'Pirate Radio' review

Brit rock ‘n’ roll comedy that’s hopelessly lost at sea

By Geoff Berkshire

Posted November 12, 2009

Metromix

Back in the ‘60s, government-controlled British radio barely ever broadcast popular recorded music. So a renegade band of DJs took it upon themselves to beam out contemporary music 24/7 to the nation’s pop-starved citizens from a boat anchored just outside British jurisdiction in the North Sea. Among the iconic personalities manning the airwaves aboard “Radio Rock” are outspoken American “The Count” (Philip Seymour Hoffman), legendary superstar Gavin (Rhys Ifans), tubby ladies man Dave (Nick Frost) and flashy station owner Quentin (Bill Nighy). The group is joined by Quentin’s wide-eyed virgin godson Carl (Tom Sturridge) and stridently opposed by uptight government official Dormandy (Kenneth Branagh).

The buzz: Released in its native UK under the title “The Boat That Rocked” back in April (and available on DVD there since September), “Pirate Radio” was considered a creative and commercial disappointment. Since then, director Richard Curtis (“Love Actually”) has drastically trimmed the running time (which still approaches two hours) in an attempt to deal with a recurring criticism that the film wore out its welcome. (Another complaint—that Curtis plays fast and very loose with history—couldn’t be addressed so easily.)

The verdict: A soundtrack in search of a movie, “Pirate Radio” assaults the audience with a motley collection of random characters and vignette-style storylines in a bid for nostalgia that comes across as simply tiresome when it isn’t outright desperate. Characters unconvincingly preach the subversive virtues of rock ‘n’ roll while the film strains for laughs from the lame comedy of Carl’s attempts to get laid and Dormandy’s cartoonish prude (he has an assistant named Twatt—rhymes with rat—whose very name is an ongoing punchline that wasn’t funny the first time). The fine actors are mostly lost in a narrative that changes tracks faster than an iPod shuffle (cameos from Emma Thompson and January Jones are fleeting and disappointing), but Nighy can’t help sneaking in some amusing line readings and Sturridge displays a bit of fresh-faced charisma. Maybe we should consider it a sign of pop cultural progress that a film about rock ‘n’ roll rebellion winds up feeling so square.