You’ve got to love Richard Curtis, actually.

He’s a one-man Ealing Studios, turning out a reliably funny, upbeat, and above all commercial comedy every few years. It’s fashionable to knock his optimistic films but we could all do with a bit of feelgood factor right now.

The Boat That Rocked, which has its premiere at the Odeon Leicester Square tonight, is Curtis’s love-letter to the pirate radio stations
he adored in his youth. It casts the cream of British comedy acting talent as the motley crew of Radio Rock, a shipful of reprobates broadcasting the devil’s music to dolly birds and schoolboys huddled around transistors, and flipping two fingers at the disapproving British authorities. Like all love letters, it’s a bit gushy and over the top in places, but it also lifts the heart.

Expelled from school for smoking, Carl (Tom Sturridge) is dispatched by his mother to the care of his godfather Quentin (Bill Nighy), Radio Rock’s owner and skipper, in the hope he’ll gain a moral compass. “Spectacular mistake!”, as the spectacularly louche Quentin says.

The plot, such as it is, concerns Carl’s coming of age by losing his virginity and discovering his father’s identity, and the attempts
of Kenneth Branagh’s uptight minister Sir Alistair Dormandy to sink the pirate stations.

Really, though, this is an affectionate, broad-brush evocation of a bygone era, furnished with a collection of character studies and a cracking Sixties soundtrack.

There’s bear-like Philip Seymour Hoffman and cocksure Rhys Ifans vying to see who can be top dog DJ.

There’s snarky Nick Frost as cool dude Dr Dave, and Rhys Darby, from comedy show Flight Of The Conchords, as an irritating funster clearly modelled on Kenny Everett.

In truth, there are rather too many characters, including one called Thick Kevin whose comedy value lies in the fact that he’s, um, thick. Similarly, Dormandy’s sidekick, played by Jack Davenport, is called Twatt. Ho ho. The humour, like the production design, is laid on thick.

The girls, shipped out once a week to worship the DJs, are dressed like Biba models, and the men resemble King’s Road fashion plates. The one element of the script that rings really true of the era is its casual sexism. Otherwise The Boat That Rocked is a bright, breezy, if slightly aimless romp. It’s packed with star turns but the real star is the music, and Curtis rightly celebrates the pirates’ pivotal role in bringing Hendrix, the Yardbirds, Cream and Leonard Cohen to our ears. Rock on.

The Boat That Rocked is released on 3 April, with special previews from 1 April.