The Third Coming: Mat Whitecross and Elliott Tittensor on Spike Island
You'd think it was the early 90s, such is the ubiquity of The Stone Roses on our screens. Spike Island is one of two cinematic tributes to the Manchester rockers out in June. We speak to its director, Mat Whitecross, and star, Elliott Tittensor
Spike Island, 1990. The Stone Roses – heroes of the burgeoning ‘Madchester’ movement, and rock legends in their own lifetime – play the biggest gig of their lives on a reclaimed toxic waste site. The gig becomes iconic almost immediately, designated the title of ‘Woodstock for the Baggy Generation’ – and, 22 years later, forms the centrepiece of a fictional movie. And, in a rather neat act of circuitousness, the key cast and crew of that film will hold their wrap party at the band’s triumphant Heaton Park comeback gig, in 2012.
“It was pretty special,” Spike Island director Mat Whitecross tells me, on the eve of his film’s UK release. “We finished the film on the Thursday and on the Friday we were watching The Stone Roses.”
For Whitecross and his team, it was a fitting culmination to a film that will prove personal to many. In rock history, The Stone Roses are an incalculably huge band – not just for their catchy, anthemic guitar pop, but also for their intensely loyal following. Responding to messianic song titles like I Am The Resurrection and The Second Coming, Roses fans tend to resemble an army of fervent disciples who would follow their godlike heroes into the sun. Spike Island tells the imagined story of five such apostles, a gang of cocky Mancunian teenage lads who make a mishap-laden pilgrimage to the famous gig, embarking on a Stand By Me-style coming-of-age journey along the way.
The film had its genesis on the set of the original Madchester movie: Michael Winterbottom’s 24 Hour Party People, in which Spike Island screenwriter and die-hard Roses fan Chris Coghill played the Happy Mondays’ maraca-bothering dance tit Bez. It was here, on set, that Coghill and producer Fiona Neilson first discussed the idea, initially as a TV show. At the time, Whitecross was merely a floor runner, with occasional second unit directing duties.
Born slightly too late to be part of the ‘Second Summer of Love’ generation, Coghill, Neilson and Whitecross never made it to the original Spike Island gig, and their hope is that, as much as anything, the film speaks to those who feel like they missed out. “I got into the Roses just after they split up,” Whitecross laments. “I grew up always feeling like I was missing out – something I think you do at that age. You’re constantly feeling like there’s an amazing existence of life that’s happening just slightly out of reach.”
Key to the film’s success was bringing the young cast (most of whom were not even alive in 1990) up to speed with the significance of a band forever showered with superlatives. So Whitecross sent all five on a “Manchester boot camp” to learn the apposite swagger. “We got them to listen to the tunes, we got them to read up on it, we found them magazines from the time.” Everything fell into place, Whitecross says, when the cast arrived on set adorned in the Madchester dress code: bowl haircuts, baggy jeans and bucket hats. The onset atmosphere was “electric”.
“Mate,” lead actor Elliott Tittensor confirms to me in an authentically thick Mancunian accent, “I had the most amazing experience.” Tittensor, whose mother was present at the original Spike Island gig, was already very familiar with The Stone Roses – “if you’re from Manchester, it’s music that crosses generations” – and his camaraderie with co-stars and childhood friends Nico Mirallegro and Jordan Murphy is plain to see onscreen.
But what would the real Stone Roses make of this deeply affectionate billet-doux? It helped that Coghill “basically became the band’s groupie when they reformed, hanging out with them on tour for a couple of months.” As a result, it seems they have given their blessing, not to mention permission for their classic songs to grace the soundtrack (“obviously, the film wouldn’t happen without that”). The band haven’t yet seen the film, but Whitecross is hopeful it will be well received. “It is very much a heart-on-sleeve love letter to them,” he says. “I really hope they take it the way it’s intended.”
Nearly three decades after coming into being, the recipients of this love letter are suddenly everywhere again, with headline slots at festivals around the world, and a Shane Meadows-directed reunion tour documentary also coming out this month. It is, Whitecross claims, “complete luck” that his film’s release coincides so fortuitously. “It all came together very quickly, and weirdly. The week after we got the money and were given the green light, the Roses made their big reunion announcement – which, to be honest, no one ever predicted. People close to the band were completely blindsided by it. So, yeah, we were amazingly lucky.”
“I got into the Roses just after they split up. I grew up always feeling like I was missing out – Mat Whitecross
Still, Whitecross is adamant you do not have to have Stone Roses tattoos all over your body (as Coghill does) to enjoy the film. “I’m a fan, but I’m not a fanatic,” he admits, “and I think for me it doesn’t really matter if you like The Stone Roses or not. I think everyone’s had that time in their lives where they’ve wanted to go and do something with themselves.” In contrast to the sunny hedonism of the gig, there’s a number of grittier subplots, and the film ends on a bittersweet note, as the close-knit group move in divergent directions. “I think those themes of wanting to make something of yourself should be universal.”
Even passing Roses fans, however, will recognise the visual cues from John Squire’s original album artwork. The opening titles – in which the boys wallop each other with buckets of paint – pay an especially deferential tribute to the famous self-titled album cover, with its Pollock-inspired splatters. “When I first sat down with Chris [Ross, director of photography], the first thing we did was pore through all the record artwork. These kids have grown up on the Roses’ music, and they’ve also grown up on the Roses’ artwork,” Whitecross explains.
“There was a really strong graffiti-style ethos to the artwork. It was a time when things felt pretty terrible, when everything was in decline, when it felt like you couldn’t really feel proud to be British or working class. And then splattering paint would suddenly turn something ugly into something beautiful.”
Back in Heaton Park, something rather beautiful is taking place. A 75,000-strong congregation is kneeling before The Stone Roses’ altar, with high priest Ian Brown leading the ceremony. In the crowd is Elliott Tittensor. He has “such a good time that I went again on the Sunday with my mates.” As well as a small moment of life imitating art (he briefly lost one of his friends in the crowd, just as his onscreen character does), it seems that here, art has carefully and deliberately imitated life. Whitecross was particularly pleased to see that the fireworks he included in his film were near-identical in reality: “Our set had been thoroughly researched by the art department, and they did a fantastic job... Going to the gig really felt like seeing the film come to life again.”