The Boat That Rocked itself embodies this conundrum. On the one hand, its magnificent soundtrack makes it clear why 60s pop was to become so exalted. The rest of the film, however, exemplifies some of the most dispiriting features of going demotic. Sentimentality you can stand your spoon up in. Characters thinner than cardboard. Trite dialogue. Clunking predictability. Smug performances. Lazy plotting and threadbare gags. Brutal emotional manipulation. Deliberate refusal to engage with ideas, ethics or even reality. Surely, this kind of stuff must be addling our brains, destroying our critical faculties and rotting our moral fibre, you might well think.
These radio stations introduced enormous and enthusiastic audiences to landmark acts such as The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Kinks, as well as legendary solo artists including Jimmy Hendrix, Dusty Springfield, Janis Joplin and Aretha Franklin. The piracy was much to the chagrin of the government, which did its very best to suppress illegal transmissions coming from the waters to the homes of millions of Brits who loved everything they heard
The Boat That Rocked (Pirate Radio) is an ensemble comedy, where the romance is between the young people of the 60s, and pop music. It's about a band of DJs that captivate Britain, playing the music that defines a generation and standing up to a government that, incomprehensibly, prefers jazz.
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