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Who is Bob Dylan?

No, really. A lot of people would like to know. Those under age 40 might ask this question literally. (See also: "Why is that retired truck driver singing Frank Sinatra covers on my Spotify?")

But even those who drew lifelong inspiration from this extraordinary Minnesota native might have a few follow-ups. I've been a Dylan fan since high school. For 14 years, I helped run an arts festival called Dylan Days in our shared hometown. Yet, Friday night's advance screening of the Dylan biopic "A Complete Unknown" in Hibbing left me somewhat bewildered.

Somehow, this man endured 83 years as a living mystery. Perhaps he was not an enigma to himself, his family and friends — though the film suggests as much — but a surefire mystery to the rest of us. That's remarkable for a famous person in the TMI era.

Another feat: the existence of this event. You don't see major movie premieres in Hibbing very often. About half the crowd were locals I knew, but several of the nation's premier Dylanologists attended to bathe in the significance. In fact, a row of such folks sat behind me, quietly correcting historical details as they transpired on screen.

My wife and I were a little nervous to be in a full theater. Movies in Hibbing tend to allow plenty of elbow room. Christina tried to eat her crumpled straw wrapper, thinking it was popcorn. Later, I accidentally brushed popcorn into the hair of the lady sitting in front of me. Paralyzed by social mores, I stared at the telltale kernel for much of the film. The point is, we're not sophisticated A-listers.

But neither was Robert Zimmerman when he left for Minneapolis in 1959, or New York two years later, this time with a new name. That's where we pick up the story in "A Complete Unknown." Just two years after graduating from Hibbing High School, a twitchy young Dylan found sudden folk music success in 1961. In the summer of 1965, after recording five albums in four years, Dylan plugged in his guitar to create a new genre, folk rock.

He did this without speaking of Hibbing or his birthplace of Duluth at the time. Some locals carried this perceived slight to their graves, or at least to a well-worn bar stool. Yet, recent interviews and writings suggest that Dylan understands how Minnesota shaped his work.

Our little iron mining town stumbled into the national spotlight this past January when actor Timothée Chalamet came to research his role as Dylan. At the show, several friends confided to me their hopes that Chalamet would return for this event.

He did not, to the chagrin of those who wore their best long underwear, but the movie proved well worth their mild disappointment. Chalamet turned in a masterful performance, not only closely mimicking Dylan's singing, but also his mannerisms and personality. We grow to understand why Joan Baez fell for Dylan and why she had enough of him. It's all there.

Speaking of Baez, Monica Barbaro's performance as the influential singer-songwriter might be the understated gem of the movie. Like Chalamet, she channels her subject while remaining a dynamic force in a story that is essentially a parable about creative energy.

Where do songs come from? The words, phrases and notions that fuel creativity can feel divine or supernatural.

I ached with longing during "A Complete Unknown," not for the beautiful people in the film or even the banjo skills of Ed Norton's Pete Seeger. No, I wanted to go to the young Dylan's spartan, smoke-filled apartment, where a cup of coffee and a typewriter were the only things slowing down the words coming from inside the man's head.

Some potential Bob Dylan is probably out there right now, just too blinked out on TikTok to write songs. Dylan had to quit drugs to stay functional. We might do the same with our smartphones.

The fact that Dylan came from a middle class home in Hibbing always suggested to me something really beautiful about art, writing and music. It can come from anywhere and work through anyone. No, we can't all be Dylan, and that's actually the point. Even Dylan seems to have surprised himself.

If Bob Dylan can emerge from the winter woods of Minnesota, who might be the next great artist?

A filmmaker? A graphic novelist? Or perhaps, if the next few years wear poorly, a butcher, a baker or a candlestick maker. We don't choose the times. You know the song. Times a-change, and we change with them. A rare few tell the story.

Who is Bob Dylan? The simplest explanation is often the best. He's Bobby Zimmerman, a kid from Hibbing who learned to play music because he thought it was cool and wrote poetry because that's how he made sense of the world.

A better question is who are we? Answering that question could prove a good deal more useful, if only because we stand some small chance of knowing.