Running time: 129 minutes
Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Bill Nighy, Rhys Ifans, Chris O'Dowd, Gemma Arterton, Kenneth Branagh, Jack Davenport, Nick Frost, Emma Thompson, January Jones
Rating 5 out of 10
Richard Curtis has been the English King of comedy for over 20 years now, with an extraordinary list of credits ranging from writing Blackadder and Mr Bean for television, the Oscar and Golden Globe-nominated Four Weddings and A Funeral and Notting Hill, to directing the hugely successful Love, Actually in 2003.
Unfortunately The Boat That Rocked is Curtis' first serious mis-step. This may be because the curse of the pet project is in place (Curtis has confessed that realising this tale of pirate radio is a long-held ambition), or the fact that the script is not up to his usual high standards. He has also undertaken directing duties, as he did on Love, Actually, which may also have detracted from the quality of the final product.
A case in point is Jack Davenport's character, a government underling sent by the (one-dimensional) minister, played by Kenneth Branagh, to stop the burgeoning business in off-shore radio in the North Sea in the 1960s. Davenport's character, in an unsuccessful attempt to recapture the 'Darling' factor of Tim McInnerny's character in Blackadder, is called Twatt. So there are plenty of supposed 'jokes' based on Twatt-this or Twatt-that. None of them are funny and elicited groans at the screening I attended, all for the wrong reasons.
It's a real shame as there is a great cast, but they are floudering in a sea of semi-connected sketches which seem to have little in the way of a 'plot'. Nick Frost is a lumbering love DJ on board a boat run by Bill Nighy's suave suited businessman. Irish comic Chris O'Dowd is a naive record-spinner while Philip Seymour Hoffman and Rhys Ifans play rivals for the position of top dog.
The cast are all great - with the unusual exception of Branagh. It's not his fault, but it would have been much better to see him as a DJ rather than the uptight Minister which he can play in his sleep. But they really don't have much to hang on to here, and it soon becomes pretty clear that The Boat That Rocked is a good idea in search of a plot. It's not a film that rocks, but instead one that is adrift and moribund in an ocean of bad choices.
Paul Hurley
Unfortunately The Boat That Rocked is Curtis' first serious mis-step. This may be because the curse of the pet project is in place (Curtis has confessed that realising this tale of pirate radio is a long-held ambition), or the fact that the script is not up to his usual high standards. He has also undertaken directing duties, as he did on Love, Actually, which may also have detracted from the quality of the final product.
A case in point is Jack Davenport's character, a government underling sent by the (one-dimensional) minister, played by Kenneth Branagh, to stop the burgeoning business in off-shore radio in the North Sea in the 1960s. Davenport's character, in an unsuccessful attempt to recapture the 'Darling' factor of Tim McInnerny's character in Blackadder, is called Twatt. So there are plenty of supposed 'jokes' based on Twatt-this or Twatt-that. None of them are funny and elicited groans at the screening I attended, all for the wrong reasons.
It's a real shame as there is a great cast, but they are floudering in a sea of semi-connected sketches which seem to have little in the way of a 'plot'. Nick Frost is a lumbering love DJ on board a boat run by Bill Nighy's suave suited businessman. Irish comic Chris O'Dowd is a naive record-spinner while Philip Seymour Hoffman and Rhys Ifans play rivals for the position of top dog.
The cast are all great - with the unusual exception of Branagh. It's not his fault, but it would have been much better to see him as a DJ rather than the uptight Minister which he can play in his sleep. But they really don't have much to hang on to here, and it soon becomes pretty clear that The Boat That Rocked is a good idea in search of a plot. It's not a film that rocks, but instead one that is adrift and moribund in an ocean of bad choices.
Paul Hurley
