Rachel McAdams plays a sacked TV producer who gets a job revitalising a faltering local news programme. She decides to pep up the show by employing legendary TV anchor Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford)... but he refuses to cover morning show staples like celebrity gossip, weather, fashion and crafts... let alone work with new co-host Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton), a former beauty queen. The director behind Notting Hill and writer of The Devil Wears Prada serve up an enjoyable confection with the occasional acidic pop at mindless daytime television.
Daybreak is the sort of breakfast TV programme watched by "people who have lost the remote or are waiting for the nurse to turn them over."
Now, you might think that's being a bit harsh on Adrian Chiles but these are the words of Harrison Ford...and he's not referring to the doomed British comfy-sofa /fluffy-news programme but a fictitious New York equivalent.
The sun looks like its setting over this particular Daybreak - ratings are through the floor, star presenters struggle with English and their rivals constantly beat them to the big stories.
Meanwhile, recently fired studio producer Becky (McAdams) persuades network head honcho Jeff Goldblum to take her on...even if her scatty demeanour suggests giving her the show would be akin to handing Louie Spence the nuclear codes.
However, work-wise she's got a mind like a steel trap, her first act to sack slimy anchorman Paul McVee (Ty Burrell), a creep with a sideline in foot fetishism.
More controversially, she decides to replace him with Mike Pomeroy (Ford), a grizzled news veteran who's been put out to pasture and regards breakfast TV with its diet of showbiz chaff, fashion makeovers and trivialising of hard news as the broadcasting antichrist.
Without blazing any trails (this ain't Network) director Roger Michell's assured comedy fires off enough sharp quips, knowing asides and feelgood performances to provide a pleasant evening's entertainment.
The rom-com strand - featuring Becky and news hunk Patrick Wilson - never dominates and instead The Devil Wears Prada writer Aline Brosh McKenn is given full rein to gently lampoon the idiocies of sofa TV and the pomposity of rolling news.
Ford finally acts his age and demonstrates a comedy timing and genuine way with a witty line that he hasn't really wheeled out since Working Girl more than 20 years ago.
It's worth getting up early for...which is more than you can say for most breakfast TV.