The Boat that Rocked: Carry on drowning

Richard Curtis is an undeniably talented storyteller. They may not be the most complicated or original of stories, but he can spin them. But The Boat that Rocked is a horrible mess. The idea is a good one - pirate radio, pop music bursting into the uptight 60s society. The actors are superb - Rhys Ifans, Bill Nighy, Chris O'Dowd and Philip Seymour Hoffman especially, and the soundtrack is basically the pulse of the film. But there are major, insurmontable problems. There is no narrative. There is no characterization, beyond the crudest possible cardboard-cutout. There is no point - you can't score political or social satire within the context of a Curtis-ized, fantasy England. It is way too long and halfway through you are lost in meandering nothingness, not sure where you are going or why. None of those observations mean that it would necessarily be an unpleasant experience to watch - God knows, worse sins have been committed to celluloid.

But there is something even more serious than that. Misogyny is a strong word, but frankly it can be applied to this film. I am in no way a miltant feminist, and initially was embarrassed by the fact I was even taking offensive. "It's a Richard Curtis film," I thought. "Can I really be turning all bra-burning over a Richard Curtis film? It's only a bit of fun." As has been spelled out above, it isn't much fun, but after all that was the intention. I tried to think I was being overly sensitive - I hate all this "taking offence" business, this outrage-for-the-sake-of-it. Well, fuck intentions. This film was misogynistic. Not to say that the men emerge brilliantly - but at least they are supposed to be funny. I'm not outraged or baying for blood, it is only my opinion.

There are basically three women in the film - spoilers be ahead. Not that they're really spoiling anything, as mentioned, there is no plot. One is called Marianne. Marianne is a pretty eighteen-year-old girl, the niece of Bill Nighy's character Quentin. Quentin invites Marianne onboard, then invites his randy eighteen-year-old godson Carl to have dinner with her, promising him "a good time" - essentially pimping his teenage niece. But she's well up for it anyway, as it transpires. Carl takes one look at her (literally - no words are exchanged) and borrows a condom from his friend. After pretend mock-outrage, Marianne promises to sleep with Carl that night, only to leap into bed with a DJ played by Nick Frost having exchanged no words at all with him. She turns up later and shows Carl the promised good time. That's it. Pretty, nubile teenage girl, pimped by one elderly man to a teenage boy, shagging a middle-aged man on the way. She only appears on screen to be screwed, she has no interior life or characterisation beyond that purpose. She has more lays than lines.

OK. Let's move onto Elenore. Elenore is played by the stunning beautiful, and really quite talented, January Jones from Mad Men, who has the good grace to look completely ill at ease and nauseated throughout. A DJ, Simon, announces he's marrying a girl he met two weeks previously. She turns up, is said Elenore. After being leched over revoltingly by all onboard, she has what her new husband says was a "disappointing" shag on the wedding night. She then tells Simon that actually she is in love with his colleague, played by Rhys Ifans, who she met before she met Simon. Rhys Ifans wouldn't marry her (the only way she's allowed on board), so she decided to marry Simon instead, but having fulfilled her wedding night obligations she would now would be moving in with Ifans' character next door. Simon is naturally distressed, especially when Elenore thoughtfully points out he'll be able to hear them having sex. Elenore, having been in two scenes (the wedding, the post-wedding night) is despatched, after sleeping with Ifans' character three times. Her behaviour is completely fucking insane, and I'm not leaving out some aspect of the situation which renders it in any way either believable or tolerable, it is what it is. Women are so up for it with Ifans' character, they'll marry and shag anyone.

So then we have the others. Carl's mother, bafflingly played by Emma Thompson, who is a slut and has slept with most of the characters in the past and notches up another one in her brief appearance. The female fans who turn up on the boat, strip off and have an orgy with one of the DJs. The two lesbians, who are basically nothing but the butt of lecherous jokes.

Every woman in the film is driven by one factor - sex, and the wilful determination to shag anyone who stands still long enough. None of them have any characterisation or depth. They just fuck. I know it's a comedy, and I know sex is funny, but there are a hundred ways of doing it that don't hold all women of all ages in utter contempt. But no one comes out of this well - the men are horrible, the women are whores and by the end of it you want them all to drown. I felt grubby just watching it. The Carry Ons were forty years ago, and even then they weren't exactly sophisticated humour. Grow the fuck up.