Let’s be real for a second. If you sit down to watch a Bob Dylan documentary Martin Scorsese put his name on, you aren’t just getting a history lesson. You're getting a magic trick.
Scorsese doesn't do "standard." He doesn't do dry. When he looks at Dylan, he sees a fellow traveler—someone who treats the truth like a piece of clay. Most people go into these films expecting a linear timeline of how a kid from Minnesota became a Nobel laureate. What they get instead is a hall of mirrors.
The Great Disappearing Act of 2005
In 2005, we got No Direction Home. Honestly, it's probably the most "honest" look we’ll ever get at Dylan’s transition from folk hero to electric pariah. It focuses on that insane window between 1961 and 1966. You've seen the clips. The "Judas" shout at Manchester Free Trade Hall. Dylan snarling back, "I don't believe you... you're a liar!" before telling the band to play "f***ing loud."
It’s visceral.
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Scorsese spent years sifting through hundreds of hours of footage gathered by Dylan’s office. He wasn't just looking for the hits. He was looking for the "state of becoming." That’s a phrase Dylan uses in the film that basically defines his whole existence. He tells the camera, "An artist has got to be careful never really to arrive at a place where he thinks he's at somewhere."
If you think you know him, he’s already gone.
Rolling Thunder and the Big Lie
Then came 2019. Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese. Notice the word "Story." That’s your first clue.
This is where Scorsese basically trolled the entire audience. He interviewed people who don’t exist. Seriously.
- The Congressman: Jack Tanner, who talks about Dylan’s political impact, is actually actor Michael Murphy playing a character from a 1980s mockumentary.
- The Filmmaker: Stefan Van Dorp, the "director" who supposedly shot the 1975 tour footage, is actually Martin von Haselberg (Bette Midler’s husband).
- The Teenager: Sharon Stone tells a heartbreaking story about Dylan making her cry on tour when she was 19. In reality, she was 17, and she never went on that tour. The photos of them together? Photoshop.
Why did Scorsese do this? Because Dylan is a myth-maker. He’s been lying about his origins since he told people he ran away to join the circus in the 50s. By weaving fake interviews into a "documentary," Scorsese creates a film that feels exactly like a Dylan song: a mix of gritty reality and surrealist poetry.
Why These Films Actually Matter
You might feel cheated when you find out the "promoter" in the movie was actually in law school during the tour. I get it. But there’s a deeper truth here.
The 1975 Rolling Thunder tour was a "carnie medicine show." Dylan wore white face paint and masks. He played tiny venues. He took Joni Mitchell, Allen Ginsberg, and Joan Baez on a bus and just... drove.
Scorsese captures the spirit of that chaos better than a boring, factual list ever could. He shows Dylan and Baez in a tour bus, flirting and sniping at each other like they’re still in 1963. He shows the raw, staccato energy of "Isis" and "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" performed with a violin (shoutout to Scarlet Rivera) that sounds like a siren.
The Actionable Insight: How to Watch Them
If you’re going to dive into the Bob Dylan documentary Martin Scorsese catalog, don't watch them as news reports. Watch them as companion pieces to the music.
- Watch No Direction Home first. It gives you the foundation. It explains why Dylan felt suffocated by the "voice of a generation" label. It’s the "how" of the legend.
- Watch Rolling Thunder Revue with a grain of salt. Don't Google the "facts" until the credits roll. Let the lies wash over you. The music in this film—the live 1975 recordings—is widely considered Dylan at his vocal and performative peak.
- Listen to the Bootleg Series. Specifically, Vol. 5 (Rolling Thunder) and the No Direction Home soundtrack. The films make the music make sense, and the music makes the films feel vital.
These documentaries aren't just for superfans. They're for anyone interested in how an artist survives their own fame. Scorsese understands that you can't capture Dylan with a net. You can only capture the shadow he leaves behind.
Next Step: Start with No Direction Home. It’s currently the most accessible entry point to understand the 1960s folk-rock explosion without the "meta" trickery of the later films.