In 1970s Macclesfield, a young Ian Curtis (Riley) lives the life of a typical angst-ridden teen, locking himself in his bedroom to listen to Bowie, write poetry and dream of escaping his grim, grey environment.

But his intensity and ambition set him apart, as well as attracting a friend's girl, Deborah Woodruff (Morton, surprisingly convincing as a 16-year-old).

The couple marry at 19, and Ian seems set for a humdrum, domestic life until he meets musicians Bernard Sumner and Peter Hook at a Sex Pistols concert and invites himself into their group Warsaw as lead singer and songwriter.

Warsaw become Joy Division and the band gain a following, including manager Rob Gretton (Toby Kebbell) and the legendary Tony Wilson (Craig Parkinson), who puts them on his Granada TV show and signs them to his record label.

(Wilson's signing of the contracts in his own blood, though disputed, provides one of the film's funniest moments).

However, musical commitments take their toll on Ian's health and marriage. His diagnosis with epilepsy leads to an endless merry-go-round of trial-and-error medication as well as a devastating lack of control over his own body.

Despite the birth of his daughter, Curtis embarks on an obsessive affair with Belgian Annik Honoré (Alexandra Maria Lara), an intense relationship that causes the final break with the long-suffering Deborah and leads to a first, unsuccessful suicide bid.

A few weeks later, alone and despondent, he hangs himself in the kitchen of his marital home.

Based mainly on Deborah Woodruff's memoir, this is a surprisingly even-handed biopic that avoids laying the blame for Curtis' infidelity, depression and tragic end at any one door.

Sam Riley brilliantly conveys the near-monosyllabic singer's inability to communicate with the people who loved him most, while never descending into melodramatic tortured-artist territory.

But the film's standout performance comes from the always excellent Morton, who commands our sympathy as the naive young bride whose hero-worship turns to heartbreak.

Debut director Anton Corbijn made his name with rock photography and it shows.

The monochrome visuals could have been another grimy slice of grim-up-North life, but instead reveal a warmth and depth to which most colour productions can only aspire.

Truthful, tragic and utterly compelling, Control is a must for any film or music fan.

Ruth Ford