Give My Regards to Broad Street

Pop star Paul zooms around in his own Herbie car, records at the Beeb, attends board meetings, smiles kindly at aged autograph hunters, takes champers, and performs an awful lot of music. The documentary stuff is propped up by a plot about some missing master tapes (which has the distinction of being both uneventful and baffling), some embarrassingly old-fashioned visual set pieces, and cameo roles in which Ullman manages to be unfunny and Richardson looks understandably tired. Token attempt at street cred: if Paul doesn't get the tapes back, he'll be taken over by a sunglasses-wearing business shark.