Like a lot of brilliant musicians, Ian Curtis lived a troubled, tragic,and far-too-brief existence. He was plagued by severe depression and the side effects of both his epilepsy and the pills he took to keep it in check. And, while his star rose as the lead singer of the massively influential Joy Division, his family life fell apart. Curtis wanted to stay in love and raise a typical family with his wife and daughter, but he drifted to another woman and, combined with his depression, it led him into some very dark days. It made the music of Joy Division and songs like "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and "She's Lost Control" that much more emotionally pure, but it also led Curtis to kill himself at the age of 23. Over two decades later, his story has been brought to life on the big-screen by influential music video director Anton Corbijn, who has previously worked with U2 and Depeche Mode. However, by the end of Control, you'll know little more about Ian Curtis than you did from reading this paragraph. Granted, you'll have seen a well-made, well-acted film with some fantastic music in it, but don't expect any insight into the meteoric rise and tragic fall of the lead singer of the in-retrospect ironically-named Joy Division.

From the start, it's obvious that Control is not your standard musician biopic. Corbijn and writer Matt Greenlagh, working from a book by Curtis' daughter Deborah, have no interest in the standard cliches of the genre, making a film that feels surreally removed from its subject matter instead of the standard biopic process of trying to get the audience closer to their favorite musician. In cold black and white, Controlfocuses on the story of Curtis' (Sam Riley) love affair with his wife Deborah (Samantha Morton) and how he struggled between wanting to be a family man and the life of a rock-n-roller. More than anything else, Control focuses on Ian's epilepsy, something that often sent himinto fits right on stage and completely changed his life. We watch, as detached observers, as Curtis goes through the tragic motions that led him to his international fame and eventual suicide with no real rising action or sense of emotional climax. Even as the film is drawing to an end and you know what has to happen, you don't get the sense that Corbijn wants an emotional response. Control is a film of "what happened" not "why it happened," sometimes to a fault.

Could we have ever really gotten under the skin of someone as complex as Ian Curtis in a two-hour movie? Probably not. A guy as depressed and troubled as Curtis isn't the kind of musician that any filmmaker could have turned into Johnny Cash in Walk the Line. So, perhaps not even trying and just presenting his life as it was in those final years is the best a filmmaker could have possibly done. But, regardless, the cold and detached style of Control makes the film far too forgettable in the end. The music scenes, particularly Riley's near-perfect work at looking and sounding like Curtis, are fantastic, but the film sags whenever the music fades. Corbijn pushes Control's atmosphere of detachment so far that it begins making the story feel exaggerated and unbelievable -- I simply find it hard to believe that the Manchester music scene that birthed Joy Division was as dour and mopey as presented in Control.

So, why bother taking Control? If you're a Joy Division fan, you're almost required to see it just for the recreation of the band's musical influence. If you're not, it's Sam Riley who will likely draw you in. Already getting tons of buzz, including some Oscar talk, Riley delivers a tremendous performance, not so much a mimic as a wholesale recreation of another human being. It really feels like Riley got under the skin of Curtis. We just wish Corbijn would have let us in too.