Remember The Full Monty? A group of men down on their luck become male strippers in an outlandish act of feel-good empowerment. Twenty years later a new British comedy offers an arguably even stranger scenario: middle-aged men as synchronised swimmers.

Eric Scott (Rob Brydon) is in the grip of mid-life crisis – bored out of his mind and clockwatching in his accountancy job, intimidated by his wife Heather’s (Jane Horrocks) new career as a councillor and afraid that she’s having an affair, and unable to engage with his son.

His only solace is at the swimming pool, where he swims laps alone each day, free of his cares. And it’s at the bottom of the pool, literally, that he first spies his salvation.

Here, holding their breaths and bunched together underwater is a group of men, who then surface to orchestrate a stuttering ballet of bloated whales.

This motley group comprises anxious Colin (Daniel Mays), argumentative Kurt (Adeel Akhtar), teenage petty crook Tom (Thomas Turgoose), grieving widower Ted (Jim Carter), and their de facto leader Luke (Rupert Graves), who’s lonely and lovesick for the much younger swim instructor Susan (Charlotte Riley).

With seemingly nothing in common, they’re bonded by a love of swimming and a rare desire amongst men to synchronise. Each has his own problems. As Ted declares, “We’ve all had our moments at the bottom of the pool.”

The perennial loner Eric is wary of joining them, but his skill with numbers helps the group solve a routine and, buoyed by their enthusiasm, he’s in. With a cute nod to Fight Club, their rule book contains the dictum: “No-one talks about swim club.” And no-one would, at first, because the poor chaps aren’t very good.

But when they hear of an “unofficial” world championship for male synchronised swimmers In Milan, their gentle hobby suddenly finds a greater purpose. Aided by Susan, they get to work on their routines.

At close quarters, the comparison with The Full Monty becomes thinner. That film had a very political context of unemployment, the closure of steel mills in the north, and a number of other issues which underpinned the comedy with genuine pathos and grit. It also starred Robert Carlyle, whose innate integrity gives even the most outrageous comic scenario some heft.

Here the emphasis is on whimsy, with even the effect of Ted’s grief and Tom’s criminality watered down. But within that context, it is really quite winning.

One would never accuse Rob Brydon of being a shrinking violet. Here though, the comic reins in his desperate need to be liked and laughed at, to the extent that, at first, the bitter Eric is not very likeable at all, particularly because of his insufferable lack of generosity towards his wife. But as the swim club introduces him to the concept of teamwork, and he finally starts to enjoy creativity in his life, Eric starts to win us over – with Brydon skilfully softening the edges and introducing some laughs.

The Welshman, best known for his virtuosity with accents, now exercises his physical comedy, for example in a lovely scene in a lift, where Eric silently mimics and synchs with the other passengers, just as he would in the pool.

The ensemble of familiar (if not famous) British faces adds character and humour to the business, particularly Carter and Turgoose at the opposite age ranges of the pack.

Like the Monty cast, these actors gamely let it all hang out, to the extent that when their routines actually start to work (ironically, the best is titled ‘wilting flowers’) it’s a joy.