The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy

Synopsis: Earthman Arthur Dent (Martin Freeman) is rescued by his alien friend Ford Prefect (Mos Def) from the destruction of the world. Together with Tricia (Zooey Deschanel) - the second remaining human - they join the quest of Zaphod, the runaway President of the Galaxy (Sam Rockwell), for the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything.

THHGTTG started life as Douglas Adams’ 1970s radio play, became the world’s first and only five-book ‘trilogy’, was fairly faithfully converted into a wonderful 1980s BBC television series (now on DVD), and has now made its appearance in cinematic form at last. Along the way, it swept millions of fans along for the ride, many of whom now hold an annual ‘towel’ day and will no doubt be going to the film in their bathrobes to see Earth demolished for a hyperspace expressway one more time.

For those who are joining the fun for the first time, the film adaptation will probably entertain in a relatively forgettable way. Three stars for you. For unforgiving fans who won’t take kindly to quite a lot of good bits being chopped out, and bad bits being substituted, perhaps two stars would be the most to expect.

There is much hype about the film trying to be true to the late Adams’ unique vision of an infinitely improbable universe. To an extent, the film does get it right. The main characters are surprisingly well cast. Arthur is suitably bemused, Ford is dryly sarcastc, one of Zaphod’s heads is superbly egomaniacal while the other one should have stayed asleep, and Tricia provides a more reflective view on the oddities unfolding around her. The occasional narration by the Guide itself, an electronic book, is voiced well by Stephen Fry and accompanied by stylish animated sequences.

Visually, the film is striking sci-fi whimsy. The earth-demolishing Vogon bureaucrats are fantastic Jim Henson creations, like creatures from the Dark Crystal in suits. The dour paranoid android, Marvin (voiced by Alan Rickman) may have lost most of his good lines from the book, but has quite a good visual makeover. Similarly, the Heart of Gold spaceship on which they all travel is an imaginative piece of work – resembling a modernist teapot, it transforms into multiple objects while careering across the galaxy on its improbability drive. The final visual extravaganza sees Arthur touring the factory floor where planets are made.

Three stars, so far.

But now for the down side, particularly for fans. Adams drafted the screenplay before he died, but either through poor judgment or subsequent editing, the dialogue is often inexplicably impoverished in comparison to the rich source material. There is no clear rationale for cutting chunks out or rewriting bits, considering that the radio plays and TV series covered the same material in about two hours and were very, very funny. These chunks have been replaced with bizarre new plot elements that go nowhere and extended special effects scenes. Sadly, there is a dearth of iconic information such as what do towels have to with anything? And what was Ford doing on Earth in the first place?

Adams wasn’t great on plot, but had a finely honed gift for comic language and timing. The film mucks it about for no good reason. Compare these pieces dialogue where Arthur complains to the Council about hiding the plans to demolish his house:

The Radio Play:
"I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find them."
"That's the Display Department."
"With a torch."
"The lights had probably gone."
"So had the stairs."
"But you found the plans, didn't you?"
"Oh yes, they were 'on display' in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying 'Beware of the leopard.'"

The Film:
"I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find them."
"But you found the plans, didn't you?"

Generally, the dialogue is dumbed down and glossed over, presumably to keep our American friends happy. There is no longer any reference to Eccentrica Gallumbits the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon 6, how the Babel fish disproves the existence of God, or the Universe’s worst poet whose lower intestine leapt up through his throat and throttled his brain. Some of the Guide’s best satirical insights on the absurd nature of the world are missing. What’s left will leave many people going ‘huh?’ For example, Marvin talks about computerized doors having ‘genuine people personalities’ which made sense in the book (where doors spoke to you) but makes no sense in the film (where doors only sigh). Or jokes from the book are imported across, but either without the lead-in, or the punchline.

But perhaps worst of all is the fact that most of this cruelty has been inflicted on the story in order to highlight the relationship between Arthur and Tricia in a manner that’s about as subtle as a pan-galactic gargle-blaster. For those not in the know, drinking a PGGB is like having your brain smashed out with a slice of lemon, wrapped around a large gold brick.

 

 

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