I feel responsible to say that the actor who starred in Ian Curtis in the movie, except for the long portrait, does not have a bit of Ian Curtis's temperament: what we see on the screen is a sentimental Manchester innocent stupid Boy, stuck in the cracks of the love triangle, can't stand the mental torture and wipe his neck. I don’t think the director will bring down Ian Curtis’ level to this level even if he listens to Love will tear us apart several times, recite a few philosophical poems, Bubble Girl, have a seizure, then find a noose and hang himself up. NS. We must know that in the twenty years after his death, a whole generation of shoegazer was inspired by his image and voice, and this Sam Riley in "Control" had difficulty even infecting my emotions, not to mention those such as Iconic "Beats" figures like Robert Smith and Kurt Cobain.
I feel that the main reason for the failure of this film is the memoir written by Ian Curtis’s wife. The movie almost copied her words and thoughts, and she didn't really understand why Ian Curtis wanted to judge herself from beginning to end. Anyway, if she really understood, Ian Curtis would not die.
The function of the movie is reduced to a minimum here. So many things have happened in his short 23 years. Are you telling them exactly like a running account, or are you penetrating the surface to experience the melancholy and depressed soul itself? , And then think of ways to show its sensibility. This actually depends on the director's own thinking level and quality, as well as his comprehension and feeling abilities. It's a pity that this film has omitted the part that imitated Ian Curtis's performance on stage. It describes the love and death chronicles of an ordinary Manchester epileptic youth, just like Aunt Qiong Yao. It's a pity that such an infectious character was wasted in vain.
I think of Oliver Stone's "The Doors" that I watched many years ago (I saw it at the Shanghai Film Festival in 1995!), it should be the best music biopic I have ever seen. At the end of the film, Jim Morrison walked to a kindergarten in a daze. A bunch of children came out, everyone holding a colorful balloon. He took a colored pen and mechanically brushed and signed the balloon one by one, looking up at the dazzling sunlight. Suddenly showed a bewildered and weird smile, and mumbled: "What a strange world!" Before that, I couldn't grasp what it was like to be decadent. I just heard the sound and never felt it. This scene flashed for a few seconds. However, that gurgling psychedelic sensation was so strong and deeply shocking that I didn’t need any words and stories. Jim Morrison’s state and emotions filled his brain for an instant. This is what a movie needs, a scene (can be fictitious), a feeling of embracing, and it really brings a real thought and state. This is what "Control" lacks. Its clumsy understanding and way of telling infinitely dwarf a character full of contagious thinking and emotions.
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