Running time: 117 minutes
Starring: Steve Coogan, Lennie James, Paddy Considine, Shirley Henderson, Sean Harris, Danny Cunningham
Rating 2 out of 10
During the '80s and early '90s, Manchester was the heart of the UK's music scene, nurturing bands like New Order (nee Joy Division), James, The Happy Mondays, Stone Roses, Soup Dragons and Inspiral Carpets. This wave of creativity and enthusiasm, coupled with the exuberance of the bands, created the myth of Madchester, a label applied to the ecstasy-fuelled club and music scene of the era.
Michael Winterbottom's 24 Hour Party People pays tribute to the city and its people with an hallucinogenic step back in time.
Opening in 1976, the film centres on Granada TV presenter Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), who establishes the legendary Factory Records label, with friend Alan Erasmus (Lennie James) and Rob Gretton (Paddy Considine), manager of Joy Division.
As music, drugs and dance engulf Manchester, so the Hacienda is born, a mecca for clubbers from all over the world, orbited by a host of colourful characters. These include Tony's long-suffering wife Lindsay (Shirley Henderson), doomed Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis (Sean Harris), and Happy Mondays ringleader Shaun Ryder (Danny Cunningham).
During the early '90s, drug gangs move into the city, culminating in the first ecstasy-related death at the Hacienda. As the nightclub becomes a victim of its own success, so Factory Records also falters, plunged towards bankruptcy by financial mismanagement and the irresponsibility of the signed artists.
Coogan plays Wilson as an Alan Partridge-lite simpleton, whose rise to fame was the result of good fortune rather than any entrepreneurial or musical insight. It's difficult to feel any sympathy or connection with him when his business empire begins to crumble - indeed, he doesn't seem very upset.
The juxtaposition of comedy and drama is extremely awkward - the film often ricochets between Wilson's pratfalling and archive footage, or even tragedy (Curtis's suicide). The disjointed nature of the film is exacerbated by Winterbottom's hyperactive direction and the snappy editing - it's enough to give anybody eye ache.
The film offers a very narrow overview of the Madchester music scene, focusing on the Happy Mondays at the expense of the other bands. New Order are given particularly short shrift, disappearing almost completely for the final hour. I should have been mad fer 24 Hour Party People - instead, I couldn't wait to leave.
If the film-makers had bothered to use New Order's anthemic Blue Monday on the soundtrack, which includes the lyric "How does it feel?", I might have been very tempted to shout back "Lousy".
Kevin Murphy
Michael Winterbottom's 24 Hour Party People pays tribute to the city and its people with an hallucinogenic step back in time.
Opening in 1976, the film centres on Granada TV presenter Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), who establishes the legendary Factory Records label, with friend Alan Erasmus (Lennie James) and Rob Gretton (Paddy Considine), manager of Joy Division.
As music, drugs and dance engulf Manchester, so the Hacienda is born, a mecca for clubbers from all over the world, orbited by a host of colourful characters. These include Tony's long-suffering wife Lindsay (Shirley Henderson), doomed Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis (Sean Harris), and Happy Mondays ringleader Shaun Ryder (Danny Cunningham).
During the early '90s, drug gangs move into the city, culminating in the first ecstasy-related death at the Hacienda. As the nightclub becomes a victim of its own success, so Factory Records also falters, plunged towards bankruptcy by financial mismanagement and the irresponsibility of the signed artists.
Coogan plays Wilson as an Alan Partridge-lite simpleton, whose rise to fame was the result of good fortune rather than any entrepreneurial or musical insight. It's difficult to feel any sympathy or connection with him when his business empire begins to crumble - indeed, he doesn't seem very upset.
The juxtaposition of comedy and drama is extremely awkward - the film often ricochets between Wilson's pratfalling and archive footage, or even tragedy (Curtis's suicide). The disjointed nature of the film is exacerbated by Winterbottom's hyperactive direction and the snappy editing - it's enough to give anybody eye ache.
The film offers a very narrow overview of the Madchester music scene, focusing on the Happy Mondays at the expense of the other bands. New Order are given particularly short shrift, disappearing almost completely for the final hour. I should have been mad fer 24 Hour Party People - instead, I couldn't wait to leave.
If the film-makers had bothered to use New Order's anthemic Blue Monday on the soundtrack, which includes the lyric "How does it feel?", I might have been very tempted to shout back "Lousy".
Kevin Murphy
