Look, we're not saying that a drastic re-titling of a film for every country its released in is necessarily a sign that it's a bit rubbish. We're just saying that The Boat That Rocked is an awful excuse for a film and the distributors clearly knew that, which is why its otherwise known as Pirate Radio in America, Good Morning England in France, Radio Rock Revolution in Germany, and I Love Radio Rock in Italy. It doesn't matter how much you try and dress it up or disguise it as something else, it's still The Boat That Rocked, and it's still terrible. Directed by British luvvy supreme Richard Curtis, the movie shows that sort of swinging sixties that doesn't exist anywhere except in nostalgic films by sad old men, BBC Four documentaries starring sad old men, or archival issues of the NME mostly bought by sad old men. Loosely adapted from the true stories of pirate radio shows of the era which avoided detection by transmitting from international waters, what could have been a fun premise ended up being an embarassing shambles of comedy bit-parts and a tacked-on romance between Tom Sturridge and Talulah Riley (us neither). Oh and Philip Seymour Hoffman's in there, too. Hoffman plays "The Count", a brash American DJ loosely based on Emperor Rosko, essentially reprising his role as the intense and obsessive Lester Bangs from Almost Famous. Except now he's had all the interesting and dangerous bits shorn off and been turned into a totally one-dimensional, tedious caricature of the sort he managed to avoid when playing Bangs. It probably helped that the script was written by Cameron Crowe instead of Richard Curtis, and that the film was Almost Famous instead of The Boat That Rocked but whatever the reason, this was one sucky performance.
Tom Baker is the Comics Editor at WhatCulture! He's heard all the Doctor Who jokes, but not many about Randall and Hopkirk. He also blogs at http://communibearsilostate.wordpress.com/
