A Festa Nunca Termina

It would be unfair to dismiss "24 Hour Party People" as a biographical look at Tony Wilson. It's so much more. It's a celebration of music, of a lifestyle, of a bygone era. It also plays like a Greek tragedy, albeit substantially more fun, but there is no shortage of darkness and tragedy in the film. The shifts in tone are particularly remarkable, as the film veers from its usual dry, sardonic tone into real pathos and examination of the dark side of almost any phenomenal success.

I'm not completely nuts. I'm not going to claim that "24 Hour Party People" is a visual masterpiece, or a film which achieves more with its characters than most accepted 'masterpieces' of cinema when it comes to depth. I'm not going to argue that it feels as complete an artistic achievement as one of the better films by a cinematic 'master'. Wait, what am I talking about? That's exactly what I'm going to argue. "24 Hour Party People" is as perfect as a film can get, not because it achieves the visual perfection of one of Kubrick's finer films, not because it marks a turning point in cinema history, but because it sets out to be exactly what it ends up being- a hilarious, darkly satirical and yet affectionate look at one of the biggest 'scenes' in music history, some of the best bands, and the man behind it all, Tony Wilson. A minor player in his own life story. This is one of the most purely enjoyable films ever made.

It all unfolds with a sort of inspired madness. The very first scene shows the charismatic, arrogant, and somewhat self-important Tony Wilson hang-gliding for a television report, then turning to the camera after that's over with and saying "You're going to see a lot more of that sort of thing in the film. I don't want to say too much, don't want to spoil it. I'll just say one word: 'Icarus'. If you get it, great. If you don't, that's fine too. But you should probably read more." It's not only a terrific line, indicative of the sort of dry wit much of the dialogue achieves, but also telling of what the film is going to be like. J.R. Jones of the Chicago Reader was one of the less infatuated major critics with the film (but still gave it a definitely positive review, which should give you some indication of just how well-received this film was by critics), and labeled Coogan's Wilson a a pedantic narrator, describing his story as having little narrative momentum of its own. I like to think that's sort of the point, and Wilson himself makes a point to mention in the film that it's not a film about him.

The highlight of the film, arguably even more than Frank Cottrell Boyce's screenplay, is Steve Coogan as Tony Wilson. As everyone reading this probably knows, Coogan based his famed Alan Partridge character on Tony Wilson's career as a television reporter, so he's really playing a variation on Alan Partridge here. What's amazing about Coogan's performance is that he manages to draw even this Partridge fan into Tony Wilson's world so much that I didn't care about any similarity. It's still a stunning comic performance, and excellent during the darker, more serious scenes in the film as well. I'd go as far as saying that it's one of the best male performances of the decade. The rest of the cast is too large to go through one by one, but everyone is excellent here, some going for a sort of slightly altered impersonation of the real-life person they're playing, some creating their own version.

A point of criticism often aimed at "24 Hour Party People" is inaccuracy. The film is gleefully inaccurate, and I fail to see how that's a problem. We didn't need a pedantic, touch-on-all-bases film about Factory Records, because Factory Records would never have made such a movie had they ventured into film production. This is exactly the sort of loose-knit and yet tightly-written film that is needed to capture the energy of the music and the movement. Boyce's screenplay goes through dozens of characters, none of which don't feel real, it's got enough pompous and arrogant philosophizing to turn off even the worst pseudo-intellectual, but it makes it work simply because it's got a sort of self-mocking sense of humor. The points Wilson makes by referencing history and philosophy are valid, but it would be at odds with the sort of film this is if they weren't written with the wry wit the rest of the film is, and if they weren't delivered so wonderfully by Coogan. The film is shot on video, and uses a hand-held style which far from inhibiting the film as it arguably does with some other Winterbottom films, just suits it perfectly. That doesn't mean there aren't some scenes which are explosively extravagant visually, because there are, and they are beautiful.

"24 Hour Party People" feels like a complete artistic achievement. It captures the energy of the music, the feel of it, the basis for the movement so well, but also succeeds at providing a well-told summary of the story of Factory Records, the Hacienda, and Tony Wilson. As far as I'm concerned it's one of the most enjoyable films ever made, and one of the most consistently successful. I don't think there's anything here that falls flat, it's all quite brilliant, from the first scene to the final shot.

10/10

24 Hour Party People is the story of Factory Records, a defiantly eccentric independent record label based in Manchester, England, which discovered acts as influential and diverse as Joy Division and the Happy Mondays.

The film is shot in mock-documentary style and narrated by Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), the founder of Factory. Coogan portrays Wilson's double life as music svengali and cheesy local TV reporter to brilliant comic effect. Although Brits will draw the inevitable parallels between Coogan's Wilson and his ultra-naff TV persona, Alan Partridge, Coogan actually has Wilson off to a tee. Arrogant and pompous, Cambridge-educated Wilson is master of the pseudish sound bite (when he realises they have no tickets for a concert in his nightclub, he retorts `Did they have tickets for the Sermon on the Mount? Of course they didn't, people just turned up because they knew it would be a great gig'). But he also has a perceptive eye for the zeitgeist and his vision to create the Hacienda club transformed Manchester into Madchester, for a brief time the music capital of the world.

The story really starts with an early Sex Pistols gig in Manchester, attended by only 42 people, most of whom went on to have an influence on the Manchester music scene of the next 10 years. Wilson was in the audience, together with members of the band who went on to form the brilliant post-punk pioneers Joy Division. The first part of the film is really focussed on them and their manager, the aggressive and cantankerous Rob Gretton ( played by Paddy Considine), and their producer, the irascible acid-casualty Martin Hannett (another superb cameo by Andy Serkis) - both of whom are no longer alive. Joy Division's lead singer, Ian Curtis, is portrayed so accurately by Sean Harris that it's positively eerie, and the scenes of the band playing in rundown venues seem remarkably true to life and capture effectively the rawness and intensity of their live performances. The film also deals, rather insensitively, with the death of Curtis, who's feet we see swinging after he has strung himself up on a rope in his house. This segues uncomfortably into a town crier announcing his death to the world, and ends with scenes showing Curtis's body in a coffin at the crematorium.

From then on, the story continues with Joy Division's reincarnation as New Order and the building of the Hacienda nightclub, and the sometimes disastrous business decisions made by Wilson and Factory. When New Order released Blue Monday, the record sleeve was so expensive to produce they lost money on every copy sold. The single went on to become the biggest-selling 12' of all time, paradoxically crippling Factory in the process. The first nights at the Hacienda were also calamitous, with bands playing in front of single-figure audiences. Eventually however, the druggy indie dance kings Happy Mondays arrived on the scene, and acid house was born. Suddenly the Hacienda was the place to be and the Madchester rave scene became famous all over the world. The scenes of drugs-and-sex-excess on the Monday's tour bus and the re-creation of the Hacienda club nights are superbly portrayed.

The final part of the film tells how gang violence led to the closure of the club and the drug-riddled misadventures of the Mondays, especially their singer Shaun Ryder, led to their downfall and had severe financial implications for Factory Records (Wilson had inexplicably sent them to Barbados to record their last Factory album). Eventually, Factory was sold, lock, stock and barrel, to another label (who were perturbed to find Wilson had not signed any contracts with any of the Factory bands, effectively giving the artists total creative freedom).

24 Hour Party People is a real rollercoaster ride. There are some brilliant acting performances, punctuated by cameos from real members of the Manchester music scene (such as Howard Devoto and Mark E. Smith). The merging of legend and reality may make it difficult for people unfamiliar with events to work out what actually happened. But this is no accurate, austere documentary, but a touching, sometimes surreal, and often very, very funny, anarchic portrayal of a time and a place and it's music. Oh, and of course, the soundtrack is fantastic.

Found '24 Hour Party People', telling the story of Tony Wilson and the rise and fall of the Manchester Factory Records, an absorbing and very well done biographical comedy-drama. Not a flawless film or among the best biopics or overall films ever seen but there is a lot to admire.

'24 Hour Party People' may go on a little longer than necessary and the final parts are not as strong as the rest of the film, with a sense that it ran out of gas. It would help if one knew and had knowledge of Wilson and the music and mania of the Madchester years, that way they would find that it would make more sense. As a documentary-like film or a biopic it is inaccurate and strays far from the truth, but as it is common in biopics it didn't feel as big an issue.

For its flaws, there is a lot to recommend with '24 Hour Party People'. It is a good-looking film with a good amount of authenticity, and having the touch of Wilson often telling the tale talking directly to the camera was quite a masterpiece. The vintage music is just great.

The script is also strong, with an adept balance of irreverent and genuinely funny comedy, gripping conflict and poignant drama. The story has a huge amount of evocative energy and is always absorbing.

It's very well cast, with a brilliant Steve Coogan who plays Wilson with gleeful relish and expert comic timing.

Overall, very well done. 8/10 Bethany Cox

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...

Ignore the awful ads for 24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE (which are bollocks!), and run out and see the film while it is out in limited release. Anybody with an interest in Alternative Music in general, and the British Punk/New Wave & Rave scenes should see this examination of the past 25 years of British rock as filtered through the eyes of Factory Records' Tony Wilson.

Perhaps a bit too "inside" for general audiences, it is a rare example of a music based film that its actually good cinema to go along with it's raucous soundtrack. Well done, wry and entertaining. My only quibbles are that the filmmakers seem to be preaching to the converted. Except for the tragic Ian Curtis (JOY DIVISION), little attempt is made to inform the uninitiated as to why these bands mattered (NEW ORDER in particular, is just tossed around almost as a brand name, rather than a living breathing artistic unit). Also, we are constantly told how wonderful Manchester is as a city, but we are never really shown why. Steve Coogan's portrayal of Wilson really makes the film flow and live. It's not the kind of role that usually wins awards, but here's hoping some critics group somewhere notices. He's that fine.