The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

No movie will ever be as good as the book. Some can very nearly approach the pure goodness of the literary form (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Peter Pan) but most pale in comparison (Jurassic Park, Around the World in 80 Days).

Hitchhiker’s Guide pales in comparison but ends up being a pretty decent flick in its own right. After all, how many stories made into movies have gone through so many media interpretations as this one? I suppose the filmmakers ought to be given a pass and allowed to present this as a work in its own right, an interpretation for a new media and age rather than a strict adaptation.

There were bits that annoyed me mightily, even giving the lads the benefit of the doubt: the sidetracks caused by the romance angle, Zaphod’s head – although admittedly this was explained rather creatively, the apparent channeling of Kevin Branagh’s performance in the afore-mentioned Harry Potter being passed off as Zaphod’s personality, Marvin’s voice, the utterly superflous Vice-President of the Galaxy, etc.

But I liked it. And I did carry a towel. And I did have three pints of what passes for bitter in this blighted land.

And yes, the peanuts do help.

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