna play that.
I mean, they already
got that song on the record.
Pick another song.
Joan, choose somethin' else.
You guys wanna hear
Blowin' in the Wind, right?
-[audience cheering]
-Nah, man, I don't... Look...
It's why they came here, Bob.
Nah, I don't believe they
came here to hear that song.
'Cause I don't believe
the set list...
[indistinct shouting]
I don't believe a set list
was advertised.
No, no set list...
Unless that draconian figure
from, uh, Chicago,
United States up there
promised songs
that weren't gonna be played.
-What in the fuck?
-[audience exclaiming]
No, man, it's not
a request type concert.
If you wanna do that,
go see, uh, Donovan.
But here, uh,
we're gonna play new songs.
Pick somethin' else, Joan.
[audience exclaiming]
Pick somethin' else.
[playing
"Blowin' In The Wind"]
-[audience cheering]
-Oh, boy. Wow.
Okay, well...
Oh! I think my guitar broke.
Yeah.
Hey, listen man,
don't get mad.
Hey, the truth is
-it broke on the way here.
-[Albert] Oh, come on, Bob!
[Bob] No. Hey, man.
The bus I came to actually
caught fire on the way here
and my guitar ain't even
on me right now.
So, I'm gonna just go see
the guitar doctor backstage.
Or something, you know.
[audience booing]
[chuckles]
[Joan] Well, gee, I hope the
doctor can save his guitar.
I'll play it for ya.
[audience cheering]
How many roads
Hey, hey, hey!
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Come on.
-[feedback over mic]
-Welcome back, Neuwirth.
That yours?
It's Bob's.
He bought it in London.
[tuning electric guitar]
[humming]
Railroad Bill,
Railroad Bill
Never worked
and he never will
And it's ride, ride, ride
[Bob playing harmonica]
Railroad Bill
was a mighty mean man
He shot the midnight lantern
Out of the brakeman's hand
And it's ride, ride, ride
[Bob] Pick it up a little bit.
Railroad Bill
-Y'know he took a wife
-He took a wife
Said if I didn't like it
He would take my life
I'm gonna ride, ride, ride
[music stops]
Who are you?
I'm Al Kooper.
[chuckling] What?
You're Al Kooper?
He's another guitar player.
Yeah. Tom told me to fall by.
We already have
a guitar player, man.
Mike Bloomfield.
And he's really good.
[plays note]
To be better than him,
you'd have to be
Blind Willie McTell.
[chuckles nervously]
I don't care about money.
I wanna play, man.
No one's on organ.
You don't play keyboards, Al.
[instrumental music tuning,
playing]
[Bob] Still, don't even worry
about what we're doin'.
Play like you're in
the room alone.
[Mike] All right.
[Bob] Play for yourself,
it's gonna sound better.
-[Mike] All right.
-[Bob] Uh...
-Let's, uh,
scratch the waltz thing.
-[Gregg] Yeah.
[Bob] Let's just go back
to what we were doing before.
-[Gregg] Doin' it in four?
-[Bob] Yeah.
I think
it's gonna sound better.
-[Gregg] Little slower?
-[Bob] Yeah,
and a little slower.
You know,
not in that crazy pace.
[Gregg] Yeah. Not too fast.
[Bob] Yeah. All right.
[Tom] Uh, Like A Rolling
Stone, take eight.
-Ready?
-[plays piano]
-[Gregg] One, two...
-It's in C.
-[Gregg] One, two, three.
-[Bob] Right.
[folk music playing,
"Like a Rolling Stone"]
Once upon a time
you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime
in your prime
Didn't you?
Newport never seen threads
like these, man.
Hey, Bobby,
give me that compass, man.
-[Bobby] Ah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
-I'll wear it somewhere.
[Bobby] Gimme that one,
right there. Thank you.
[groans]
[Bob] What are you doing
downtown, Pete?
I thought you'd already be
in Newport.
[Pete] Trying to get together
with Grossman,
talk about your set,
but, uh, I'd rather not talk
to the middleman.
You wanna get a cup of coffee?
But we're still closing,
right?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.
Well, let's just talk up
in Newport, Pete,
'cause I don't even,
you know, I hadn't even
planned anything
-for the set yet, you know.
-Yeah. Okay.
You know,
I'm sorta living day to day
these days, you know?
Sure. Yeah, it's all right.
[car engine starts]
Be careful on that thing.
[car driving off]
Hey, Sylvie.
Hey, Sylvie!
[music playing on radio]
Hey, Sylvie!
Sylvie!
What are you doin' here?
I'm going to Newport.
You wanna come?
What?
I'm going to Newport. Come on.
[woman] Excuse me,
you cannot park there.
[Bob] There she is.
[chuckles]
[folk music playing,
"Mr. Tambourine Man"]
Hold on tight.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,
play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is
no place I'm going to
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,
play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning
I'll come following you
[indistinct chatter]
Wow.
[instrumental
folk music playing]
I want you to meet someone.
Bobby D!
You're lookin'
unlike yourself.
Who you runnin' with?
I'm running wild, Jesse.
Is she wild, too?
Only when the moon's full.
[laughing]
Kinda smells weird.
Bed's not bad.
Does this make me Bette Davis?
She ended up alone
in that movie.
No, she didn't.
They got together
when they were older.
[Bobby] Knock, knock.
Choose your weapon, General.
You got this guest thing with
Joan in a half hour.
That one.
Yes, sir.
I'll meet you back here later?
Why?
I'd like to catch that.
[Albert] You're on right now.
Let's go.
-You're running.
-[Bob] All right, Albert.
-Hold your horses.
-[Albert] Come on. Come on.
Let's go, let's go. Up.
Go, go, go. Come on.
-[Bob] Okay, right in there?
-[Bobby] Right in there.
Okay, we're running,
we're running.
Okay, all right.
-Hey, Pete.
-Hey, amigo, how are you?
-Hi, Sylvie!
-Pete!
I haven't seen you in a while.
-Oh, okay.
-How's it going?
Oh, it's all just jubilation
through and through.
Couldn't be better.
-[Alan] Hey, Bobby!
-Hello, darlin'. How are you?
[folk music playing,
"Farewell, Angelina"]
Valentino-type tangos
While the makeup man's
hands
Shut the eyes of the dead
Not to embarrass anyone
[kisses]
But farewell Angelina
The sky is changing color
And I must leave fast
The machine guns
are roaring
And the puppets
heave rocks
And the fiends nail
time bombs
To the hands of the clocks
You okay?
Sure. Why not?
Party after.
Great.
But farewell Angelina
The sky is erupting
I must go where it's quiet
[audience cheering]
Thank you.
How about saying hello
to the man who wrote that one?
Come on out, Bobby.
[audience cheering louder]
I picked
something appropriate.
Appropriate?
Just fuck off and sing.
[folk music playing,
"It Ain't Me Babe"]
Appropriate.
Go away from my window
Leave at your own
chosen speed
I'm not the one you want,
babe
I'm not the one you need
[audience cheering]
You say you're lookin'
for someone
Never weak
but always strong
To protect you
and defend you
Whether you are right
or wrong
Someone to open
each and every door
But it ain't me, babe
No, no, no,
it ain't me, babe
It ain't me
you're lookin' for, babe
Go lightly from the ledge,
babe
Go lightly on the ground
I'm not the one you want,
babe
I'll only let you down
You say you're lookin'
for someone
Who'll promise
never to part
Someone to close his eyes
for you
Someone to close his heart
Someone who will die for you
and more
But it ain't me, babe
No, no, no,
it ain't me, babe
It ain't me
you're lookin' for, babe
Sylvie! He's gonna ask
where you are.
-Tell him I went home.
-Why?
I can't do it.
I thought I could, but...
Just stay and talk to him,
all right?
He's got a lot of people
to talk to,
like 100,000.
You can't take a cab
to the Village from here.
[cab driver]
You getting in, Miss?
There's a ferry to Providence,
it leaves every other hour.
You can take a train from
there, just take a second.
Or saying,
"I can't forget you"
I do not walk the floor
Bowed down and bent but yet
Mama, you been on my mind
[audience cheering]
You could play basketball
with those polka dots.
Yeah,
take that shirt off, man.
You look like a goddamn clown.
Anybody here see
where Sylvie went?
[rock music playing
over radio]
Hey, Bobby.
Hey, you know where Sylvie is?
She split while you were
playing with Joan.
What do you mean she split?
I didn't wanna sink you, man.
Anybody home?
Hello, Albert. [laughs]
-Oh, my.
-Oh, God.
[Bobby] She was headed
for the ferry.
You probably still got time to
catch her if you head out now.
Christ, Bobby.
Bobby, can I have a word?
[Harold] Can we just turn that
down, please? Maybe?
Where's Pete?
He's not in on this?
"In on" what, exactly?
Posse of purity.
No, we are on our own.
Sorry, I gotta go.
[Albert] Bob, my friend...
All we want to know
is what you're planning
on doing tomorrow, Bobby.
If you're gonna play
the new songs, that's all.
'Cause you want me
playing the old ones?
All right, let's just cut
the crap, Bob. Come on.
You're gonna be playing noise
like this?
This is The Kinks.
I'm supposed to introduce you.
And if you are,
just let me know.
And we'll get Dick Clark
to introduce...
Whoo-hoo! You hear that?
You wanna get Dick Clark
to Newport Folk Festival?
I don't know if you noticed,
but there's a lot of
fucking people here...
[Alan] How could I not?
I'd rather have 10 faithful
than 10,000 groupies!
It was the Newport
Folk Festival, then Bob,
and it still is
the Newport Folk Festival.
Not the teen dream,
uh, Brill Building,
Top 40,
British Invasion Festival.
A folk festival!
Do you even remember
folk music, Bob?
No, Alan, what's that?
Maybe you could
sing me somethin'.
[engine revving]
All day
and all of the night
[indistinct chatter]
[Bob] Hey!
Hey, Sylvie.
Come here.
Come on.
What are you doing?
Where are you going?
I'm going home.
Why?
It was fun to be
on the carnival train
with you, Bobby,
but I think I gotta step off.
I feel like one of those
plates, you know,
that the French guy spins
on those sticks
on The Sullivan Show.
Oh, I kinda like that guy.
I'm sure it's fun
to be the guy, Bob,
but I was a plate.
[somber instrumental
music playing]
Oh, Christ.
Stay. Come on.
Don't ask for the moon,
we have the stars.
[ferry horn tooting]
Sylvie.
Sylvie.
[door closes]
[Pete humming]
Rise, sunshine.
Oh, Christ.
[Pete] Here you go. Morning.
Thought we could have a chat,
so, I brought you
a cup of hot black
and, uh,
one with milk for Sylvie.
[Albert] Hey.
What the fuck?
Morning, Albert.
It's 7:00 in the morning.
Fuck.
Whatever this is, Pete,
maybe you could wait
another few goddamn hours.
Well, it is the last day
of our festival, Albert,
and I think people would like
to know what's coming.
So, I'm here to have
a conversation
with my old friend.
Bobby,
did I ever tell you my, uh,
my parable of
the teaspoon brigade?
[Albert] The parable of
the fucking what?
It's the crack of
fucking dawn here!
[Pete] It's a good story.
[Albert chuckles] Okay.
Bob needs his rest, all right?
We all need our rest.
It's all right.
Let him tell his story, Al.
Come on,
give it to me good, Pete.
All right. Imagine,
we got a seesaw.
-Seesaw?
-[Pete] Yeah.
Okay. [chuckles]
One end of it, it's anchored
firm to the ground
'cause it's got
a basket full of rocks on it.
The other end,
it's floating up here,
way up in the air
and wishin' it could come down
but all it's got is a basket
that's half full of sand
and the sand is leaking out
all the time.
Okay, now...
Could you get me a cigarette,
man?
[Pete] We see this situation.
We say, well, maybe we should
do something about this.
And all we got with us
is some teaspoons
but we take 'em out
and we start
putting sand up
into that basket
and it's running out
as fast as we can put it in.
There's all kinds of people.
They're looking at us
and they're laughin'
and they're sayin', "Geez,
you're wastin' your time."
But every day a few
new people show up
and they bring their spoons,
and they start pitchin' in.
-You know why?
-Why?
[Pete] Because
one of these days,
enough people
are gonna put sand
in that basket
at the same time
that the whole damn thing
just goes, zoop.
And we level things out.
Okay. Thanks, Pete.
We get the story.
I don't think you do, Albert.
Bobby, Newport, we built it
for the purpose of sharing
traditional folk music.
We started it six years ago,
and every year since then,
more and more people
have been showing up,
and they're bringing
their teaspoons.
Teaspoons for justice,
and teaspoons for peace
and teaspoons for love,
and that's what we do and...
Gosh, you showed up, Bobby,
and damn it,
if you didn't bring a shovel.
[both chuckle]
[Pete] Really.
I mean,
we're all here just laboring
with our little teaspoons
and you come
and bring a shovel.
And thanks to you,
we're almost there.
We're on the verge
of tipping it, Bob,
and you're our closing act.
And tonight, if you could
just get up there
one more time
and use that shovel
in the right way...
The right way?
[Pete] You could
level things out, Bob.
You know, I sent you an
advance of my new record.
Sure. Yeah, I got it.
Did you ever listen
to the music
you're telling me not to play?
I can see the direction
you're goin' in.
I could see it
on the last record.
You know, it... it's not...
No, don't take it that way.
[hesitates]
Bobby, you write great songs
that are leadin' to change
-and we're a folk festival.
-Nothing's changin', Pete.
-Why is this controversial?
-[Bobby] Nothing's changing.
Nothing's changing.
What, not at all.
Kennedy's dead.
They just shot Malcolm X.
Well, isn't that
all the more reason.
[Albert] You know,
there's more to sing about
than justice, Pete.
There's more than
one way to play a song.
You ever just take a second
and think that maybe
it's more fun to be in
a fucking band, man?
You don't understand, Bobby,
they just want me singing
Blowin' in the Wind all alone
for the rest of
my goddamn life.
All we're talkin' about
is tonight.
He's scared of your music,
Bob.
[Pete] Nobody's scared of
anybody's music.
You are.
You're scared that the kids
out on that lawn
might like it.
And why would
I be afraid of that?
Because you're pushing candles
and he's selling light bulbs.
Albert, there's only one of us
who's focused on
how much we're selling
and it ain't me.
-Hey, Bobby, Bobby...
-[door opens]
Oh, Christ, man. Shit.
Am I blocking you in, pal?
Hey, JR.
Johnny, it's me. It's Bobby.
Hey! Shit, Bobby.
Yeah!
Thought you left town already.
Well,
we loaded out last night.
June left for New York
with her mama.
Pete asked me to stay for
the finale today, you know,
and I couldn't sleep.
Just took a drive.
Saw the ocean.
Okay.
-This yours?
-Yeah.
Hey, man, you got a cigarette?
Yeah.
Thanks.
Let me get outta your way.
[bottle shatters]
A guy I knew in the Air Force
had a Triumph.
[car engine starts]
Gotta prime it up!
[engine revving]
Oh, shit.
Good. Good.
Whoops.
[engine stops]
-Want a Bugle?
-Nah.
You playing tonight?
Yeah, that's what
the program says,
but I'm not sure
they wanna hear
what I wanna play, Johnny.
-Who's they?
-Uh, you know,
the men who decide
what folk music is.
Well, fuck them.
I wanna hear it.
Make some noise, BD.
Track some mud on the carpet.
[strumming guitar]
It's getting nuts out there.
Three songs, get out.
Thank you, good night.
Electric or acoustic?
[audience cheering]
[man] How crazy is it
gonna be tonight, Bob?
[Bob] Uh, pretty crazy.
Come check it out.
[woman] It's sold out.
We can't hear it.
I'll sing louder.
[crowd clamoring]
-Old hammer
-Let your hammer ring
Won't you ring old hammer?
Let your hammer ring
So? How are we?
I think he understands.
Let your hammer ring...
Let your hammer ring
Broke the handle
on my hammer
Let your hammer ring
-[man] Hey, man.
-[Bobby] Hey, man.
-How you doin'?
-How's it goin'?
Let your hammer ring
Got to hammerin'
in the Bible
Let your hammer ring
Won't you ring old hammer
Let your hammer ring
Won't you ring old hammer
Pete thinks we're gonna be
okay. All right?
Won't you ring old hammer?
-Let your hammer ring
-[sighs]
[woman 1] We want Bob!
[audience shouting]
Bob! Bob! Bob!
Let's hear it for
the Texas Work Song group
all the way from
Abilene, Texas!
All right, hold on.
Now that was music!
-Bob!
-[man 1] We love you!
-Bob! We love you, Bob!
-[audience cheering]
[Alan] We have
one more act now.
We love you, Bob!
All right, okay.
[woman 2] We want Bob!
I don't even need to say
his name, do I?
[indistinct shouting]
[Alan] Fine, you want him,
you can have him. Bob Dylan.
[audience cheering]
[plays harmonica]
Ready?
[classic rock music playing,
"Maggie's Farm"]
I ain't gonna work on
Maggie's farm no more
What the hell is this?
I ain't gonna work on
Maggie's farm no more
[man 2] No! This is all wrong!
Well, I wake up
in the morning
Fold my hands
and pray for rain
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin' me insane
-What are you doing?
-[audience booing]
It's a shame the way
she makes me scrub the floor
I ain't gonna work on
Maggie's farm no more
Come on, Bob! This is Newport!
I ain't gonna work on
Maggie's farm no more
They don't need us
promotin' this shit!
Drop a dime
in any fucking jukebox!
When's the last time
you saw a jukebox, Al?
Tell 'em to turn
the fucking sound down!
Sounds perfect to me.
[Alan] Fuck this.
-Where are you going?
-[Alan] To fix it.
Alan!
"Sing while you slave"
And I just get bored
-[laughs]
-[Alan] It's too loud!
I ain't gonna work on
Maggie's farm no more
Oh, no!
-Turn it down!
-What?
Turn the fucking music down!
-Hey, calm down.
-No, no.
-You work for us!
-Hey!
-Lomax!
-[Alan grunts]
Just like we set it
this afternoon, all right?
Nobody touches the board.
[both grunting]
Now, hold it!
[indistinct shouting]
-What the hell's going on?
-Just ignore it.
Sorry, Odetta. Sorry.
Get off the stage!
Keep playing.
[man 3] Tambourine Man!
[rock music playing,
"It Takes a Lot to Laugh"]
[audience shouting]
Come on! What the fuck
is this? Bullshit!
Damn.
Well,
I ride on a mail train, baby
Can't buy a thrill
It's enough, enough.
Well,
I've been up all night, babe
Leanin' on the window sill
Well, if I don't die
on top of the hill
Why haven't
they turned it down?
'Cause it sounds
fucking great, man.
Quiet, Bobby.
You tell them it is an order
from the festival board.
-Fuck the board!
-[Alan] You're on the board,
you fucking moron!
You're not gonna be
on the board for long!
[Harold] Would you stop...
[Alan] You're not gonna be
on the board any longer!
[Harold] This is not
a playground! Stop it!
-[rock music continues]
-[audience shouting]
This is chaos.
You've got to turn it down.
I can't do that.
I know you know who I am, son.
-Now let me at that board.
-No.
Get off, man!
[audience booing]
Jesus Christ, man.
No! Get back!
Open your fucking ears, man!
-[rock music continues]
-[audience shouting]
Pete!
All right, all right.
[music stops]
Boo! Come on!
Judas! You're Judas!
[man 4] Sit down!
I don't believe you.
[folk music playing,
"Like A Rolling Stone"]
Play it loud.
[audience shouting]
Once upon a time
you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime
in your prime
Didn't you?
People call say "Beware doll
You're bound to fall"
You thought they were all
kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was
hanging out
Now you don't talk so loud
[woman 3]
This is a folk festival!
Now you don't seem
so proud
About having to be
scrounging around
For your next meal
How does it feel?
[man 5] Yeah! Play it, man!
How does it feel?
To be on your own
[woman 4] Play it!
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone
[audience booing]
Let's get the fuck
out of here.
Oh, shit.
God damn.
Bobby, you broke it down
and blew my mind! Fuck!
[Albert] Are you okay?
Did you get hit?
-Are you okay?
-[Bob] Nah.
[Peter] Bobby was...
All right.
Okay. Listen.
He was only scheduled
for three songs and...
Maybe you wanna
go back out there,
and let out a little steam?
[Bob]
The hell you talking about?
Why would I wanna do that,
Albert?
[Bobby] To end the show.
We just ended the show, man.
It's done.
Let's go. Pack up.
That crowd
is not gonna let up, okay?
We need a finale, Bob.
You know what they want.
Please!
[Peter]
Bob has left the stage.
[audience booing]
[Peter] Okay. Please.
Go get 'em, killer.
You know what?
He's coming. Bob Dylan.
[audience cheering]
-[man 3] Tambourine Man!
-[audience shouting]
[folk music playing, "It's
All Over Now, Baby Blue"]
You must leave now,
take what you need
You think will last
But whatever
you wish to keep
You better grab it fast
Yonder stands your orphan
with his gun
Well, we gotta try.
We gotta try, yeah?
We gotta get
everyone out there
and we'll pull this
back together.
Together is done, Pete.
Your boy just tore it down.
Look out, the saints
are comin' through
And it's all over now,
Baby Blue
How fast can we get him
out of here?
Like he was never here.
Leave your stepping stones
behind
Something calls for you
Not that fast.
Forget the dead you left
They will not follow you
The vagabond
who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes
that you once wore
Strike another match,
go start anew
[audience cheering]
And it's all over now,
Baby Blue
[playing harmonica]
All right.
Here you go.
Thanks, Johnny.
Got what they wanted.
Bob.
-Bob!
-[Bob] Gig's over, Toshi.
Go, go.
[upbeat rock music playing]
[indistinct chatter]
[woman] Hey, Pete. Great show.
[man] All right, Pete!
-Where is he?
-I'm sorry, Pete.
-No. Where is he?
-He's right in there.
It's okay.
Hi, Maria.
I loved the show.
I thought it was great.
Oh, good.
It was a good ending.
-You feel good?
-Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hi, Jesse.
-Hey, beautiful show.
-Thanks for being there.
[soul music playing,
"I'm Through With You"]
[gentle guitar
music playing]
Let go of it, Bobby. You won.
What did I win, Joan?
Freedom.
From all of us and our shit.
Isn't that what you wanted?
[bike engine starts]
See you soon, Joan.
[humming]
[folk music plays, Woody
Guthrie "Dusty Old Dust"]
[bike engine receding]
[folk music playing,
"Like A Rolling Stone"]
[music fades]
[folk music playing,
"Blowin' In The Wind"]
[music stops]
[folk music playing,
"Mr. Tambourine Man"]
[music stops]