This film is so bad that it actually casts doubt on the significance of Dylan's music career, because anybody whose soul is full of this much pretentious bullshit would barely be able to hold his own in a karaoke bar. If you didn't know that Dylan was more full of himself than a naked Tommy Lee on a heroin binge, you're about to learn.

And how is it that so many bankable stars ended up in this piece of dung? Did none of these people (or their agents) read the script? Or did somebody just say, "Hey, we're making a movie with Bob Dylan. Want to join?" Here's a list of the people who either a) didn't read the script, b) can't read or c) wouldn't know the difference between good writing and cipher written in alien feces: Jeff Bridges, Penelope Cruz, John Goodman, Jessica Lange, Luke Wilson, Angela Bassett, Steven Bauer, Bruce Dern, Ed Harris, Val Kilmer, Cheech Marin, Chris Penn, Giovanni Ribisi, Mickey Rourke, and Christian Slater.

Dylan essentially plays the role he knows best: himself. However, he's given his character the name of Jack Fate, which sounds like a character from a really awful picture book trying to explain life to retarded children. Other character names include Tom Friend, Pagan Lace, Uncle Sweetheart and Bobby Cupid. Was Dylan trying to write a script or create a line of Hallmark cards? Now we know why this guy's singing sounds like the mumblings of a drunken mountain gorilla: Dylan's brain is apparently the consistency of yogurt.

Dylan's physique looks as feeble as his mind. Stick a hanger in the back of his jacket and you could dangle the guy from your porch during Halloween. Dylan actually has a short fight scene with Jeff Bridges, apparently in an effort to quell rumors that he's already dead.Having done a little research on this film to see if there was anybody on this Earth who might have understood it, I actually came across a few who liked it, proving that unconditional adoration and brain rot go hand-in-hand.