Creation Stories (2021)
Director: Nick Moran
Screenwriters: Dean Cavanagh, Irvine Welsh
Starring: Ewen Bremner, Leo Flanagan, Suki Waterhouse, Jason Isaacs, Mel Raido, Thomas Turgoose, Michael Socha, Ed Byrne, Paul Kaye, Perry Benson, Steven Berkoff, Rufus Jones
Creation Stories attempts to dramatize the life of Alan McGee, the Glasgow-born music entrepreneur who founded Creation Records and helped launch influential acts such as Jesus and The Mary Chain, Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine and Oasis. With a screenplay co-written by Irvine Welsh and production involvement from Danny Boyle, the film arrives with pedigree and promise. Unfortunately, the result is a messy, self-regarding biopic that struggles to balance mythmaking with honest storytelling.
The film is structured as a series of anecdotes, largely framed around McGee telling his story to a young journalist, Gemma (Suki Waterhouse). Gemma’s presence serves mainly as an offstage listener; she rarely influences the narrative and functions more as a receptacle for McGee’s recollections than as an active character. This framing device reduces many scenes to nostalgic snapshots rather than moments that deepen our understanding of the man at the center.
We follow McGee from his youth in Glasgow—where a Bowie-inspired teenager dreams of music industry success despite a strained relationship with his father—through his move to London, the early days at Creation Records, and the chaotic rise of the label across punk, post-punk, acid house and Britpop. Leo Flanagan plays the teenage McGee; Ewen Bremner takes over the role in adulthood. Bremner delivers energy and volatility, but he often feels miscast for younger stretches and leans on a performance style that tips into caricature. His habit of shouting many scenes robs key exchanges of nuance and makes it hard to empathize with the character’s deeper vulnerabilities.
The ensemble cast offers colorful portrayals of the Creation Records team, but many of these supporting characters are rendered as broad caricatures. Costuming and wigs occasionally read as amateurish and undermine attempts at authenticity. Cameos from familiar British actors and comedians—while initially entertaining—become distracting, pulling viewers out of the story as they try to place each face rather than follow the emotional arc.
The film’s treatment of McGee’s darker periods is uneven. Addiction, recovery and later struggles with agoraphobia are introduced but rarely explored with the seriousness they deserve. A particularly bleak low point set in Los Angeles is staged with hallucinatory intent, aiming for a Trainspotting-style psychedelic realism but landing short of that film’s grit and texture. Moments that should convey lasting harm are quickly resolved or passed over, which flattens the emotional impact.
Several episodes feel one-sided, particularly McGee’s interactions with political figures and his brush with the celebrity host Jimmy Savile. The film implies knowledge and complicity in ways that feel accusatory but are not explored with sufficient evidence or context; those sequences come across as provocative rather than illuminating. Similarly, McGee’s account of signing Oasis—portrayed here as a drunken, fate-driven encounter with a group of striding Mancunians—reduces the band to cartoonish figures rather than the complex, dominating force they were in Britpop.
There are, however, redeeming elements. The soundtrack is rich with iconic British music, and a few scenes capture the electricity of discovering and championing new sounds. The film occasionally sparks with humor and honesty about the hustle and ego required to run an independent label. When the movie focuses on the camaraderie and chaotic creativity of the music scene, it shows the side of McGee that made Creation Records worth talking about.
Still, the overarching tone feels defensive. The biopic reads less like a critical portrait and more like a curated legacy, shaped by McGee’s own influence over the material. That approach dulls dramatic conflict and leaves the viewer with an image of the subject that is flattering but shallow. The result is a film that never quite decides whether it wants to celebrate, justify or interrogate its protagonist.
For viewers seeking a clearer, more focused documentary take on Oasis and that era, other films have offered more disciplined perspectives. Creation Stories offers flashes of energy and a strong musical backbone, but as a character study and a piece of cinema it falls short. Its combination of uneven performances, rushed treatment of serious issues and self-satisfied storytelling keeps it from achieving the depth its subject deserves.
3/24
