Chances are you’ve laughed at Richard Curtis more than a few times. Don’t worry about his feelings, though; he’s used to it.

Born in New Zealand 53 years ago this month, Curtis started in British comedy three decades ago with scripts for Not the Nine O’Clock News. This led to him writing specifically for series star Rowan Atkinson, including many episodes of Blackadder and Mr. Bean, and then for the cult feature The Tall Guy, which paired Atkinson with Jeff Goldblum. Even better known are his breezy screenplays for Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral, and the two Bridget Jones movies. The veteran Londoner finally got his chance, in 2003’s Love Actually, to boss about the actors using his words.

His directorial follow-up, Pirate Radio, which opens here on Friday (November 13), stars Philip Seymour Hoffman as a grungy Yank literally adrift off the coast of 1966 England, broadcasting rock ’n’ roll to beat-starved Britons. Back when the BBC still majored in classical-concert broadcasts, rough-edged musical pirates anchored in international waters blasted the sceptred isle with noisy singles and crass adverts shunned by Her Majesty’s government.

Curtis was captivated by that brief period, which foreshadowed modern Top 40 radio, and the project—called The Boat That Rocked in England—came about partially because his family was sick of his success in romantic comedy.

“My children thought I’d done enough of all that,” says the easygoing filmmaker during a genial call from New York City. “I’m also writing an episode of the Doctor Who series, especially for them. All part of a plan to keep changing things, you could say.”

His own parents were Australian, and kiwi land was just stop one in a long list of temporary homes, thanks to his father’s job with the Unilever corporation.

Eventually, young Curtis washed up in the U.K., studying at Oxford and later writing for television, where he displayed a particular knack for writing parodies of pop songs.

“One of my tunes climbed to Number 27 on the charts, I believe. It was one of the very few times where my skills aligned with popular culture.”

Well, that’s not strictly true. Aside from scribbling for Atkinson, whom he met in college, Curtis also created the hit Vicar of Dibley series for Dawn French, founded the sporadic charity shows known as Comic Relief, and joined Bob Geldof to organize the Live 8 concerts—efforts that earned him an MBE from the Queen. Interest in Africa also led him to cowrite and help produce The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency for HBO.

“It’s funny how you do different things at different times in your life. For all that time on television, I was never allowed to do anything that remotely related to the human heart. Then you write a few romantic comedies,” he adds modestly, “and suddenly realize you know the formula. That becomes dangerous.”

Curtis explains that Pirate Radio was an attempt to get clear of the mushy stuff and to celebrate a key period of his childhood. The movie also stars Curtis regular Bill Nighy as the rockers’ upper-class leader and Kenneth Branagh as a government villain who yearns to scuttle the good guys.

“What people have to remember about the ’60s in England is that they were basically still the ’50s. In 1966, people still wore jackets and ties, and it wasn’t long since rationing. That’s why the pirates were so exciting—it was really the first injection of the drug of freedom.”

Radio can surely be forgiven for throwing well-chosen tracks by Cat Stevens and others on the soundtrack, even if they actually hail from later periods. But it does stand out when a jock casually spins Jimi Hendrix a half-year before the future guitar god released his first album.

“That’s disgraceful,” Curtis answers in his best Oxford tones. “Thank you for pointing out my temporal incompetence!”

Clearly, Curtis is one comedy writer who enjoys a good giggle at his own expense.