A stark, haunting biopic, Anton Corbijn’s Control profiles Joy Division singer Ian Curtis, who killed himself at age 23 in 1980, just as the post-punk band was rising to fame. Curtis was anything but the typical punk rocker – timid, clean-cut, good-natured – and Corbijn’s film is anything but a typical troubled-artist biography.
What could have been a rough, tragic descent into punk madness a la Sid and Nancy is instead a mosaic of bleak, sterile imagery filmed in a gorgeous black-and-white that recalls the British ‘kitchen sink’ films of the 1960s.
When Joy Division recorded their first album in 1979, members of the band were said to be unhappy with the clean, atmospheric album that producer Martin Hannett had delivered, which contrasted with their grittier live style; only later did they come to accept it as the band’s definitive sound. Corbijn has achieved a similar feat with Curtis’ story here.
At the core of the film is the relationship between Curtis (played by Sam Riley) and his wife, Deborah (Samantha Morton). The two married while teenagers, and as Joy Division gets popular Curtis’ is torn between life as a husband and father and as a musician who has an affair with a Belgian journalist.
Bouts of epilepsy – even, occasionally, on stage – and a variety of medications prescribed to combat them also complicated matters.
Most memorable in the film are the intimate details, which usually get lost in most big-picture biographies; scenes of Curtis’ watching the bizarre ending to Werner Herzog’s Stroszek shortly before killing himself are especially haunting.
Riley is simply incredible as Curtis, capturing the singer perfectly in look and emotion, conveying oceans of solitude, loneliness, and confusion without words. Morton is good but overshadowed in a somewhat thankless role.
The other members of Joy Division have little to do, but do feature in some of the most effective scenes; Toby Kebbell and Craig Parkinson, as the band’s manager and promoter, respectively, make the biggest impression among the supporting cast.
Film is highlighted by numerous musical sequences, with a generous selection of Joy Division songs accompanied by other punk and post-punk influences of the era; my favorite: an all-too-brief cameo by spoken word artist John Cooper Clarke, performing Evidently Chickentown.
Ultimately, Control is deliberately paced, bleak, depressing; not exactly a happy (or even entertaining) film.
Like a lot Ingmar Bergman’s films, it’s not something you’ll be in a rush to re-watch; but it is something you’ll be glad to have seen, and a film you’re not likely to forget. Based on the autobiography by Deborah Curtis, who also co-produced.
3 Responses
I was captivated by the whole movie and actually wouldn’t mind watching it again. Something I would have appreciated seeing in theaters.
It moved me, me being a musician I could relate. I could also relate to his depression and the feeling of wanting isolation rather popularity.
Ian wasn’t a fat head musician, who wanted to get rich and be adored by fans, rather Joy Division was an outlet for him and it made me cry when he was discovered hung, sadly that’s how his wife found him, at least according to the story.
It destroys the illusion that fame and living glamorous lifestyle of a rockstar is all fun and fortune that fans may imagine, it’s just a small part of it.
It’s hard work and takes a lot out of you physically and emotionally and record company making money off your talent.
It gets 5 stars from me.