Evenin', all!

ALAN PARTRIDGE: ALPHA PAPA (B+) - I toyed with giving this a higher grade, but as personally satisfying as this Steve Coogan farce is, I realize that it's not a great comedy. If this low-key movie doesn't hit a nerve, you might not make it past the first reel.

Coogan is one of the funniest men on the planet, and he's been doing his buffoonish TV/radio character for a long time, mainly on British television. I've watched maybe one season of the turn-of -the-millennium hit "I'm Alan Partridge," so I'm certainly not a superfan. I'm more attuned to Coogan's film output, including "The Trip," "Tristram Shandy," "24-Hour Party People," "The Look of Love" and "Philomena." He is the master of understatement, which will lead many to dismiss this as a harmless trifle, not realizing that it is a quietly hilarious example of classic British humor.

From the material and the delivery, I was able to draw a line backward from Simon Pegg & Edgar Wright ("Shaun of the Dead"), Ricky Gervais (the original "Office"), Jennifer Saunders ("Absolutely Fabulous" with Joanna Lumley) and back all the way to Benny Hill. That's a separate, parallel track from the one that runs from the more manic Goonies, through Monty Python and the Young Ones, etal. And that's certainly a whole different beast than the state of American movie comedy of the trash-talking Apatow school.

Here, Alan Partridge is doing a morning show with a wacky sidekick, and it comes off as corny and anachronistic as that format we're familiar with. (His middle-of-the-road caller-baiting banter involves topics such as "Have you ever met a genuinely clever bus driver?" coming out of ancient songs by the likes of "soft-rock cocaine enthusiasts Fleetwood Mac." For those who grew up in Chicago, it brings to mind WGN's Wally Phillips, the hero to housewives of the '60s and '70s.) The plot is simple: The radio station is being bought by some nasty new owners and Alan fears for his job. In a totally selfish move, he serves up his friend Pat, an even hokier late-night host who flips out upon being fired and takes his colleagues at the station hostage. The police conscript Alan to infiltrate the scene and establish a communications link with Pat.

What ensues involves more hijinks than danger.  Alan gets by with an anachronistic mop of hair and a slightly above average wit. That's the appeal here. Alan Partridge is not a superstar, he's not hilarious, he's not even a raging egomaniac. He's a mildly successful, humorous chap who fancies himself a bit of a player. As a result, he's rarely laugh-out-loud funny; he gets by on some wordplay, a good deal of awkward interaction with others and impeccable back-of-the-beat timing.

It's the difference between the broader slapstick that Benny Hill traded in vs. Hill's more quietly cerebral stuff -- him misinterpreting someone's use of the words "warlocks" or "Balkans" as mild oaths, or his adding a simple comma to a sentence that allows a lovely airhead to get a laugh with the line, "What's this thing called, love?" Here, I could try to repeat some of the best lines from the film, but they'll thud on the printed page (or screen).  Here's one from his radio banter: "Never, ever criticize Muslims. Christians only. (long beat) And sometimes Jews."

Eh, you have to be there. You have to sit and appreciate the sly long-game being played by Coogan and crew. I did, and I had a larf.