Control

As suspected, I loved this film.

Most biopics of musicians follow the standard, drearily predictable story arc: artist grows up in obscurity/pain, catches a break, becomes successful (montage of screaming fans, billboard chart listing, spinning record should the era require it), starts to show signs of becoming an asshole, artist really becomes an asshole (requisite scene where angry wife throws a glass against a wall) something really bad happens to artist involving drugs, alcohol, violence, or a combination of all three, artist hits rock bottom, artist finds redemption, gives one last great performance, title credits explain what happens to every tangential character in the film; in short, tedious fare I avoid like the plague.

But a few years ago I read ‘Touching from a Distance’ by Deborah Curtis on which ‘Control’ is at least partly based, the story of her late husband and his band, Joy Division. It was a very honest, moving book, remarkable for its heartfelt sincerity and its refusal to overdramatize or psychoanalyze. Similarly, first-time feature director Anton Corbijn avoids the forementioned cliches, opting to treats the people in the story with a restrained dignity that celebrates the life of Ian Curtis and the music of Joy Division. That his first job is as a photographer means that the look of the film is incredible, the black and white scenes adding lightness and melanchology in equal turns.

Sam Riley gives an amazing performance, particularly during the concert scenes where he just becomes Ian Curtis, capturing the lead singer’s lanky, slightly spastic, raging dance moves and microphone posture perfectly. The other members of Joy Division/New Order also were well cast, never dominating but not simply there as decoration to the story. The decision to have the actors play the songs gave the concert scenes an added dose of energy, and the use of select original recordings as background were well-timed.

Ultimately, of course, it’s a sad film, and the scene that you know is coming and are dreading is distressing, but isn’t drawn-out. One of the final moments on screen fo Samantha Morton, as his wife Deborah, occupies only seconds of screen time but may be one of the saddest I’ve watched in recent memory. It's all the more effective for capturing, in its brevity, the tragegy of a family abandonned and a shining career lost.

Also bittersweet was seeing the recently deceased Tony Wilson depicted on screen again. Steve Coogan was great playing the former owner of Factory records and early Joy Division supporter in 24 Hour Party People, and here Craig Parkinson is remarkable as well.

Highly Recommend.