Alan Partridge: Mid-Morning Madness in Full Bloom

Alright, so I finally got around to rewatching *Alan Partridge*, the 2013 film where Steve Coogan jumps into the tacky loafers of one of Britain’s most legendary cringe machines. And yepp, he still makes me want to crawl under the sofa — in the best way possible.

The plot? Alan, the self-absorbed radio host we all kinda love-hate, ends up in a hostage situation at his station. Think Die Hard but with more cheap cardigans and awkward small talk. Coogan is, surprise surprise, brilliant. He *owns* Alan. Has done for years. But here, surrounded by a strong cast – Colm Meaney especially, doing this sorta tragic-comic thing I didn’t expect – the character actually feels… bigger. Sadder. More human. Sort of.

Now, the director, Declan Lowney – he’s done a load of classic Brit telly like *Father Ted* – keeps it tight and doesn’t try to over-fancy the thing. Thank god. Anything slicker would kill the Partridge soul. The film feels like a 90-minute long episode, which might not work for everyone, but for us who’ve watched the series since the late 90s on obscure Swedish cable channels in our teenage rooms? Pure gold.

Speaking of that – I remember watching “Knowing Me Knowing You” dubbed into the weirdest Swedish subtitles when I was like 17. Sat in my basement in Södertälje, eating Skogaholmslimpa straight from the bag. Didn’t get half the jokes. But I laughed. Mostly at Alan’s shirts. Some things never change.

Look, *Alan Partridge* won’t convert the unconverted. It’s niche. It’s weird. But if you’ve ever felt secondhand embarrassment so strong you had to press pause – this is your kind of chaos.

Is it perfect? Nää. Not really. But it’s very… Alan. And sometimes, that’s enough.

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