Читать книгу Tony Wilson - You're Entitled to an Opinion But. . . - David Nolan - Страница 6

It’s 2001 and a press conference is taking place to discuss the production of a film being shot in and around the city of Manchester, England. The film is called 24 Hour Party People.

There are actors, producers and directors present. Some of them are in visible states of disrepair as some bright spark has decided to arrange this ‘presser’ for the morning after the filming of key scenes realistically recreating a Bacchanalian night at The Haçienda, the nightclub co-owned and co-founded by the person who acts as the film’s central character: Anthony H Wilson.

Nobody calls him Anthony of course – or indeed mentions the H – they call him Tony. And the real Tony has decided to take charge of the press conference. ‘Right, I’m doing my day job now,’ he booms. ‘I’m back on straightforward presenting duties. This is a press conference. Who wants to start? Who wants to start asking questions about this strange film?’

Tony is in his element. He is effing. He is jeffing. He is flinging his own queries in the direction of director Michael Winterbottom and producer Andrew Eaton, ones that are trickier than the ones being posed by the journalists. He is answering questions that are clearly aimed at the comic actor who is playing him in the film, Steve Coogan. He is making comments about people, places and businesses in and around the city of Manchester that the reporters present will be unable to reproduce because of the laws of libel in the UK. And his phone keeps going off. The others shout at Wilson to turn the offending mobile off. ‘Fine,’ he harrumphs. ‘It’s Yvette, my wife…’

Some of the reporters are doing what journalists have been doing to Wilson since the early 1970s. They’re niggling him. Taking the piss. Hoping to get a rise. One in particular keeps returning to one of Wilson’s favourite themes, that music and youth culture renew themselves every 13 years: Teddy Boys (1950), Beatles (1963), punk (1976) and acid house (1989). It’s a neat piece of pop theory and if he’s right there’s another one due in a matter of months. As the PR person winds things up, the reporter tries one last time.

‘Tony,’ the journalist says forcefully, ‘about your theory that there’s a music revolution every 13 years. I would like to say that I disagree with that. I think it’s a load of rubbish.’

Tony Wilson – television presenter, record label boss, nightclub entrepreneur and professional pop culture enthusiast – looks at the reporter with something approaching pity.

‘You’re entitled to an opinion,’ he states. ‘But your opinion is shit.’