Reflect for a moment on the idea of a group of disc jockeys in the 1960s on a ship beyond the shores of England, blasting the rock and roll of the era on unofficial frequencies because rock music is only played a few hours per week on the BBC. Now, imagine these DJs are hip, fresh, mod, whatever, and the government is stuffy and trying to shut them down. It seems interesting, right?
Well, this movie took that idea and went absolutely nowhere with it. The film was dry and tedious, with a storyline that sort of muddled about and never bothered to go anywhere. Pirate Radio is ostensibly a comedy, but the typical definition of comedy involves something at least resembling or approaching funny, which is absent here. Instead, this plodding dud of a film is more like a two hour blowjob wherein the baby boomers behind the movie suck their own dick about how great the 60s were. However, watching this tripe, you’d think the 60s were as dull as the performances and as pointless as the dialog.
The only bright spot, and I mean the ONLY bright spot, is the terrific soundtrack from the era, with commercial hits mixed in with some lesser known gems as well.
At one point towards the end the film almost came to life when confronted with calamity, but the listlessness returned and both I and the movie slowly fell back into a bored stupor.
There is an absolute waste of talent of guys like Philip Seymour Hoffman and Nick Frost. On the other hand, if you wanted to see a lot of Nick Frost near naked, well then this is the flick for you.
Pirate Radio is a waste of your time and a waste of the electricity it would take to watch it. There are many cutaways in the movie showing Brits enjoying the fuck out of pirate radio, which you will never come close to matching…in fact, you will learn to hate those people. You don’t need to carry that darkness inside of you. Avoid this.