Starring: Steve Coogan, Ralf Little, Shirley Henderson, Peter Kay Director: Michael Winterbottom The film: Neither a docudrama nor rockumentary, 24 Hour Party People is an intelligent - if deeply flawed - blurred-reality account of the hedonistic Manchester music scene from the days of punk through to the Ecstasy-fuelled days of 'Madchester' and acid house. It's an ambitious sweep which director Michael Winterbottom undertakes by using Tony Wilson, founder of Factory Records and the Hacienda nightlcub, as the pivotal character. Wilson - played adroitly by Steve Coogan as a more pompous, cutting version of his most famous comic alter ego Alan Partridge - is a great choice. The Cambridge graduate and dissatisfied local TV reporter pushed punk in the northeast of England after seeing an epochal Sex Pistols gig in 1976. This gig is where the story begins and whizzes through 15 years in which Wilson's Factory Records launched Joy Division, New Order and the Happy Mondays, and started the Hacienda, Britain's seminal club which saw the DJ replace the rock star and the rise of a new drug culture. It's a giddy story and the film shows Wilson both as innovative pioneer and as a generally despised human being. For all his success, Wilson never gained street-cred. Coogan extracts maximum humour in the part, which offsets the tragedies and downsides of the incestuous scene; Ian Curtis' suicide, druggang slayings and the tendency of key players to waste musical talent through excess. Some of the facts are dubious; in one aside (when Wilson catches his ex-wife having sex in a Hacienda toilet) Coogan tells the camera this is the version of legend and he is simply going along with it. It's a roller-coaster film as much about the feeling as the facts of the time. Historically, however, there is much truth and the recreation of the Hacienda's interior is stunning. Basic knowledge of the music and characters of the time will help it all make sense. Without it, the film probably won't work. The anoraks should keep an eye out for cameos by the real Wilson, Shaun Ryder, Mark E Smith and Mani to name but a few. The extras: Considering the nature of the film, the original should be choc-full of concert footage, interviews and anecdotes. Sadly it falls short, although there is an insightful featurette on Wilson, 11 deleted scenes and a commentary by Coogan. A better version - and the only one for true trainspotters - is available in Britain (you can buy it through online stores) and offers eight hours of bonus material on two discs, which includes commentary by key figures of the era, 24 deleted scenes and interviews with some of the key players, including Bez and Ryder from the Mondays, and Jon Ronson, who describes Ryder and Ian Brown as being perfect pop stars: 'Talented, grumpy, messianic and monosyllabic.' The verdict: A must-see for fans of the era.