Don’t Panic – Hitchhiker’s Guide is Fun

Earth has just been destroyed to make way for an interstellar bypass. I’m dead. You’re dead. Every living thing on the planet is now, quite unfortunately, dead. Well, everything except the dolphins. They were smart enough to leave. But other than that, it’s all gone, never to be seen in the universe again.

Don’t panic.

Thus begins the adventures of wayward, ordinary and quite British everyman Arthur Dent in Douglas Adams’ classic cult sci-fi comedic adventure The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. First brought to the small screen in 1981 by the BBC, the story of Dent, best friend (and a literal alien) Ford Prefect, Zaphod Beeblebrox, his girlfriend (and Dent’s former love interest – if only for a second or two) Trillian and planet designer Slartibartfast has won acclaim (and wildly divergent fans such as Stephen Hawking, George Lucas, Bill Clinton and Paul McCartney) around the world in whatever medium it’s found itself presented in. Now comes English video director Garth Jennings theatrical take on Douglas’ surreal outer space head-trip and I’m happy to say, for fans at least, this is one comedic deadpan adventure worth signing up for.

But, and this is a big but, you do have to be a fan; if not of the book, the BBC miniseries or the popular ‘70’s radio show, than at least a fan of British humor. This is a very mannered and dry comedy, full of blisteringly biting satire and whimsically silly sight gags that would make the Monty Python boys standup and cheer. You either get into it right away or you don’t, and if you’re one of the latter be prepared for a long, long 120 minutes. Personally, I tend to eat this stuff up with a spoon. Through my parent’s effervescent zeal and our trusty Spokane PBS station, I was raised on Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Dr. Who, Rumple of the Bailey and, but of course, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, so watching this was almost like going home for a particularly rambunctious and entertaining family reunion.

In all fairness, Jennings’ take on all of this isn’t quite up to the same level as the BBC miniseries. It’s almost too reverential at times, many scenes and sequences duplicated almost exactly as they were in the ’81 classic (I just loved hearing Bernie Leadon’s famous theme again, though, as the guide opened for the first time). Also, Mos Def (The Italian Job), a talented actor whose quixotic smirks are always good for a laugh or two, isn’t allowed to make much of an impression as the schizophrenic towel-toting Prefect, and the porcelain-pretty Zooey Deschanel (Elf) is a bland blank slate as wayward travel-loving Earth girl Trillian. I’m also not exactly sure I liked Douglas’ newest character (created specifically by the author for the feature), nasally pugnacious religious cult leader Humma Kavula (John Malkovich, The Dancer Upstairs). Granted, Malkovich does play him with such unmitigated self-serious glee his few short scenes aren’t exactly a chore.

But as far as problems go, that’s about it. For most of my two hours sitting in the theater I couldn’t stop chuckling. From Alan Rickman’s (Love Actually) hilarious deadpanning as the preternaturally depressed robot Marvin to Helen Mirren’s (Raising Helen) splendid turn as a supercomputer who believes the answer to life, the universe and everything is 42 to Stephen Fry’s (Gosford Park) jovial and acerbically dry narration, I just loved it all. In fact, Martin Freeman (BBC’s The Office) is so good as Dent I forgot all about Simon Jones, the actor whom brilliantly brought the ornery human to life in ’81, completely. Just the sight of him tramping around the galaxy in his bathrobe with a towel wrapped around his neck is enough for fits and giggles. Better, Freeman brings just enough complexity to his performance I actually found myself deeply caring for Dent, even shedding a tear for him a time or two along the way.

Rockwell, in all his narcissistic maniacal glory, is the real star, however, his take on Beeblebrox a showstopper. Whether, quite literally, losing his head over a question or getting all three of his arms in on the action of driving a stolen interstellar spaceship (equipped with an improbability drive, of course), Rockwell is a wonder. But he never goes over the top, somehow managing to restrain himself just enough to make the Universe’s President animated but never to the point of being obnoxious. He’s wonderful, and with him and Freeman connecting so perfectly with Douglas and Karey Kirkpatrick’s (Chicken Run) witty screenplay Hitchhiker’s Guide can’t help but click on all cylinders.

I could keep going, but it’s better to just stop here. For those in the know, be ready to be entertained and amused beyond your wildest expectations. For everyone else, you probably should just stay home and listen to some more Vogon poetry. Other than that, all I really have to say is, so long, and thanks for all the fish.

Film Rating: êêê1/2  (out of 4)