A clear view of a broken soul

Rating: 8/10 (17 October 2007)

There's something about crystal-clear, black and white, beautifully composed, cinematography projected digitally that penetrates the soul.
In this case the souls illuminated are the same souls behind the writing, production and music of the film. That people are willing to open themselves up to such stark melancholy speaks volumes of the impact the life of Ian Curtis had on those who knew him. For those of us who knew him solely through his music and the press, this film serves as explanation of, an epitaph for, and an entrance into a troubled mind.
It's interesting that the illness that's focused on in Ian Curtis's life, is epilepsy. For me, what screams from the screen from the very first shots of the teenage Bowie fan in his room, is the depression and isolation that he grew up in and ultimately failed to deal with. Rarely have I seen depression portrayed so truthfully and compellingly on screen. Unflinching in showing us how he felt; that everyone wanted something from him, how no one could see the real him underneath, how he couldn't cope with both needing people around him and wanting to be by himself. He had no escape. Not from his marriage, from the band, from Macclesfield. We see this right up to his death, watching a film in which even a misfit manages to escape a life of alcoholism and imprisonment with only the help of a prostitute and a dancing chicken. This is not the 'Shawshank Redemption'. His ultimate way out was the only one he could see.
The greatest praise I can give this film, above even the great performances from the cast, is that it feels like it was really made in the early 80s. It has a BBC2 clunky-kitchen-sink quality ('Come to bed Ian'), that I think may be accidental, but to someone like me who lived in the UK at the time, is more redolent of the era than the twin-tub, pay-phones, and Andrew's Liver Salts in the medicine cupboard combined. It took me to another era of film-going altogether.
More plaudits for letting the actors perform the music themselves, adding authenticity to their roles and an evenness to the musical performances. Even more plaudits for having 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' as the only exception to this. Listening to Ian Curtis sing the words he wrote about the situation unfolding on screen before us in the sharpest of focus brings the pain he felt cutting clearly and directly into the hearts of everyone who watches this perfectly melancholy film.