Fisherman's Friends: Quite a catch!

Fisherman's Friends (2019) • View trailer

Four stars. Rated PG-13, and much too harshly, for fleeting profanity

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.16.20 

You can’t get much more charming than this one.

 

Hoping to impress his rugged hosts, Danny (Daniel Mays) nervously rises at the crack
of dawn, in order to join a gaggle of men during a typical morning at sea.

Director Chris Foggin’s gently amiable comedy, available via Amazon Prime and other streaming services, gets additional sizzle from its factual origins. Scripters Piers Ashworth, Meg Leonard and Nick Moorcroft based their story — while adding a sweet romantic subplot — on the “discovery” of the actual Fisherman’s Friends, a group of Cornish fishermen who, for the past quarter-century, have met on the Platt (harbor) in their native Port Isaac, raising money for charity by singing traditional sea shanties.

 

They signed a major record deal in 2010; their debut album went gold, as they became the first traditional folk act to land a Top 10 album in the UK.

 

You can’t ask for a better premise on which to hang a typically droll touch of British whimsy.

 

A quartet of cynical, fast-living, London-based music executives, led by patronizing boss Troy (Noel Clarke), descend on Port Isaac for a “stag weekend” prior to one of their own getting married. They couldn’t be more insufferably arrogant, prompting the locals to dismiss them as useless tossers (with several deliciously arch insults hurled in their direction).

 

The newcomers also prove helpless when it comes to simple ocean activities such as stand-up paddle boarding, further irritating the townsfolk by necessitating a rescue at sea.

 

Having quickly lost interest in these “boring” surroundings, Troy and his mates perk up when they happen upon the local fishermen’s weekly pier-side concert (“the rock ’n’ roll of 1752”). But the performance quality cannot be denied; Troy encourages colleague Danny (Daniel Mays) to chat the group up, in the hopes of signing them to a contract.

 

This proves useless, of course; the cheerfully unruly, mildly grumpy men, led by nominal spokesman Jim (James Purefoy), can’t begin to take this big-city clown seriously. Indeed, they laugh him out of the pub (which actually happened to London record executive Ian Brown, the real-life Friends’ manager, on whom Danny is loosely based).

 

Worse yet, Danny doesn’t realize that he’s been pranked; Troy has no intention of “wasting time” with the fishermen, and in fact hastily departs with his two other mates, deliberately leaving Danny behind (which makes Troy a wanker, rather than a tosser).

 

Danny, not yet aware of his plight, carries on trying to woo the rugged Post Isaac singers.

 

The well-cast Mays is perfect in this role; everything about Danny — his manner, his clothing, the way he carries himself — screams insincere opportunist, and his mousy physique sets him further apart from the hardy locals. Jim and his mates can smell the smarm (and so can we).

 

But Danny perseveres, and his earnest, puppy-dog gaze is as persuasive as his silver-tongued promises. Doing his best to show respect — by joining some of the men on a day of ocean work — also earns grudging admiration. Jim and the others finally agree to record an album’s worth of songs.

 

During this process — and we knew it was coming — Danny quickly succumbs to the allure of these centuries-old shanties, and soon believes in his mission to promote this unlikely “boy band.” Which does not sit well with Troy, back in London.

 

Danny’s presence and behavior throughout have alternately amused and exasperated Jim’s adult daughter, Alwyn (Tuppence Middleton), a single mother with an adorable young daughter (Meadow Nobrega, as Tamsyn). She thaws as time passes, and Jim uneasily senses where that is heading. Middleton is a sparkling presence, and her blossoming oil-and-vinegar relationship with Danny is quite sweet.

 

Purefoy is terrific as the shrewdly observant Jim, whose imposing presence somehow makes him seem larger than he already is. Purefoy deftly maneuvers his character’s many roles: as watchful guardian of the Friends, doting parent to Alwyn, and — eventually — wary friend to Danny.

 

Additional dramatic tension is supplied by Rowan (Sam Swainsbury), the youngest member of the Friends, and owner of the town’s sole — and much beloved — pub, the Golden Lion. Unfortunately, business can’t match rising expenses; as a newly minted father, responsible for wife (Mae Voogd) and child, he fears losing the pub to creditors.

 

Each of the actors playing the various Friends establishes a strong presence. Stand-outs include David Hayman, as Jim’s father Jago, a crusty coot with a tart tongue and unerring sense of comic timing; and Dave Johns as the ancient Leadville, a font of local wisdom. The venerable Maggie Steed is similarly strong as Maggie, the local matriarch, who tends bar at the Golden Lion.

 

All of the actual Fisherman’s Friends also pop up in the background, as the film proceeds (primarily as members of the opposing team, during a pub quiz).

 

The numerous songs are an equally important character; we’re treated to lengthy renditions of classics such as “Keep Hauling,” “Blow the Man Down,” “Nelson’s Blood,” “Widow Woman” and many, many more. The film almost becomes a musical, but not quite; the performances are cleverly integrated into the developing narrative.

 

Cinematographer Simon Tindall emphasizes this seaside community’s colorful, old-world charm, and fans of British TV will experience a burst of déjà vu; Port Isaac is the real-world setting of the fictitious Portwenn, home of Doc Martin.

 

This film is certain to further goose sales of the actual Friends’ already popular albums, and there’s talk of a sequel, to be set during the group’s first tour of South Australia.

It can’t come quickly enough.