Movie review: Pirate Radio

3 of 5 stars

Great rock ’n’ roll movies are hard to come by. Though there are exceptions — “Almost Famous” and “High Fidelity” — most films revere the genre through character nomenclature and an overabundance of rock references and, in the process, forget to be movies.

“Pirate Radio” falls into this category, as stock characters frolic in a ’60s spirit amidst ephemeral subplots and a supposedly glorious revolution against the British government. But while the film buoys through 135 minutes that don’t provide anything truly memorable, it still manages to be a hell of a good time.

In 1966 the British government restricts pop music to two hours of broadcast time per week. Thus, “Radio Rock” emerges, a 24/7 rock ’n’ roll station broadcasting from a ship at sea. The channel is run by a band of renegades ranging from rowdy DJs to soft-spoken rock devotees, but all are deemed criminals when British Minister Dormandy (a hilariously uptight Kenneth Branagh) decides to stop their efforts.

The movie is so punch-drunk with dancing and love-making that it becomes utterly unmemorable. Though the story is anchored in the government shutdown, the radio employees keep the audience’s attention with their nonsense. But in the end, all this ’60s nostalgia is merely an overplayed distraction.

Thus “Pirate Radio” totters between a love story and a defy-the-government triumph. Director Richard Curtis elicits the unoriginal contrast between tight, stuffy government and bohemian rock ’n’ rollers, but not until the two collide do you actually care. Young romantic trifles amuse in the meantime.

The movie stays afloat thanks to  a soundtrack of music legends and carousing camera movement, but  it won’t strike a chord with viewers seeking both song and story. Flat characters pass through meaningless subplots, all of which are resolved in montages that waste great songs on empty events.

Though it has a distinct pulse, “Pirate Radio” forgets to properly salute the protectors of a sacred music genre and instead sails off into the horizon as a vessel of satisfying, if frivolous, fun.