Todd Haynes is one of the most intelligent filmmakers our country has to offer. The question remains, however, whether his intelligence allows for any emotion to come through in his films. I think it does, but it's not an obvious, worn-on-your-sleeve type of emotion; it's the type that takes a little self-analysis to discover. For example, his great film Safe (1995), which was voted the best film of the decade in the Village Voice poll of 1999, left me feeling queasy and unpleasant, and my initial reaction was to blame the film for it. But those were precisely the types of emotions I was supposed to be feeling after seeing a story about a sick woman. Haynes deliberately designed the film with a kind of emptiness -- and refused to answer the question as to whether or not his heroine was actually sick, and when the lead character joins the "cult" in the film's final stretch, Haynes does not invite us to go with her, so we're left in the lurch, so to speak.

Jean-Luc Godard, another intelligent filmmaker, once said that the best way to critique films was to make one. Haynes did precisely this with Far from Heaven (2002), which more or less used a Douglas Sirk framework to discuss Sirk's films as well as a more modern look at racism and homophobia. (The critics' group I am a member of, the San Francisco Film Critics Circle, gave our 2002 Best Director award to Haynes.) Now Haynes does it again with his exceptional new I'm Not There, a deconstruction of the biopic as well as a fascinating look at the cult of celebrity, and, on a deeper level, the celebrity as a godlike being with answers to all our questions. Whereas most biopics are made solely for the purpose of providing a rich centerpiece role (and, hopefully, an Oscar) for an ambitious actor, Haynes deliberately subverts this by casting seven different actors -- of all different ages, races and even sexes -- to play Bob Dylan.

If there's something Martin Scorsese knows about almost as much as movies, it's music from the '60s. Apparently. Why else would he be on such a roll these days with music documentaries on iconic acts from that time? First there was the wonderful Bob Dylan documentary No Direction Home; now he's about to release a Rolling Stones doc titled Shine a Light; and he's just announced another doc he's going to make about George Harrison. According to Variety, the film will be more of a comprehensive biography, covering Harrison's time in The Beatles, as a solo artist, his Eastern religious/philosophical interests and even his stint a movie producer (his Handmade Films gave us Monty Python's Life of Brian and Terry Gilliam's Time Bandits). Scorsese is producing with Olivia Harrison (George's widow) and his No Direction Home producer Nigel Sinclair, and filming will begin with some interviews later this year. It will take awhile to finish, of course. The untitled pic will again be edited by David Tedeschi, who also cut the other two Scorsese music docs.

Maybe if time permits, Scorsese can do more '60s icons after he's done with Harrison. Neil Young may not be worth another film, and The Doors doc would probably be better suited to Oliver Stone, but surely we could use a Scorsese-directed film about Eric Clapton or any of the girl groups (The Shirelles, The Ronettes, The Marvellettes, The Crystals, The Shangri-Las) he likes to use for his soundtracks. Hey, he could just do a doc on girl groups. It's so good to see Scorsese getting back to music docs so long after working as an assistant director on Woodstock, and later as director of The Last Waltz, and I can't wait to see what else he's got planned. Anyway, there's no use thinking so far ahead. I'm still simply waiting for Shine a Light, which doesn't come out until April, and I'm definitely looking forward to the Harrison film, which will feature a ton of archival footage provided by his family and is expected to feature surviving Beatles Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr.