The content on my disc all lines up with the original listings I’ve seen for the old video, so I’m sure that this is basically the original version, but the copy I have is definitely not entirely on the up and up. A quick glance at the box art reveals its photo scanned nature and the purple bellied disc inside is clearly a burned copy. The bright white top surface of the disc is Factory-esque in its minimalism, but since there has never been an official DVD release this detective work is sort of irrelevant. Illegally distributed or not, there is an audience for this material and no re-release planned anytime soon, so by simple economic principles it’s fair game. I know I was ecstatic to be able to see the thing whatever they were going to charge me.

Objectively, from a technical standpoint, it’s pretty terrible.

The footage begins with rehearsals from a Belgian show. The camera is out of focus and far away. I guess the point was to (in NME speak) “catch an intimate glimpse into the day to day reality of such an epochal group!” or some shit. Booo-ring!

When the show actually starts, it becomes quickly apparent that the footage is not going to get any better. It’s horrible, sub Mom-recorded-my-soccer-game level camera work. There are no close ups. Band members walk in and out of shadow, with no attempt to follow there movements, or even do much of anything. The sound is pretty rough too. Even a stone cold classic like “Love Will Tear Us Apart” suffers from a mangled synth sound, and lyrics get lost in the mix occasionally. I take back every bad thing I ever said about Lance Bangs. Get that guy a direct flight to the late seventies immediately!

The only thing that makes this opening sequence of songs bearable is the bug-fuck weirdness of it all. The shoddy lighting on the stage obscures all but the brightest whites, which are reflected back sharply with a bleached out effect. I don’t know if it’s related to the difficult lighting but the band members appear to have a cosmic “tracer” effect on them. I thought it was a crude slow motion at first, but what little you can see of Peter Hook shows him playing bass in time to the upbeat music, so I guess that’s out. No focus, but a tracer?

Then there’s Ian Curtis, who appears as a bubble-butted apparition, the bleached out light effect giving him a fittingly ghostly appearance. The movements he does on stage are really hard to describe, but the best I’ve come up with is that he appears to be trying to fight a swarm of bees with jujitsu. Wild flailing, coupled with panther stalks from darkness to stage front are constant, but his voice remains evenly measured in its intensity. Watching him go is really quite compelling despite the technical barriers the disc puts up to enjoyment. When the camera stops shaking and the sound doesn’t wash out, it really hits you how unreal this version of “Shadowplay” is, and you have to forgive and forget a bit.

Graciously, the footage improves when the focus switches to some of the other venues of the tour. Footage from early ’80 in Eindhoven is particularly effective, maintaining a close-up on Curtis for most of its time.

Under these better viewing circumstances, it’s much easier to appreciate how amazing this band was live, and understand how this scarce performance footage has attained such a mythic status. Take “Digital” for example. The bass line is higher in the mix and faster than on record and the tension created between the low rumble of music and the calculated vocal is almost unbearably good. “New Dawn Fades” is insane, with Bernard Sumner’s main guitar lick played faster and looser than on record, changing a song of icy restraint into a blazing call to arms. Because it’s being so awesome, the filmmakers decide that cutting the song off early in a flash of white is a terrific idea. Criminal.

Ultimately you get through the disappointing aspects of the amateur hour production because, well, this is live footage of Joy Division. As influential and towering as their records were, live they take on a different quality. The cold, precise Martin Hammet production is stripped away, and the instrumental assault is more violent. The function of Curtis’ deep booming voice changes from chief purveyor of anxiety to anchor for the storm erupting beside him. The band members stay mostly motionless as they grow more unhinged and conversely, for all Ian’s crazy flopping about he remains totally in control of his voice’s power. It’s unique and artistically challenging and super-tough to boot. Needless to say, it’s a tad better than Interpol.

By the time the concert footage wraps up, and the promotional video for “Love Will Tear Us Apart” kicks in, there is a certain amount of relief. For once at least you can see and hear everything that’s intended and even old, low-tech music video techniques improve on the rest of the disc’s footage by a significant degree.

With such frustrating content, I guess it makes some sense that the film hasn’t gotten a proper re-release even in the face of the 00’s relentless post-punk interest. No record company would want to attempt to market something that’s so poorly made. Luckily for fans who know where to look, that doesn’t matter so much any more, after all.

-Jeff Klingman

//Joy Division @ Wikipedia - Site
//Jeff Klingman's DVD series - Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Joy Division, DVD, Here are the Young Men, Ian Curtis, Bootleg