24 Hour Party People

This is, was and forever will be one of my favourite films of all time. A joyous love letter to the music, magic and madmen of Manchester, 24 Hour Party People is utterly, utterly exhilarating. Even if you don't know your New Order from your Durutti Column, you'll be hard-pressed not to get a kick out of Michael Winterbottom and Frank Cottrel Boyce's freewheeling depiction of a great time in pop culture.

In a nutshell, this is the story of a scene, a scene that grew out of the british punk explosion of the mid seventies. Inspired by the rising vibe in his home town, television presenter Tony Wilson, with the aid of colleagues Rob Gretton and Alan Erasmus created Factory Records. Factory is, as described in the film "an experiment in human nature", with no written contracts (barring one written on a napkin in Wilson's own blood) and total creative freedom for its acts. From the mid seventies to the early nineties, Factory launched a barrage of fresh and exciting talent on an unsuspecting world, ranging from punk (Joy Division, later to become New Order) to house (A Guy Called Gerald) and dance (Happy Mondays). At the centre of it all was Wilson, all the while balancing his empire building with a steady day job with Granada Television.

Winterbottom's film crams sixteen years of music history into under two hours, using and appropriately chaotic mix of storytelling techniques to rocket the story along. It's by no means an accurate account, (just listen to the commentary by Wilson on the DVD) but encapsulates the spirit of the Manchester Movement beautifully. The plot itself is split into two halves. Firstly, the early punk days, spearheaded by a promising quartet called Joy Division. Joy Division were the first notable artistic success of the label, but were hindered by controversy (the name was derived from the Nazi division of women who were used in an attempt to create the master race), gigs that often degenerated into brawls and most crucially, a talented, but troubled, severely epileptic lead singer, one Ian Curtis. The rapid rise and even faster fall of Joy Division anchors the first half.

The second half sees us bear witness to the birth of rave culture, aided along by one of Wilson's acts, the Happy Mondays. Formed by brothers Shaun and Paul Ryder, they blazed through Manchester in a blizzard of coke and heroin and shaped dance music in no small way. Oh, and they pretty much helped to run Factory into the ground.

Bouncing from hilarious comedy (a great deal of it improvised)to genuine poignancy (the decline of Curtis is heartbreaking stuff) the film is an utter triumph of wit, wonderment and technique. As Wilson, comedian Steve Coogan is nothing short of dynamic. Teetering on the right side caricature (and injecting a great deal of his Alan Partridge persona in to the mix) Coogan is the lynchpin for an otherwise wildly chaotic narrative. The entire cast do sterling work impersonating the Manchester luminaries of old (and by old, I mean young, before the drugs and booze). From Danny Cunningham's uninhibited Shaun Ryder to John Simm's gentle Bernard Sumner and Andy Serkis's fearsome Martin Hannet, (an arguably more fearsome character than Gollum if you ask me....) they're all great. But best of all is Sean Harris, who is simply unforgettable as Ian Curtis. He's so dead-on accurate its almost scary, from the haunted eyes and cheeky humor (witness his first meeting with Wilson) to the eccentric dance moves, its a performance that deserves every award in the book.

Oh and the music. Well if you're already a fan, I sure as hell don't need to say it, do I?

As it was, so it goes and so do I. See this movie before you die. Go on, rent it tonight, rent it now, buy it if you have to or if you're really desperate, just steal a copy. But please, see this movie, you won't regret it.

I was mislead by the trailers of '24 Hour Party People' have been very misleading. I thought it would be another 'Trainspotting' type movie about party animals. However, it's something different, something better. Though many have compared it to the likes of 'Studio 54' (Lord knows why), '24 Hour Party People' is a far better made and more effective film. Based on a true story, it takes place during the time when punk rock was subsiding and new kinds of music were born in England. Shot with a digital camera, in documentary style with some use of live footage and narrated by Tony Wilson, (who leads a double life as a TV reporter and music producer), Michael Winterbottom takes us into the rave culture in Manchester, that of sex, drugs and rock and roll. We see it all from Wilson's point of view and we are amused by the layers of his character. Coogan breathes life into Tony Wilson and brings an excellent humour in his portrayal. Paddy Considine and Shirley Henderson stand out too. Pretty much all the performances appear authentic. Watch out for cameos by Andy Serkis, Simon Pegg and Marsha Thomason and by real bandmembers. The portrayal of the Manchester culture, the scenes inside the club and the bands look very real. Winterbottom infuses loads of energy and craze to 'seduce' the viewer. He cleverly injects dry humour which only supports that this is more than just a documentary-like movie. The soundtrack is a must-have and for those who love movies about music, this is a must see.

This movie is quite hyperbolic about the Manchester scene which is portrayed with so much style, energy, humor, and gutty performances, that even if you weren't a fan of Joy Division & Happy Mondays, this particular musical revolution is extolled on a par with Memphis early 50's, the whole of UK 1963-65, San Francisco 1966-67, or Austin 1972-74. I wasn't a fan of those Manchester bands, but I really enjoyed all of the music in this film. And Steve Coogan's performance and the structure of his charismatic part are wonderful. And very funny.

Like "SLC Punk" and movies like "Rude Boy" and the Sex Pistols movies, "24 Hour Party People" captures the anger of the times and incredible energy of that socio-musical upheaval, and ultimately the sadness at the inevitable passing of a bright moment in popmusic history. When Coogan/Wilson brags about the birth of the rave culture in his club in his beloved city, taking credit for another major movement, I didn't feel his pride or excitement, only that sense of sadness at the techno-evolution of punk...

24 Hour Party People is just one of those movies that has that click with the subject matter. The actual style of the film corresponds with the music, the irreverence, and the energy of it all. But there's more than just the unconventionality of the script and direction; the film has that sort of stream-of-thought, wry, distinct British humor to it, and a sincerity beneath the absurdist parts. It follows its main character down the line, in a surreal way like a documentary, if that makes sense- we move between Tony Wilson addressing the audience (played by Steve Coogan, who is so on target with the honesty of the portrayal you can't picture anyone else in the role), an almost behind-the-scenes filming of it (I think), and a dramatization shot on pure digital, independent vibes.

Wilson, who sees the Sex Pistols play in Manchester (his hometown, and the main base and heart in the location of this film), is also a journalist on television. He gets so enamored with what he sees as an extremely important part of history (the viewer will get a good idea of this), he gets involved with the bands, the locals, and goes from just bands, to maintaining the Hacienda, a club. Some parts of the film one might expect, if considering it includes the rise and fall of fame (or rather, in this film, a lot of times in the mind), and the drug scene coinciding with the music. One knows that Tony Wilson is the main character, the protagonist, basically in every scene, but somehow he does not become the only important part of the film's success. The music too is a huge factor, and the speed it sets for a movie like this.

As much biography as musical, 24 Hour Party People brings to light the scene of Manchester as a history lesson, but an entertaining one to boot. Bands like New Order (the form after Joy Division split) will be known to most who follow music, but unless if you're not really steeped in the new-wave/dance scene of the 80's and 90's, some of the bands may sound totally unfamiliar. Still, this is not an automatic deterrent- the music is what it is, and most who will want to see the film will know what they're getting (in truth, the ratio of British punk and new-wave vs. electronica is fairly balanced). But even when some of the music doesn't stand the test of time, it serves the story all the same (some of the more interesting and darkly funny scenes are when no one comes to the club the sort of 'mix-way' between the two musical eras).

And all through this, Coogan plays it like a pro. The Coogan Wilson, of course, is far from the real Tony Wilson (one of the DVD interviews says he's a 'Jerry Springer'-looking type), so it becomes more of being a character in this whole environment that springs up around and by him. In a way he's kind of like a British Andy Warhol with the idealistic, serious journalist instead of the painter/filmmaker. There's a sort of checked insanity that underlays some of his performance, and yet for most of the time, like a lot of the better British actors, he doesn't play it more for laughs than he needs, and when serious drama/tragedy comes up it's still kept to this reality. So, along with him, and the music, and the strange form of putting together a dramatized, documentary/musical/black comedy by director Michael Winterbottom and writer Frank Cottrell Boyce, it all gels. This is one of the finest sleepers I've seen in a while.

So, the history is there, in a sort of hazy blotch of spurtches (those are real words, look them up), but of course it's told to us by one person, Tony Wilson, who everyone in the film repeatedly says is a c*nt, and potentially the worst kind, a charming c*nt that appears to know everything, is married multiple times to women he constantly cheats on, and appears to fail at everything except failure (he's apparently married to a former Miss UK as of the film's making). His specialty is talking out of his ass and spotting the next big thing in music. So, we're treated to the Sex Pistols, we're treated to Joy Division and New Order, the Happy Mondays, bands the kids don't know they know unless they know they need to. It's told tongue-and-cheek, and you know it must embrace the spirit of it because there are multiple cameos by the people who were a part of it. It also comes with a light of mockumentary about it, as though it needs to make fun of itself to keep you off about whether this or that happened that way or if it happened at all (and sometimes they will straight up tell you it didn't). A little too self-aware to be a masterpiece, but it's revetting and loads of fun to watch, all the same.