No Control, Little Joy: Ian Curtis

NEITHER AS WELL KNOWN nor arguably as influential a musical figure as Ray Charles or Johnny Cash, Ian Curtis is nevertheless a fascinating subject for a biopic. An awkward boy from the tenements of Manchester, he married young, formed the seminal postpunk band Joy Division, began an affair with a Belgian journalist, was diagnosed with epilepsy, and hanged himself in 1980, at the age of 23.

Seemingly validating the despair and alienation he expressed through his lyrics, Curtis' suicide made him a poetic figure to many fans and, more than 20 years later his music has inspired a new generation of bands like Interpol and the Killers.

Curtis' legend tends to obscure the flesh-and-blood man, making objective biography crucial but difficult. In the past year, two films — Grant Gee's documentary "Joy Division" and Anton Corbijn's biopic "Control" — portray him as a complex individual torn between his staid married life and the unknown pleasures of rock stardom.

Placing the band squarely in the context of late-1970s Manchester, "Joy Division" makes clear the band's only escape was through music. Gee focuses on the group itself rather than on its frontman, telling their story largely through extensive interviews with the surviving musicians (who later formed New Order).

The DVD provides a vault of extras — performances, more interviews, even scans of their manager's notebooks — that will interest newcomers but obsess ardent fans.

Curtis doesn't share the stage in "Control," which plumbs the singer's fragile mental state and his claustrophobic marriage. Making his directorial debut, Corbijn, a renowned photographer responsible for some of the iconic images of Joy Division, has created a gorgeous film, shot in crisp black-and-white that loses none of its immediate and immersive qualities on DVD.

Yet, as a storyteller, Corbijn moves awkwardly from one defining event to another — a common biopic trap — before settling into a more natural pace, and "Control" threatens to reduce Curtis' moral and emotional impasse to a simple love triangle. Despite these films' revelations, the ultimate record of Curtis' life remains the music he made with Joy Division.

Written by Express contributor Stephen M. Deusner

Photo courtesy Dean Rogers/The Weinstein Company