24 Hour Party People

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.

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 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.

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.

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.