Thiel-a-Vision Review: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The problem with viewing (and reviewing) the film adaptation of the sci-fi comedy classic The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is one of familiarity. After countless exposures to it via the radio series, the books, the TV show, the record albums and the computer game, the comedy no longer seems as fresh and I can still hear the original radio/TV cast reciting the dialogue. It took a second viewing to put the movie and its differences in perspective, and I found myself enjoying the return trip.

The Hitchhiker's flick had been stuck in Development Hell for at least a decade, and I strongly suspect that the only reason it was ever completed was that author Douglas Adams--a chronic procrastinator--died in 2001. (I believe that this also accounts for the recent production of BBC radio series based on the final three books in the series.)

While some die-hard Adams fans would have one believe that the film is some sort of affront to his work, I found it be an affectionate tribute. It was generally faithful to its source, to the point that I knew exactly what the characters would say before they said it. I found myself grateful for the odd bit of unfamiliar dialogue. A couple of my favorite exchanges were missing: Ford's attempts to talk a construction foreman to take Arthur's place in front of the bulldozers which intend to demolish his house, and to convince a Vogon guard to take up a different vocation. On the other hand, I'll admit that both of these are more like sketch-comedy bits than they are believable dialogue.

The flick does make some concessions to Hollywood, notably the additions of a love story between Arthur and Trillian and an uncharacteristically happy ending which undercuts the melancholic futility of the original. The filmmakers have suggested that these elements came from Adams' own involvement in the early script drafts, and there's no question that each previous incarnation of Hitchhiker's has differed in details and even major plot elements.

While my first viewing of the film left me vaguely unamused by what I felt to be flat delivery on the part of some of the actors, particularly Mos Def as Ford Prefect, it played better the second time 'round. I still miss the exasperation of earthman Arthur Dent as played by Martin Freeman, but he is at least a better-rounded character here than in previous adaptations. 

There are some strong performances throughout. Sam Rockwell is a hoot as galactic president Zaphod Beeblebrox, playing him as the super-ego of George W. Bush, and while Zaphod's infamous second head is not especially well realized, it didn't significantly detract from the character. Other bright spots included Steven Fry's pitch-perfect recitation as The Book, Alan Rickman as Marvin the paranoid android, and Bill Nighy as planetary designer Slartibartfast. Nighy has been mooted for the role of Doctor Who over the years, and I can now see why.

The script takes a couple of odd side trips, and I'm not certain that either was necessary. First is a visit to the planet Viltvodle VI to meet a religious leader played by John Malkovich. His character--though created by Adams--seems rather sinister for the otherwise lighthearted proceedings. Furthermore, while it seems as if he's being built up to be the villain of the piece, he winds up doing little more than writing out Zaphod's extra head and introducing a literal plot device necessary for the film's climax.

Second is the trip to the Vogon homeworld Vogsphere, which at least ties into the bureaucratic aliens' increased presence in this version of the story. The design work during this sequence is wonderfully droll, and there is one terrific new line: "I'm British, I know how to queue!"

Another design highlight is the Magrathean "factory floor" sequence, a glorious, awe-inspiring view of planets under construction. One area in which the film Hitchhiker's exceeds all previous incarnations is in its sense of wonder.

There's also plenty of eye-candy for Adams fans. The movie landscape is peppered with visual references to his work, not the least of which is the silky-coated, broken-backed elk which serves as the Vogon captain's chair. 

If any proof be needed that the movie adaptation is at least a good-faith attempt, one need look no further than the dolphin song-and-dance number that opens the film: an insanely catchy ditty entitled, "So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish." It's a marvellously daft and charming sequence. 

In the end, I wonder if Hitchhiker's doesn't simply defy big-screen adaptation. A book or radio series can afford to ramble, a movie not so much. And the humor, while clever, is very dry. At times, I felt as if someone was reciting a joke rather than telling one. Still, there are plenty of joys to be found here, if you can get the radio show/TV show/book out of your head.

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