Alan Partridge Blog: Alan Partridge Alpha Papa review




When industry insiders tell me that ‘Alpha Papa’ is probably the best action film of the last twenty years I tend to let out a loud snort. Get real, guys. It’s a cute little talkie, but have they not seen any of the Nick Love canon? (By the way, I do wipe my face after the snort. Thought that was worth clarifying.)

No, I will take the honourable route and remain tight-lipped on just how good my movie is. You don’t need to hear me say that the film pushed the boundaries of wig technology. Or that it’s budget was more than £700 million. Or that at one point on the shoot the Director of Photography had figured out the function of almost every button on his camera. Because you’re clever people, and you’ll make your own minds up.


All I would ask – the budget wasn’t £700 million by the way – all I would ask is that those who go to watch ‘Alpha Papa’ show a bit of decency towards their fellow cinema-goers. So usual kind of thing – gobs shut if you’re eating pick ‘n’ mix; tall people and big heads at the back; zero tolerance policy on coughing and tutting; full round of applause as the final credits roll. Oh and keep your feet off the seats. Would you do that at home? Have a bit of class, buddy.

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The film is quite simply a piece of art. But not clever-clever arthouse art with sad piano music and a Nordic man looking at the sea while crying. It’s the kind of art that has had loads of money thrown at it and features fist fights, heavy kissing, and guns. Look out for the state-of-the-art use of hair and make-up. Every (and I mean every) actor had foundation applied, plus lipstick for the girls.

The film is about a regular guy who realises he has a hero inside him – I don’t mean another person living in him. The regular guy and the hero are the same person. Namely me. It’s about me, Alan Partridge, being a hero. It’s inspired by true events.

Those chiselled idiots on the US action scene with their waxed torsos and wide backs might get the glory but I’m more akin to the classic British tough guys – John Thaw in ‘The Sweeney’, Lewis Collins in ‘Who Dares Wins’ – who’ll order a pint of bitter while thumping a man in the tummy and complimenting a ‘bird’ on her ’bristols’. Once saw Jimmy Nail do that actually. Apart from the thumping bit.

I did my own running and jumping at first but had to repeat it endlessly because they said I kept looking at the camera. In the end, they employed a stunt double to do those scenes which meant I could spend more time talking to the director about 'cinemography' or shouting tips at the other actors. It made for a better film. And because Eddie the stunt double looks like a chunkier, angrier version of me, I get him to stay at my house when I go on holiday to ward off would-be burglars.
 
I beefed up my body with protein shakes (like steroids but they don’t shrink your balls) and experienced what it was like to be a hostage by sitting next to a radiator with Al-Jazeera on in the background. It was pretty humbling but quite dull.