Control – out now
Control is the beautifully shot biopic of Ian Curtis - the frontman for the short-lived but immeasurably influential post-punk group Joy Division - the screenplay of which is loosely based upon the widowed Deborah Curtis’ memoir Touching from a Distance.
As such, the film documents the slow-burning rise of Joy Division, playing numerous toilet venues before being lined up for a two-week American tour, which is inversely paralleled by Curtis growing illness, withdrawal from his surroundings and eventual death.
Ian Curtis is ably played by Sam Riley, who was previously the singer for the now defunct Leeds-based 10,000 Things; his skills as a vocalist and frontman were put to good use during the faithfully recreated live performances; the actors playing the band members actually learnt the songs, rather than miming to a backing track – part of the DVD extra features includes full-length performances of the numbers (’Transmission’, ‘Failures’, and ‘Leaders of Men’, fact fans) which are worth investigation.
Toby Kebbell injects welcome comic relief into the bleakness of the proceedings, gamely stepping into the shoes of chain-smoking smartarse manager Rob Gretton. The mad genius producer Martin Hannett and twat impresario Tony Wilson are sidelined, perhaps because their personas took up a large chunk of the narrative of 2002’s 24 Hour Party People, of which the Joy Division story was something of a footnote. The bard of Salford John Cooper Clarke makes an appearance as himself as a support act for the band, running through ‘Evidently Chickentown’. Joy Division fans will pick up on ciphers such as Werner Herzog’s Stroszek and Iggy Pop’s album The Idiot, which foreshade the terrible conclusion of the events.
At times, I felt as though the film couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to be a rock and roll biopic, or a portrait of a young man driven to the edge by his illness, his obsessions and his choices. It feels flat and lacking in warmth in place, due to the noticeable drought of dialogue in key scenes, which gives the film a disconnected feel – I’m not sure if this contributes to or detracts from the movie or not.
Despite this, Control remains an honest, uncomfortable portrait of one of the twentieth century’s most iconic figures, whose memory still casts a long shadow over the meta-narrative of popular culture.
