There are two recurring elements in Richard Curtis' filmography (besides Hugh Grant and loads of swearing, that is): awkward romances and great soundtracks. While the former has always been the best known, Curtis now tries to rectify it with his second directorial effort, The Boat that Rocked, which firmly places the emphasis on music. With the occasional romantic moment along the way.
Partly based on real events, the movie deals with the struggles faced by rock and pop music to emerge in England in the early '60s, when the BBC only played one hour of that music per day. The solution: pirate radio stations, situated in the North Sea, playing rock music 24/7. The young protagonist of the film, one Carl (Jim Sturridge) is sent to help on the boat that broadcasts Radio Rock, and ends up sharing experiences with the eccentric manager (Bill Nighy) and the DJs, which include the sardonic Count (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the philandering Gavin (Rhys Ifans) and the weirdly lovable Doctor Dave (Nick Frost). Their biggest problem: the British government, specifically an uptight minister (Kenneth Branagh) who intends to shut down pirate radio for good.
With romance taking a step back (albeit with enough room for a fun subplot or two), The Boat that Rocked is an affectionate and irreverent tribute to a lost era, deftly blending the right tunes - "Wouldn't It Be Nice" plays during a scene that gleefully spoof Titanic - and a mix of sweet and raunchy comedy, with the latter having a more prominent spot in this very guy-centric picture (a scene involving the use of the F-word on the radio also serves as satire, given the picture itself, released almost 50 years after the events, is R-rated for its liberal use of expletives). Strangely enough, though, the political bit of the story, while benefiting from a brilliantly stiff-upper-lipped Branagh, is the weaker section of the film, if only because Curtis, famously unable to restrain himself at times, overplays the joke of an assistant (Jack Davenport) being named Twatt - a poor hangover from the fourth Blackadder series that becomes grating after the first few times.
Then again, such issues are compensated by a lively pace, creative camera work and energetic performances. Sturridge does a good job as the audience surrogate getting us acquainted with the team, but the show is inevitably stolen by the more consummate players and, despite Hoffman's riotous work, the best laughs are inevitably British, with Nighy and Ifans delivering their customary Curtis-inspired performances and Frost proving he doesn't need Simon Pegg to shine. And for all the male-dominated atmosphere, fun cameos by January Jones and Emma Thompson make for some truly funny moments.
In other words, The Boat that Rocked isn't exactly as good as Curtis' biggest hits (then again, not many films can match Four Weddings and a Funeral), but as a piece of excellently scored and foul-mouthed escapism it's quite brilliant on its own terms. Only a real Twatt wouldn't want to watch it.
Partly based on real events, the movie deals with the struggles faced by rock and pop music to emerge in England in the early '60s, when the BBC only played one hour of that music per day. The solution: pirate radio stations, situated in the North Sea, playing rock music 24/7. The young protagonist of the film, one Carl (Jim Sturridge) is sent to help on the boat that broadcasts Radio Rock, and ends up sharing experiences with the eccentric manager (Bill Nighy) and the DJs, which include the sardonic Count (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the philandering Gavin (Rhys Ifans) and the weirdly lovable Doctor Dave (Nick Frost). Their biggest problem: the British government, specifically an uptight minister (Kenneth Branagh) who intends to shut down pirate radio for good.
With romance taking a step back (albeit with enough room for a fun subplot or two), The Boat that Rocked is an affectionate and irreverent tribute to a lost era, deftly blending the right tunes - "Wouldn't It Be Nice" plays during a scene that gleefully spoof Titanic - and a mix of sweet and raunchy comedy, with the latter having a more prominent spot in this very guy-centric picture (a scene involving the use of the F-word on the radio also serves as satire, given the picture itself, released almost 50 years after the events, is R-rated for its liberal use of expletives). Strangely enough, though, the political bit of the story, while benefiting from a brilliantly stiff-upper-lipped Branagh, is the weaker section of the film, if only because Curtis, famously unable to restrain himself at times, overplays the joke of an assistant (Jack Davenport) being named Twatt - a poor hangover from the fourth Blackadder series that becomes grating after the first few times.
Then again, such issues are compensated by a lively pace, creative camera work and energetic performances. Sturridge does a good job as the audience surrogate getting us acquainted with the team, but the show is inevitably stolen by the more consummate players and, despite Hoffman's riotous work, the best laughs are inevitably British, with Nighy and Ifans delivering their customary Curtis-inspired performances and Frost proving he doesn't need Simon Pegg to shine. And for all the male-dominated atmosphere, fun cameos by January Jones and Emma Thompson make for some truly funny moments.
In other words, The Boat that Rocked isn't exactly as good as Curtis' biggest hits (then again, not many films can match Four Weddings and a Funeral), but as a piece of excellently scored and foul-mouthed escapism it's quite brilliant on its own terms. Only a real Twatt wouldn't want to watch it.