By rights, Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy should have been an unqualified failure. Originally conceived as a much more complex movie with a plot that involved a group of organized criminals called The Alarm Clock, Anchorman was radically edited before release, with entire chunks of its story ditched (these excised scenes eventually found their way on the DVD-only Wake Up, Ron Burgundy) in favour of an unconventional tale about male chauvinism in TV journalism, love, redemption and the birth of a panda in a San Diego zoo.

Couple the finished film’s decidedly loose storyline, and a group of characters which, in theory at least, are by turns sexist, small-minded and arrogant, and you have the makings of what could have been a comedy misfire. Yet in spite of all its potential pitfalls, Anchorman not only managed to be hugely entertaining, but inspiring enough to attract a devoted fan-following eager to quote its off-the-wall script, and nine years after the release of the original, the sequel Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues is scheduled for release this winter.

A confluence of great writing and inspired casting contributed to Anchorman’s success. Egocentric buffoon Ron Burgundy is undoubtedly Will Ferrell’s finest comic creation, but his performance is matched by those of his Channel Four news team: David Koechner’s hard-drinking, sexually confused sportscaster Champ Kind, Paul Rudd’s predatory yet hapless reporter Brian Fantana, and Steve Carrell’s dangerously slow-witted weatherman, Brick Tamland.

Although their traits are cartoonish, they’re deceptively well balanced. Each character has their more unpleasant flaws, from their archaic attitude to women in the workplace (Anchorman’s nominally set in 1975, though it has a casual attitude to period detail), to Ron’s preening vanity. But these flaws are matched by an almost childlike sweetness; beneath his swagger, Ron’s essentially a lonely old dolt who loves his dog and secretly wants to fall in love and settle down. Champ’s boorish machismo is but a veil for his unrequited love of Ron (“I miss your scent…”) and his inability to come to terms with his closeted sexuality. Brian thinks of himself as a ladies’ man, but his attempt to attract new journalist Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) ends in disaster, and he admits at one point that the closest he’s come to a proper relationship was a wordless encounter with a woman in a supermarket restroom.