Control

Ian Curtis had suffered more than any man should. Like most depressives, he was difficult to be understood by those around him. A teenager living in a Manchester suburbia turned post-punk rocker--lead singer/songwriter for the now infamous Joy Division--married at a young age, father to a child and dead by hanging at 23.

Despite "Control" being made by the stunning music video director and photographer Anton Corbijn, and inspired by the memoir "Touching From a Distance" who was written by his widow Debbie--who also found the body--there is a feeling of distance and isolation to the character. Perhaps his way of keeping people aside was his greatest legacy. Alienation and mystery elevated to an art form without him even trying.

Pretty-boy newcomer Sam Riley also portrays him in a very passive way. His performance might seem effortless, but there is a subdued discipline involved. He is economic with words, the entire movie seemingly happening around him almost independently of whatever he was doing--and let's not forget he is the main character. I am tempted to praise Corbijn for this touch but I feel it came natural given Curtis' absentee nature.

But let's just make this clear--his character is not underdeveloped--on the contrary, Corbijn and Riley fully embrace the enigma of a man who, as this movie efficiently showed us--was not that complicated. He married young, like any teenager swooped by adolescent love. So, it was not surprising when he fell for a Belgian journalist who came to interview the band. Annik Honore (Alexandra Maria Lara) is only there to be his mistress. But she doesn't need to be anything more. Curtis had one of those rare qualities you find in people that they can impress simply by being in your presence--an aura of fascination personified again brilliantly in Riley's subdued discipline.

Love tore him apart. He loved both Debbie and Annik. His inability to choose might've been due to his young age yet due to his depressive nature he gave away an illusion of wisdom beyond his years. Don't get me wrong--the man was a genius. Too smart for his own good, yet he pushed life too far and too fast and soon enough life pushed back. In one particular scene, Annik asked him what everyone was wondering: "I don't feel like I know you". She then proceeded to ask him what his favorite movie was to which he responded with "The Sound of Music" to her surprise--not to mine, though. It was so apparent that Curtis did not care for the rock'n'roll life. He was a simple man who loved music so of course that movie would seem appropriate. He hated playing for the people, debauchery bored him and his "epilepsy dance" wasn't as much of a rock statement as it was him embracing the aforementioned condition of which he suffered heavily from in confusion.

In the end, I must confess that Joy Division was a band I respected more than I actually loved. Their first album was good and a great introduction to rock's potential of catharsis and introspection, yet I loved their second one more. In both, though, Curtis manifested pieces of himself through minimalistic lyrics and his tragic suicide only serves to accelerate their and the band's legendary status.

Control, the story of Ian Curtis, singer of British alternative band Joy Division. The film is made in black and white, which adds a certain edge to the film. There isn't much drama or fast-paced scenes (until the very end, I guess), and that seems to be what everyone criticizes about the movie. Why do you think the director wanted it black and white? If it had been a sincerely boring film, why release it?

Of course they made up some aspects of Ian's life, but the fact is that Ian was a dull, depressed human being. He couldn't handle love, or fame overall. He doesn't show signs of emotion in the film, and doesn't speak much at all. Truth is, black and white was exactly what he saw, while he was spiraling towards the end of his life.

The acting is incredible. Absolutely spot on. Very very noteworthy.

I enjoyed Control, but that's only because I love indie films and rock and roll movies. If you're looking into this movie expecting some delicious drama and edge-of-your-seat thrills, just don't watch it. It's about a man who gradually fell apart, who gradually lost control. And if you can't see that in the film, it's definitely not worth watching.

The first thing that strikes you about 'Control' is its silence, and the chilly beauty of its black and white images. As a still photographer first-time director Anton Corbijn photographed Joy Division in black and white during their short existence. He knows how to get the remorselessly grim feel of the north of England in the late Seventies. (The boys came from the outskirts of Manchester. Joy Division formed in 1976.) This film (there's a documentary just coming out on the band too) is loosely based on a memoir of her marriage by Deborah Curtis, lead singer Ian Curtis' young wife, who had a baby girl by him and then tragically found him after he'd hanged himself in 1980, two months short of his twenty-fourth birthday, just as the band was to tour America for the first time.

'Control's' strength is a certain recessiveness. In the English style, it's offhand and avoids huge dramatic crescendos. That's refreshing. And besides the images and the restraint, the film is worth seeing for the concert sequences. The cast actually plays the Joy Division music live, and Sam Riley, who plays Ian Curtis, not only closely resembles him, but is a riveting and intense, almost at times scary, performer. When he says the public doesn't know how much of himself he puts into his performances, we know what he means.

The film is excellent at showing Ian's dilemmas. The band is a sudden success. He has an attack in their car as the band returns from a gig. Doctors tell him he has a form of epilepsy. He's given a fistful of pills to take every day and told to have early nights and stay off the booze. How faithfully he takes the pills is unclear but he suffers from their side effects in various ways, while late nights and booze are essentials of his existence. It doesn't seem that the English doctors knew very well how to treat him, and he was so busy performing he didn't take the time to go to specialists and have more extensive tests.

Ian had gotten married to Deborah (Samantha Morton) early--too early. On the road he meets a Belgian part-time journalist, Annik Honoré (Alexandra Maria Lara), and they fall uneasily in love. He's not strong enough to decide between the two women. Fear that his disease will only get worse hounds him, and the fits go on. Riley is fascinating to watch as he undergoes an increasingly visible meltdown. Other cast members are cyphers, though Joe Anderson, who has the role of Max in Taymor's Across the Universe, is the lead guitarist. Morton has a drab role but Deborah's unfortunate situation is present as a constant counterpart to Ian's story. The two other important characters are the Manchester music guru Tony Wilson (Craig Parkinson) and the band's wise-guy manager Rob Gretton (Toby Kebbell).

The creative inspiration of the band, the nature of their songs, the cast of their lyrics, the reason why Joy Division is a cult band today when it only existed for four years--these are matters the film is unable to elucidate. Watch it for the cool visuals, for the tall, soulful Sam Riley, and for the terrific live performance scenes. Enjoy the understatement, and the silence. Don't expect more.

Harvey Weinstein has chosen both for Control and for the soon-to-open Todd Haynes Bob Dylan film I'm Not There to have a slowly-unrolling distribution system, and hopes to bestow early cult status on both films by having them premiere at that temple of cinephilia, Film Forum, in lower Manhattan, New York City, and wait for the buzz of the cognoscenti to multiply and spread. It may work. But both films are tough sells. But A.E. Scott of the NYTimes has said Control is "enigmatic and moving, much in the manner of Joy Division's best songs." And that's a good send-off.

It's 1973 Macclesfield, England. Ian Curtis (Sam Riley) is a quiet enigmatic student. He marries Debbie Woodruff (Samantha Morton) in 1975. He works as an employment agent. On June 4, 1976, they attend a small Sex Pistols concert. Also in attendance are Bernard Sumner, Peter Hook, and Terry Mason. Ian joins them as their lead singer. They call themselves Warsaw and eventually Joy Division.

There is a sense of disconnection from this movie and a mystery about Ian Curtis. Sam Riley's performance, the long takes, and the black and white photography all make Ian an enigma. It's a slow burn but compelling. The tone is sad and respectful. It's very fitting of the band and its music.

For every icon, there is an unknown predecessor who paves the way. Before there was Kurt Cobain, there was Ian Curtis, lead singer of the post-punk band, Joy Division. 27 years after his tragic death, Curtis' incredible contribution to music is finally being recognized in Anton Corbijn's film, "Control." It's only fitting that Corbijn serve as director since it was his early photographs of Joy Division that reflected the band's dark, introspective songs. Corbijn went on to photograph and direct videos for such musical greats as U2, David Bowie, Depeche Mode, R.E.M. and Metallica.

With his first feature film, Corbijn avoids the pitfalls of many music video directors who inundate us with flashy and unnecessary edits and camera angles. Instead, he lets the stark black and white of the film tell the story of a lead singer tortured by epilepsy, guilt, depression and suicidal thoughts. The use of black and white also captures the factory town of Manchester, England in the late 1970s, a city crumbling under industrial and economic stress. Manchester has since rebounded and is once again thriving.

Curtis is played by relative newcomer, Sam Riley, who's quiet and unassuming approach portrays an artist inspired by his heroes, David Bowie and Iggy Pop. At a chance meeting following a Sex Pistols concert, Curtis bonds with three fellow musicians to form the band.

As Joy Division begins to flourish, Ian's relationship with his young wife, Deborah, continues to distance itself. Academy Award nominee, Samantha Morton plays the confused wife trying to understand her husband's depressed soul. The film is based on Deborah Curtis' autobiography, "Touching From A Distance", so it comes as a surprise that Morton's character does not have more scenes in the movie.

The key to Control is understanding Curtis' depression, which the film accomplishes to near perfection. As he battles epilepsy, the young singer lives in constant fear that his next seizure will be his last. His only option is to swallow a daily cocktail of prescription drugs with side effects so terrible, that most of us would rather tempt fate than endure the aftermath of the pills.

Ian's spirit is also tortured by overwhelming guilt brought on by an extra-marital affair with a part-time journalist, played by Romanian-born Alexandra Maria Lara.

The most telling scene comes when Ian records an in-studio track for the song "Isolation." While Curtis stoically sings into the microphone, his band mates are distracted with the normal banter that typically occurs in a studio.

"Mother, I tried, please believe me. I'm doing the best that I can. I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through. I'm ashamed of the person I am." The lyrics seem to fall on deaf ears except for those of the sound engineer who refers to it as "genius." But Ian's brilliance is also a desperate cry for help ignored by everyone in the studio.

The 27-year-old Riley does an excellent job of capturing Curtis' aloofness on stage. Singers such as Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and even the early years of Michael Stipe would often drift into the moment of the song. But when Curtis performed, he immersed himself into his own world where the music simply served as the soundtrack. Riley skillfully draws us into Ian's dark world with a range of subtle head movements and facial expressions to a whirling explosion of arm gyrations that came to personify the singer's stage performances.

Overwhelmed with grief, shame and depression, Ian finally succumbs to his demons at the young age of 23. He left behind a wife, a child and a musical legacy that is finally receiving its just rewards nearly three decades later.

For those looking for a story solely about Joy Division, Control may not be for you. But for those seeking an intuitive perspective into the anguished spirit of one of the most influential alternative bands in history, you will certainly find it in this depressing but incredibly beautiful film.