Written by: David Entin

The movie Pirate Radio is a strange minx. It’s a quirky, energetic romp feeding off of its own exhilarating sense of nostalgia. This is a tale of irreverent sentimentality. It’s a fine wine, so appreciation goes to the older, rock-loving spirits. The re-branded, re-edited for the Americas romp Pirate Radio is a wistful showpiece of the sixties, and a ship worth sailing for classic rockers.

The premise merrily sloshes through the knee-high currents of musical censorship back in sixties England. The British Broadcasting Company (BBC) was the only licensed radio broadcaster anywhere in the UK, and its content was fiercely regulated. Ships modified with massive radio antennae took to the seas, broadcasting the pop music (now known as rock and roll) that the mainland and BBC couldn’t play. These legal loopholes turned pirate radio ships into scoff laws, though less fearsome than their pillaging cousins.

The story follows Carl, “Young Carl,” who is sent to live with his uncle, the owner of a particularly popular pirate radio station called Radio Rock. Aboard, Carl experiences sex, drugs, and rock and roll in a profoundly PG-13 and idiosyncratic way that is oozing with the essence of the sixties. The many personalities of the ship are made up of the clashing DJ’s, arguably led by the notorious American The Count. The British government isn’t happy in the slightest that pop music aficionados are bending their laws, and worse yet, that they’re pulling in advertising money, so one spectacularly unpleasant Minister Dormandy leads the charge to bring down pirate radio stations.

A talented ensemble cast fuels this movie and the best moments are the board games and idle small talk between the crew. Young Carl, played by Tom Sturridge, is an excellent foil for the likes of the crew. Bill Nighy is the proper and devilish Uncle Quentin. Behind Quentin is the hilarious Dr. Dave (Nick Frost; Shaun of the Dead) and the commanding Count (Philip Seymour Hoffman; Almost Famous). Radio Rock sees torrents of groupies, townies, gentlemen’s bets, and musical debates. The DJ’s are a loving band of loons all intent on teaching Young Carl the facts of life, and though most of these lessons involve condoms and more than one exception of the festively plump Nick Frost nude, it’s a riot.
The plot is overly sacrificed; the fun-loving rockers have it out with a particularly aloof Minister, and through the power of free love and anti-censorship, the world learns a greater lesson about self expression. The story is a setting, and the content of this piece is the hilarity of the men aboard Radio Rock and the government agents on their wake. In many ways, Pirate Radio feels like a maritime iteration of Almost Famous, but lacking the important message that Almost Famous delivered so aptly.

The events of the film take a back seat to the vibrant beats of the time period. This film is a musical tribute to some damned decent music, and is armed with a welcome bout of referential comedy. It’s a visual and audible treat. The ocean and the ship are expectantly large, but there’s a rhythm and personality to what should normally be a gray, British shipping craft. A flamboyant undercurrent of unrestrained expressionism, occasionally manifested as the absurdly sexual Gavin Canavagh (Rhys Ifans; Little Nicky) is a humorous attitude that the film maintains throughout.
What the stories aboard Radio Rock accomplish are an exceptional mixture of camaraderie, situational comedy, and a joyous, unrelenting soundtrack. The premise satiates and Pirate Radio leaves the viewer with a kicking joy and an indelible smile. This is a boat cruise with an excellent DJ, nay, eight excellent DJ’s, that’s well worth a DVD purchase.

Rating: 4.5/5 Falcons