Storyline
New York City, early ‘60s—man, what a wild time to be alive, especially if you’re a scruffy kid from Minnesota with a guitar and a head full of poetry. That’s Dylan, barely out of his teens, dragging his boots through Greenwich Village, haunting smoky clubs, tossing out folk tunes like confetti. Suddenly, he’s everywhere—tiny venues to packed concert halls, his lyrics echoing off brick walls and bouncing into the mainstream. People can’t get enough: the mystery, the tangled words, the whole rebel-with-a-harmonica thing. Reporters chase him, fans obsess over every cryptic line, and the folk scene’s old guard doesn’t know what to do with this kid who refuses to play it safe. Then comes Newport, 1965—Dylan plugs in, drops the acoustic, and the world loses its mind. Folk purists boo, but honestly? He just shrugs and keeps playing, changing the sound of rock forever. It’s chaos, spectacle, and a total reinvention—one guy, one night, and nothing in music is ever the same.