Todd Haynes

You could call Todd Haynes, 30, a quintessential Valley Boy. He grew up in Encino, learning to read and write at Lanai Road School, and later attending Gaspar De Portola Junior High--both as Valley as can be. Eventually, Haynes got his diploma from the alternative private Oakwood School in North Hollywood.

Since he came to notoriety with the 1988 cult hit "Superstar," an unauthorized account of Karen Carpenter's battle with anorexia starring a cast of Barbie dolls, Todd Haynes has developed into a singular voice in American movies: at once personal and political, steeped in academic theory yet sharply attentive to the nuances of popular culture. "Superstar," which ran afoul of the Carpenter estate and was never properly released, encapsulated the two types of films that have defined Haynes's career as a director and writer: rock-music biopic-cum-essays (no other American filmmaker is as much of a closet rock critic)

At 11 a.m. in a West Village cafe, filmmaker Todd Haynes is a time-warped eyeful at a too-small bistro table, looking like David Bowie, circa 1972. A polyester shirt pulled taut across his chest under a faded Wrangler denim jacket, stovepipe jeans with mega-cuffs over Doc Marten stompers, he's working a glam rock look that's so dead-on it's jarring, even in this been-there-done-that environ.

Todd Haynes' five-part HBO miniseries "Mildred Pierce" is not just great television, it's a revelation. Wresting James M. Cain's original story of ambition and maternal morality from the camp-classic embrace of the 1945 Joan Crawford film, Haynes has created not only a rich and nuanced vehicle for his A-list cast ? among them Kate Winslet, Evan Rachel Wood and Guy Pearce ? he has given us a rare and valuable gift: an American melodrama about class. In the last half-century, Americans have become increasingly uncomfortable with conversations about class.

Since he came to notoriety with the 1988 cult hit "Superstar," an unauthorized account of Karen Carpenter's battle with anorexia starring a cast of Barbie dolls, Todd Haynes has developed into a singular voice in American movies: at once personal and political, steeped in academic theory yet sharply attentive to the nuances of popular culture. "Superstar," which ran afoul of the Carpenter estate and was never properly released, encapsulated the two types of films that have defined Haynes's career as a director and writer: rock-music biopic-cum-essays (no other American filmmaker is as much of a closet rock critic)

To fully grasp every nuance of "I'm Not There," Todd Haynes' film that's not quite about Bob Dylan, it might help to be well versed in 1960s art, music, culture, counterculture, Federico Fellini, Woody Guthrie, Arthur Rimbaud and, of course, the entire oeuvre and history of Bob Dylan. Short of that, an open mind will suffice.

"Oh! You Pretty Things Don't you know you're driving your Mamas and Papas insane." --David Bowie, 1971 * This is a film set with a whole lot of ch-ch-changes going on. Actor Jonathan Rhys Meyers looks as if he stepped from the pages of a 25-year-old British music magazine, dressed as he is in platform heels and a figure-hugging sweater, with a leopard-skin scarf trailing from his neck. He wears a reddish-brown wig of spiky, layered hair, with an ultrashort fringe exposing his entire forehead.

Todd Haynes: A photograph of director Todd Haynes in today's Calendar is incorrectly credited to Jonathan Wenk of Weinstein Co. It was taken by Carolyn Kaster of the Associated Press.

Yes, it features Cate Blanchett as an eerily accurate Bob Dylan. And she's only one of six actors playing him. But when Todd Haynes, the daring and provocative writer-director of "Far From Heaven," "Safe" and "Poison," decided to make "I'm Not There," he took no chances. He had written and directed films without acquiring the music rights beforehand, and he wouldn't make that mistake again. So in summer 2000, Haynes met with filmmaker Jesse Dylan, the musician's oldest son.

Todd Haynes' melodrama "Far From Heaven" opens at the height of a New England autumn when the trees are ablaze in yellow, orange and a red so vivid it looks like blood. Set in Connecticut in the late 1950s, the film takes place in a small town where people go about their business quietly, including the business of dying inside, none more beautifully than Cathy Whitaker (Julianne Moore), whose world disintegrates after she discovers her husband in the arms of another man.

"I'm Not There," Todd Haynes' quirky biopic on Bob Dylan, may have puzzled mainstream critics and audiences with its surrealistic vision of casting several actors and actresses as the famed troubadour -- a deep knowledge of Dylan and an open mind are recommended -- but the indie world has embraced the film, as evidenced Tuesday by its domination of the first major award nominations of the season.

Photo credit: A photograph of director Todd Haynes in last Sunday's Calendar was incorrectly credited to Jonathan Wenk of the Weinstein Co. It was shot by Carolyn Kaster of Associated Press.

To fully grasp every nuance of "I'm Not There," Todd Haynes' film that's not quite about Bob Dylan, it might help to be well versed in 1960s art, music, culture, counterculture, Federico Fellini, Woody Guthrie, Arthur Rimbaud and, of course, the entire oeuvre and history of Bob Dylan. Short of that, an open mind will suffice.

Yes, it features Cate Blanchett as an eerily accurate Bob Dylan. And she's only one of six actors playing him. But when Todd Haynes, the daring and provocative writer-director of "Far From Heaven," "Safe" and "Poison," decided to make "I'm Not There," he took no chances. He had written and directed films without acquiring the music rights beforehand, and he wouldn't make that mistake again. So in summer 2000, Haynes met with filmmaker Jesse Dylan, the musician's oldest son.

IN her memoir, "A Killer Life," independent film producer Christine Vachon tells how her directing dreams died. It's not depressing, but hopeful: An artist realizes her strengths, and one of independent cinema's most fruitful relationships is born. But that's the kind of statement Vachon, thoroughly unsentimental, would dismiss with an eye roll. After graduating from Brown in the '80s, the New York native made short films with titles such as "Don't Look Up My Skirt Unless You Mean It."

Hearing filmmaker Todd Haynes and actress Julianne Moore talk about the "unusual synchronicity," the "simultaneity" and the "unspoken connection" they share, it's hard not to feel there's some kind of shared voodoo at work -- or at least a common language. Their latest collaboration, "Far From Heaven," is up for four Academy Awards, including best actress for Moore and best original screenplay for Haynes.

In an abrupt shift of tactics, the beleaguered chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts on Friday fervently endorsed the controversial NEA-funded film "Poison" as the "work of a serious artist dealing with the serious issue" of family violence. John E. Frohnmayer, trying to head off swelling criticism of the film from conservative groups, told a press conference that though the avant-garde movie includes depictions of homosexual sex, it is "neither prurient nor obscene."

Todd Haynes' melodrama "Far From Heaven" opens at the height of a New England autumn when the trees are ablaze in yellow, orange and a red so vivid it looks like blood. Set in Connecticut in the late 1950s, the film takes place in a small town where people go about their business quietly, including the business of dying inside, none more beautifully than Cathy Whitaker (Julianne Moore), whose world disintegrates after she discovers her husband in the arms of another man.