I actually met Tony Wilson a few times and found him to be an immensely charismatic and somewhat contradictorily erudite vulgarian who wasn't short of vision either. Sadly the effort here from Steve Coogan, that I felt bordered on mimicry, reminded me more of Jimmy Savile that it did TW and so from fairly early on I found myself a little detached from this otherwise quite entertaining narrative. Luckily, once we have established his credentials as a teatime news fallguy, we progress quite quickly to focus more on the formation of bands like "Joy Division" and that gives us an opportunity to appreciate other convincingly characterful contributions from Sean Harris as their almost robotic and troubled front man Ian Curtis and from Andy Serkis who's effort as the enigmatic producer Martin Hannett also stands out - all whilst Chris Coghill reminds us of just how Bez managed to bop about the stage engaging the masses below who were perfectly content to snort/sniff/drink and gob their way through the night in the latterly hugely popular "Hacienda" nightclub in a fairly rundown part of Manchester. Using Coogan's sometimes quite pithy out-of-vision narration it also reminds us of just how bands like "New Order" and "The Stone Roses" became household names during this period and at how precarious the whole business of live music and hospitality was as the lucrative drugs trade began to attract the unwelcome attention of gangs and the authorities. Frank Cottrell Boyce delivers a witty and earthy script that doesn't often miss and hit the wall and with Michael Winterbottom painting us a picture of a man whom it wasn't always easy to like, or respect - just ask his early wives, were are exposed to a man that who was innovative and creative and given that he was still alive when this was released, was clearly no prude when it came to exposing himself, warts and all to an audience who were not bothered unduly about any fact-checking. This has a rawness to it that works well - I just wish they'd cast someone else in the lead.