Review by the spectacularly-named Phelim O'Neill. Al Jarvis gets a mention at the end!
It takes an almost obsessive love for the subject to make a rock biopic, and that's often the reason why so few of them actually work. Look at films like Walk The Line or The Doors. The rose-tinted spectacles of the film-maker view every unsavoury act by the chosen musician as forgivable, every utterance as deep poetry and every strum of a guitar or beat of a drum as groundbreaking, forever changing the lives of anyone within earshot. Worse yet, they try to offer pat explanations for every "genius" move. The advantage Control's director Anton Corbijn has is that he was actually there. He spent time with Joy Division, and did more than just take pictures of them. Corbijn's film refuses to deify singer Ian Curtis (played by Sam Riley). He comes across as a regular bloke. Sure, he could condense feelings with incredible acuity and economy in such lyrics as "When routine bites hard and ambitions are low" from Love Will Tear Us Apart, but he was still someone you could share a pint or two with. Or, if you visited the labour exchange he worked at, he could probably fix you up with a job. When was Jim Morrison ever that useful? He was also a complete washout as a husband. Music was his release. Writing was something he had to do. Touring and performing were the necessary evils that ground him down. Another surprise is just how funny the whole film is. Curtis wasn't all doom and gloom and Control certainly reflects that. Although, let's be clear, it's hardly a laugh riot and it certainly doesn't have a happy ending - unless you are a particularly hard-hearted fan of New Order.
