Control | Review

Encircling the young and tormented life of the lead singer of 70’s punk rock band Joy Division, Control acts as a caring, yet critical portrait of a burgeoning singer front man whose life was cut short far too early in life. Known as an image architect for recording artists with his commercial, photo and music video work, Anton Corbijn’s directorial debut is the sort of passion project that avoids the shortcomings of many run-of-the-mill contraptions as most recently exemplified with the biographic portraits of Ray Charles and Johnny Cash. Driven by a strong lead performance by a newly found talent, served by its well-dispersed “live” soundtrack and shaped by first-rate compositions that are not meant to astound but instead frame the fractured soul, this opening selection for 2007 Cannes’ Directors Fortnight section should appeal to anyone who fancies the particular subject matter and for those who have a profound distaste for the many examples of skewed Hollywood interpretations of icons in the music industry. This will undoubtedly create a new interest in the short-lived band.

The title refers back to one of Ian Curtis’ lyrical compositions (She’s in Control) but it also suggests that he could never really get a grip on many facets of his personal life, physical health, emotional setbacks and finally the burden of carrying and caring for his band’s mushrooming success. Adapted from the memoir from his wife Deborah Curtis (also a co-producer of the film), Matt Greenhalgh’s script is fashioned with a straightforward timeline first introducing Curtis as the mum bloke cocooning into a comfortable existence. Security for the young Curtis comes in the form of his girlfriend turned quickly into his wife – look for a subtle three-shot that announces that fate.

Sam Riley, a relative unknown might have to deal with his own issues of instant stardom, here he looks hauntingly similar to Curtis and invests himself emotionally and physically in the role. He offers the sort of raw energy that is dearly needed for a stage persona and surprinsingly he is versatile as an actor and singer – his strong pipes (vocals) and stage swagger are xeroxs of the emblematic Curtis.

Initially, Samantha Morton’s Debbie comes across as the wife left at home and is destined to become a non factor, but the storyline includes her feelings of abandonment while Curtis’ martial affairs with a little French-speaking euro-flavored exotic reporter in the understatedly good looking Alexandra Maria Lara seals his fate. Fans of the posthumous New Order might be able to read the intricacies of the other band members – but it is the supporting players of wife and girlfriend that make significant contributions to the protagonist’s emotional imbalance and when added to other footnotes it exemplifies why Curtis was unprepared not only for fatherhood but also his new title of poet-turned-rock-star – as the famed talent finder Tony Wilson points out that just when everything is coming together that for Ian it seems to be coming apart.

The good news is that despite the subject matter and the denouement, this is far from being a downer – the mature script decision to include humor is a gamble that pays off especially with the anti-funeral parlor persona of the upbeat manager Rob Gretton played by Toby Kebbell. There also seems to be a consciousness about how to include some of the works from Joy Division within the text – most are played live and offer an insight of empowering nature of the stage – definite stand out moments come with the bursts of energy from titles like “Transmission” and the first song to break the film from ‘intro’ mode into ‘breakthrough’ mode is an amplified “No Love Lost”.

Shot on location in the backdrop of distinctly-looking neighborhood origins of the band, this when juxtaposed with the sort of establishing shots so frequent in Corbijn’s videos gives a sense of the temporal space that made young people want to get out readily understood. The manner in which he lights the actor’s faces, how he indulges in silhouettes and how he frames character moods and behaviors are choices that are just as lucid as the reason to go black and white. But the aesthetic choice of choosing black and white is more interrelated to the fact that all memories of Curtis among the general populous and perhaps in back history of Corbijn and Curtis (whom both worked together in glorious non-colors photo shoots) are embedded in this unique approach.

The way the story goes is that Curtis committed suicide moments before the start of what could have been a life-changing U.S tour. Comparisons will certainly be drawn to another genius who had too much problems dealing with the success in Nirvana and frontman Kurt Cobain (Corbijn was also a video director for this band). Corbijn handles this portion of the film with poise – no signs of overconfidence but instead a minimalism that sometimes has a way of giving more depth to a subject matter – here it amplifies the unsettling, yet satisfyingly tragic life story. The only signs of bravado that Corbijn indulge in are the filming of the live show sequences – he easily delivers the goods and Riley’s stage swagger is contagious eye candy.

A superior follow up to a film like 24 Hour Party People, Control is indeed for a select audience, but the rare balance of biographical detail, emotional empathy and restrained execution makes this a musical bio that beats to the sound of a different drum.

May 17th, 2007- Cannes’ Quinzaine de Realisteurs/Directors’ Fortnight

Rating 4 stars