Many years ago I was reluctantly preparing myself for school when I heard about Ian Curtis’ suicide on the radio and I was shocked. It was a surprise that Ian C took his own life, even though Joy Division projected an image of doom and gloom. A year earlier I heard of Sid Vicious’ death in a similar way and I was amused. Sid was a comedic character and I was amazed he had survived that long. Curtis was the classic tragic figure, unhappy living in a world of, mostly, his own making. Curtis was from near Manchester, a city that has produced interesting talent over the years, including the brilliance of the Pete Shelley, the lunacy of Mark E Smith, and the absolute banality of Morrisey. I’m still hoping to hear on the news one morning that Morrisey is gone from my life.
The film starts in 1973 in Macclesfield, which is close to Manchester, where high school student Ian Curtis (Sam Riley) spends his days writing poetry, experimenting with prescription medication, miming to Bowie, and stealing his best friend’s girl, Deborah Woodruff (Samantha Morton). Curtis is one of the people at the Sex Pistols’ influential 1976 Manchester gig, and that is the catalyst to him joining the band that will become Joy Division.
Joy Division’s post punk sound and dark, brooding, poetic songs make an impact on the local scene. They tour to London to spread their name and it is there that Ian meets Belgium temptress Annik Honore, and they begin an affair.
The film ends in 1980 with Curtis struggling with the band’s success, his epilepsy, his feelings for Annik, and a sense of obligation to his wife and young daughter (Natalie). He had created two lives for himself and wanted neither. The ending is a part of music history, but it is still jolting when it happens.
Control is based on the book, Touching From A Distance, by Curtis’s wife Deborah and filmed by Joy Division photographer, fan, and friend, Anton Corbijn. These are two people who know the subject well, although they may not know the complete story. The black and white film captures the atmosphere that Joy Division always promoted, with some scenes growing out of Anton’s past photographs. Riley is haunting as Curtis, as he accurately captures the look, voice and movements of the dead star. The attention to detail in location, wardrobe and musical instruments should impress anybody familiar with Joy Division.
It’s a very fine production, but two hours watching someone wallow through an existence they made for themselves but couldn’t deal with is not my idea of entertainment. That may because I know the story well, or because I am incredibly shallow. The film lifted when the band played, and the actors actually did play and sing the songs. Through their performance you can imagine the energy and atmosphere of a Joy Division gig. The score is perfectly chosen to enhance the film, with incidental music by the real band and other relevant artists of the time.
The film is not all torment and depression, there is some comedy. My favourite parts being the appearance of legendary punk poet, John Cooker Clark, Curtis describing his favourite colour, and a depressed Curtis being told, “It could be worse. You could be the lead singer of The Fall.” It’s a brilliant film, even if it is not to my liking, but don’t expect to leave it feeling happy.
The film starts in 1973 in Macclesfield, which is close to Manchester, where high school student Ian Curtis (Sam Riley) spends his days writing poetry, experimenting with prescription medication, miming to Bowie, and stealing his best friend’s girl, Deborah Woodruff (Samantha Morton). Curtis is one of the people at the Sex Pistols’ influential 1976 Manchester gig, and that is the catalyst to him joining the band that will become Joy Division.
Joy Division’s post punk sound and dark, brooding, poetic songs make an impact on the local scene. They tour to London to spread their name and it is there that Ian meets Belgium temptress Annik Honore, and they begin an affair.
The film ends in 1980 with Curtis struggling with the band’s success, his epilepsy, his feelings for Annik, and a sense of obligation to his wife and young daughter (Natalie). He had created two lives for himself and wanted neither. The ending is a part of music history, but it is still jolting when it happens.
Control is based on the book, Touching From A Distance, by Curtis’s wife Deborah and filmed by Joy Division photographer, fan, and friend, Anton Corbijn. These are two people who know the subject well, although they may not know the complete story. The black and white film captures the atmosphere that Joy Division always promoted, with some scenes growing out of Anton’s past photographs. Riley is haunting as Curtis, as he accurately captures the look, voice and movements of the dead star. The attention to detail in location, wardrobe and musical instruments should impress anybody familiar with Joy Division.
It’s a very fine production, but two hours watching someone wallow through an existence they made for themselves but couldn’t deal with is not my idea of entertainment. That may because I know the story well, or because I am incredibly shallow. The film lifted when the band played, and the actors actually did play and sing the songs. Through their performance you can imagine the energy and atmosphere of a Joy Division gig. The score is perfectly chosen to enhance the film, with incidental music by the real band and other relevant artists of the time.
The film is not all torment and depression, there is some comedy. My favourite parts being the appearance of legendary punk poet, John Cooker Clark, Curtis describing his favourite colour, and a depressed Curtis being told, “It could be worse. You could be the lead singer of The Fall.” It’s a brilliant film, even if it is not to my liking, but don’t expect to leave it feeling happy.
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