Pirate Radio (titled "The Boat That Rocked" overseas) is the high-spirited story of how 8 DJs love affair with Rock n Roll changed the world forever. In the 1960s this group of rouge DJs, on a boat in the middle of the Northern Atlantic, played rock records and broke the law all for the love of music. The songs they played united and defined an entire generation and drove the British government crazy. By playing Rock n Roll they were standing up against the British government who did everything in their power to shut them down.
Life on board the good ship Radio Rock (loosely based on Radio Caroline) is seen through the eyes of sheltered teenager Carl, played by winsome up-and-comer Tom Sturridge. Nighy is cast as aging hipster Quentin, Carl's godfather, who's asked to watch over him in the summer of '66 while trying to keep the station afloat. That's after resident shock jock The Count (Philip Seymour Hoffman) turns the airwaves blue. On top of the raunchy rock 'n' roll music - essentially banned on mainstream radio - that's enough to rile grey-suited government minister Dormandy (Kenneth Branagh), who organizes a committee to shut them down. Curtis treats the story like a live-action cartoon, splashing the screen with lots of colorful mayhem - Branagh's mustachioed villain being the most caricatured element. There's skulduggery aplenty and yet this sabotage plot serves more as background to the madness of everyday life on the boat. It's basically a waterborne fraternity house with girls frequently shipped in. Carl is keen to get his cherry popped and seeks advice from slobby DJ Dave (a cheeky Nick Frost) while Chris O'Dowd does his puppy dog thing as sensitive Simon and gets trampled by groupies. A pimped-out Rhys Ifans further troubles the waters as a new recruit, an A-lister to rival The Count.
It's a comically gifted cast also featuring Emma Thompson as Carl's 'swinging' mum. Curtis takes a 'loose' approach behind the camera as well, allowing the actors to improvise in addition to delivering carefully scripted punch-lines. The result is dialogue that fizzes and crackles like your favorite vinyl record and is able to stand up to repeated plays. Of course the soundtrack is outstanding, chockfull of classics from The Kinks to Cream (and a bit of Cat Stevens…). And between the hard rocking, there are warm and fuzzy moments too. A subplot has Carl wondering if Quentin is his real dad, but thankfully Curtis avoids too much slushiness in resolving that issue, instead emphasizing the familial dysfunction between these rebel broadcasters. This is, nonetheless, a Richard Curtis film so in the end there's no escaping a free expression of love. But hey, it's the '60s and that's counterbalanced by some close-to-the-knuckle humor. A few of the set-ups feel lifted from a sitcom; for instance skinny Carl acting as a body double for Big Dave (in a bid to lose his virginity). But Curtis sets the tone early on so instead of jarring, these moments are laugh-out-loud funny. He also makes the most of the widescreen canvas, filming on a real boat and staging a finale so ambitious it'd make James Cameron's eyes water. The runtime is also 'Cameronesque' and could have been cut to make Pirate Radio flow better. A Richard Curtis movie that isn't a romantic comedy is a welcome change. The sharp script and deft touch of the former Blackadder writer deserves more. Here he turns to his true passion, music. His love for the sounds of the 60s shines through in this fond homage to the illegal floating pirate radio stations, such as Radio Caroline, which soundtracked the era in reaction to the ludicrous restrictions of mainstream broadcasting. Sensational stuff from one of the best writers of his generation and a film which will appeal to every age. That said, Curtis's reluctance to jettison scenes is understandable; it's a delight to be in the company of this crew, so much so that you'll be tempted to book a roundtrip. This gets a definite 4 on my "Go See" scale.
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