Creation Stories
The Glasgow Film Festival hosts the premiere of the Danny Boyle-produced biopic of Alan McGee, founder of Creation Records and the man who gave Oasis their first record deal.
“McGee was our Malcolm McLaren and Tony Wilson. An instigator and motivator, a born upsetter. I’ve never met anyone like him and neither have you.”
- Bobby Gillespie
Alan McGee’s 2013 book, Creation Stories, chronicles his biblical journey from Glasgow to the top of the 90s British music scene (via 10 Downing Street). Leaving King's Park Secondary School at sixteen with childhood friend Bobby Gillespie, McGee moved to London and founded Creation Records aged 23. Creation was responsible for some of the most iconic music of the 90s and McGee’s story covers it all: The Jesus and Mary Chain, Primal Scream, Andrew Weatherall, Acid House, The Haçienda, Oasis, Britpop, the excess, and the inevitable drug-inflicted breakdown - plus a sober return that sees him witness one of The Libertines almost lose their own face (seriously - read the book).
The book is now a film, with Trainspotting trio Danny Boyle, Irvine Welsh and Ewan Bremner reuniting in true get the band back together style, and it arrives just in time for the 25th anniversary of the release of their first collaboration. Creation Stories – produced by Boyle, written by Welsh – stars Bremner, best known for playing Daniel ‘Spud’ Murphy in the adaptation of Welsh’s most famous novel, as McGee. Being associated with Welsh’s work isn’t a prerequisite to appearing however, as Nick Moran directs alongside a conveyor belt of familiar faces like Thomas Turgoose, Paul Kaye, Michael Socha and Jason Isaacs rolling through to make an appearance. The eagle-eyed viewer may have even spotted Irvine Welsh himself in wig and fake moustache in an early scene.
Primal Scream’s ‘Rocks’ kicks things off as we join Bremner’s McGee in the first class cabin of a flight making its descent in to Los Angeles. He has crossed the pond to attend an Oasis show and be interviewed by a young American journalist, Gemma (Suki Waterhouse). This interview is used to narrate the film and McGee’s life, as we flash back to the bedroom of a young Alan McGee, played by Leo Flanagan, complete with dodgy Scottish accent. To be fair, Scotland is probably severely lacking in young, pale, red-headed actors who could have played the part of a rebellious teenager. McGee’s childhood is spent dreaming of Bowie and the Sex Pistols whilst dealing with constant derision from his old-fashioned masonic father, and this dynamic gives us some of the comedic highlights – sometimes a good old fashioned wanking joke is all that it takes.
Young McGee moves to London and transforms in to a wig-sporting Bremner, quickly befriending Dick Green, Joe Foster and Ed Ball (Turgoose, Socha and Mel Raido). Hurtling along at breakneck speed, the events surrounding the founding of the label, or specifics of the role played by each of McGee’s new crew, are completely glossed over. There’s a few scenes set against the backdrop of live music, where microphone feedback and white noise is added in what appears to be an attempt to really recreate the authentic gig experience. It succeeds in reminding me of the least favourite things about gigs, especially in smaller venues – the rubbish sound mixing and indecipherable ear sludge that it creates.
Like creating Creation, McGee’s biggest success stories are also streamlined in to a handful of short scenes. Screamadelica, the album that defined the early 90s Acid House scene and promoted Primal Scream to the top tier of the British music scene, is barely mentioned by name, and the film relies on viewers recognising the album artwork on a cassette cover or poster. Whilst this isn’t a film about Primal Scream, it’s a huge part of the Creation Records story and its success kept the label afloat. There’s no mention of Andrew Weatherall and nothing that highlights how this was a major change in direction for Primal Scream. Pre-Screamadelica, Primal Scream sounded absolutely nothing like they do on that album, favouring jangly guitars and a 60s inspired sound, and it would probably be fair to say that the album is as much Weatherall’s as it is Scream’s. ‘Loaded’, the unstoppable lead single from the album, is Weatherall’s remix of ‘I’m Losing More Than I’ll Ever Have’ from Primal Scream’s previous album. McGee lays all of this out in his book and it feels pretty pointless to make a biopic about someone, then barely include the cultural moments that they helped deliver.
McGee and Liam Gallagher
Discovering Oasis is McGee’s defining moment. The stars align perfectly – a last minute decision to attend a gig at King Tut’s in Glasgow means that he crosses paths with a band of Mancunians who have travelled North with another group to piggy-back on to their scheduled slot. After some wrangling with the Tut’s promoter, Oasis manage to play for 20 minutes. McGee watches Oasis play to a half-empty room and is swept in to a transcendental hallucination, with archive footage of Oasis’ rise to stardom flashing before his eyes. McGee approaches Noel Gallagher immediately after the gig and offers the band a record deal – as the old cliché goes, the rest is history. I like the use of archive footage during Oasis’ performance to imply that McGee experienced a mid-song epiphany about what the band could achieve, inspiring him to offer them a record deal there and then. The meteoric rise of Oasis is also given the montage treatment, with the caricature-level Gallagher brothers swaggering from King Tut’s to the Brit Awards. Maybe the whirlwind journey through these critical moments is a stylistic choice, to simulate the 100mph world of cocaine-fuelled Britpop, but again it feels like we’re missing out on the parts of McGee’s story that would be most entertaining. What was it like working with the Gallagher brothers? Did others in the music business need some convincing about his new band? Did they share any meaningful time together to build a Glasgow-Manchester bond to take on the suits of the music business together?
The less said about the third act, the better. McGee has a drug-induced breakdown in LA following a bender with Jason Isaac’s hedonistic film producer and spends time in therapy, then campaigns with Tony Blair’s New Labour. Whilst these things did happen in real life, was it necessary to spend more time on this than seminal moments involving Oasis and Primal Scream? Chequers, the sitting prime minister’s country getaway, plays host to the most bizarre scene in the film – an encounter with Jimmy Saville. Sadly, it feels awfully misplaced and an excuse for Welsh and co-writer Dean Cavanagh to take a swipe at the government for not recognising that Saville was a massive paedophile. I’m all for sticking the boot in to Saville, or Tony Blair, but it is a pretty farcical way to end things.
For me, the film was a major disappointment and feels like a missed opportunity to make an interesting film with cult appeal. You may hear people say that Danny Boyle’s influence as producer is obvious – but there’s none of the slick, sexy filmmaking of Trainspotting or Shallow Grave. When you watch something that is based on real events, it’s rewarding to be shown things that go below the surface and provide interesting anecdotes or information that tell us more about the things that you probably already knew. People who are interested in an Alan McGee biopic already know he signed Oasis and released Screamadelica – what they are looking for is the “wait – do you reckon that actually happened?” moment. Maybe the truth is that there isn’t anything particularly glamorous hidden under the bonnet to reveal? Maybe McGee’s role was simply enjoying the ride while he facilitated the release of the music he stumbled across? Maybe he just doesn’t remember?