When the musician at the forefront of one of these films has long passed, there can be a tendency to really dig the heels in on some of the more controversial aspects of their lives. Other times the subject can be so innocent that the director wants to handle the telling of their story with kid gloves, so as not to even accidentally offend their legacy. Joy Division's Ian Curtis falls into the latter category. And although director Anton Corbijn tackles Curtis' flaws with tact and sensitivity, he's not afraid to get into the nitty gritty of his depression, and he doesn't fully let him off the hook. And that's important, because with the black-and-white aesthetic, the poetic performance from newcomer Sam Riley as Curtis, and the haunting manner of his early departure would make this all come off as unbearably mythical if not for an incisive, documentarian-like director working behind the camera. Corbijn is careful not to celebrate or glamorize the post-punk icon's suicide, nor does he seem to relish in Curtis' despair for the sake of drama. This is about as honest as a biopic gets. It's gentle, but honest nonetheless.
