Ian Curtis is played with uncanny realism by newcomer Sam Riley – between the ages of 17 and 23, when he committed suicide. But despite its subject matter, this intimate and darkly humorous feature is not a music movie per se. Rather, it’s a passionate portrayal of a remarkable individual who unfortunately became the victim of personal demons – someone whose very existence changed Corbijn’s life forever. Over a cup of mint tea, the Dutchman revealed how…

Having initially declined the offer, what made you reconsider and make Control?
In 2004 I worked on something with U2 that went back to the early 1980s, and it dawned on me again how I felt during that period of my life; how it felt to move from Holland to London in October 1979 because of Joy Division, live in a squat with no money, and have music mean so much to me. I realised that it was such an important part of my life that I should look at it again and deal with it – get that part of my life over and done with.

So it was specifically Joy Division that made you move to England?
When the Unknown Pleasures album came out, I just thought “I have to go to where that comes from”. There was something about it that had a certain weight, a certain importance. And
there was something essential in Ian’s behaviour and attitude that was lacking in Holland. It was closer to how I felt about my photography. He gave it everything.

Recall your initial meeting with the band.
Those times were beautiful, nothing was beyond reach, and within 12 days of arriving in London I’d met the band. It was when they played at the Rainbow. I went backstage and asked if I could do a photograph the next day, and they agreed. It was in November 1979, and I remember the day vividly because I spoke very bad English and was also shy. I went to shake their hands, but none of them would shake mine. I was quite taken aback. But after I took the pictures, they shook my hand. The whole idea of the shot was that the band are walking away to experience unknown pleasures – so it’s a conceptual picture, in a sense. No one wanted to print the picture, though, because it was of the backs of people’s heads, with only one guy looking back.

How did such first-hand experiences influence the movie?
I’d met Joy Division at the time the movie is set, so I could tap into the time I spent with them. But it’s more the impact of listening to their music and moving to England that was the life-changing thing for me – it was my trip to unknown pleasures. It worked out better than I could have dreamed, which is why I didn’t object to financing the film myself. I felt that as an artist you put your money where your heart is.

Was it a personal decision to not mythologise Ian in the way that so many people have since his death?
Yes. I’ve had people say my photography is iconic, but I think that’s an overused word. My best photographs connect with a person. It’s not the onstage orgasm that I focus on – I focus on the pain of creation. It’s a different process, and I connect more to that element. In the film, it’s connected to a real person’s experiences. I’m not trying to make Ian into an icon. It’s about a boy who chases his dreams and gets disappointed.