Pirate Radio objectifies women, but at least they’re smoking hot

Pirate Radio

Directed by Richard Curtis
Starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Bill Nighy, Nick Frost, Rhys Darby, and Kenneth Branagh
Now Playing

When a film casts so many of your favourite British comedy actors (and Philip Seymour Hoffman), puts them on a boat, sets the film to ’60s rock, and crams in enough hot girls to fill three movies of the same length, it’s hard to be critical, but a good reviewer does his best.

Pirate Radio tells the surprisingly untrue story of Radio Rock, a 24-hour rock-and-roll pirate radio station, during the time of oppressive British radio standards. More narrowly, it’s about a young virgin, Carl (Tom Sturridge), who after being expelled from high school, is conveniently thrown onto the morally questionable boat captained by his godfather, Quentin (Bill Nighy). Carl needs to come of age, and what better place than on a boat filled with drunk, drugged-up, and sexually depraved DJs? But the premise seems irrelevant, and more like an excuse to force half-a-dozen hilarious British actors into one place.

This is not your typical, sophisticated British comedy, but is broad in tone, and kills an evening admirably. While these freewheeling, fun-loving films have their place in cinema, this one is particularly frivolous. Scenes of debauchery on the boat are juxtaposed with those of the grinchy British minister Dormandy (Branagh) and his civil-servant lackey, known only as Twatt, who exist only for their hatred of rock and roll. When the principle themes of a film are the base freedom and rebellion, you can’t expect to take away much more than a good time, which it capably delivers.

The actors are amusing and carry the film despite never delivering anything incredibly funny. However, those of us who aren’t of the white-male persuasion might be advised to avoid the film, or at least to check their feminism at the door. The women, although extremely attractive, are completely vapid, promiscuous, and are regulated to the role of plot devices, objects of masculine desire and animosity. As for visible minorities, they don’t exist even in the most menial capacity. This is a story of white males, joking with other white males, bonding with white males, sleeping with sexy white females, fighting a government composed of old white males.

Although loosely inspired by the monopoly the BBC had over British radio and the pirate radio stations that existed during the time, every character is a work of fiction. While this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it does seem like a missed opportunity to tell the true stories of pirate radio. However, it can be faulted for the soundtrack, which is, despite the film taking place during 1966, composed of a majority of songs from the few years following. Hearing Cat Stevens' “Father and Son” four years before its release is a confusing and unnecessary goof.

Before this review runs it course, I must for another moment, properly emphasize just exactly how hot the girls are in this film. They’re super hot. It actually defies logic how hot the actresses are, by and large. It was to the point where it became distracting to watch; surely British women’s teeth couldn’t have been that straight during the 1960s. Eventually you’ll start to think that the girls can’t get any hotter, but the filmmakers manage to top themselves time and time again. Well done, Richard Curtis. Well done.