Pirate Radio (2009)

The British comedy “Pirate Radio” was called “The Boat That Rocked” during its original release in the United Kingdom. Nerd news accounts indicate the film not only was re-titled but re-edited on the trip over the Atlantic. And I can see where: Despite the best soundtrack since “Almost Famous,” this Richard Curtis-directed film is more pop, than rock.

“Pirate” follows a boatload of (mostly true?) Brit radio DJs who blast the Devil’s Music – The Who, Rolling Stones and Kinks -- toward shore from an old fishing vessel, much to the chagrin of proper English pricks on land. The ragtag radio crew includes Bill Nighy (“Underworld”) as the leader, Rhys Ifans as a cooler-than-thou DJ god and Philip Seymour Hoffman as an American away from home. The scenes with these blokes and their groupie fans all are a blast, if not a bit coy. For 1960s hellions, these guys and gals are tame compared to, say, the cast of “Gossip Girl.”

The boat ride truly goes all stop when it hits shore to document the English pricks, mainly a fascist bureaucrat (Kenneth Branagh) and his lapdog assistant (Jack Davenport). The lapdog’s surname actually is Twatt. Ugh. It’s that kind of film – marketed to adults, but written for teens who might not even fully get that joke. Worse, Branagh says the surname to infinity and beyond, “I like Twatt!” and then follows it up with 30 lines where he means to say he’ll dispose of the radio jocks, but ends up spilling out Freudian descriptions of gay sex. Yadda yadda ... y'know.

The gorgeous look of the film, the killer soundtrack – classic after classic rock song played out end to end -- and the top notch cast having a blast make this film hard to hate. But it’s equally difficult to love a film that had me thinking, “Ohh, I gotta Netflix the real version.” B-