Friday, March 18, 2005

The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy


Okay, so the other day I go for the movie Constantine and they show the trailer of the Hitch Hiker's Guide. First of all, Constantine was bad enough that they couldn't get a bottle of hair-colour to change Keanu Reeve's hair to Blonde - can't they stick to the originals? And even more so, they actually show him giving up smoking - hahahaha. Yeah right. John Constantine, the lecherous, selfish bastard that he is would never, ever do something like that in the books. But hey, this is Hollywood. Who cares? Anyway, I digress. Now that am done ranting about Constantine, off to the Hitch Hiker's. Well, as someone who's been a fan of Douglas Adams since my childhood, this movie is wrong on so many levels that it pained me to even watch the trailer. To begin with, the image of a Black Hip-hop star as Ford Prefect was terrible. Ford Prefect is not a Black guy. And neither does he talk like he's Snoop Dogg fresh out of the hood. Screw you and your political correctness, Hollywood. And second of all, Zaphod Beeblebrox, the erstwhile president of the Galactic Government and Worst Dressed Sentient Being in the Known Universe is not an American. And neither does he talk in a bloody American accent. No matter how much you wish it were so. The only thing that they got half-right was Arthur - thank God atleast he's British (wow, I never thought I'd hear myself say that, ever). And oh yeah, Trillian. My dear, darling physicist Trillian. She looked like an Irish housewife, rather than an astrophysicist who'd flown away with the double headed alien Zaphod on a party night. And then comes my favourite, the eternally depressed darling Marvin. That "thing" they showed wasn't Marvin. It was a piece of crap that hardly resembled the charming piece of junk that Marvin is supposed to be. I do not even want to know how Wonko The Sane, Fenny or Random Frequent Flyer Dent are gonna look like. Even the thought of it grates on my nerves. Okay, all these weren't half as bad as the the humour - it was hardly the skillful, sardonic Woodehouse-inspired tone that Douglas Adams was so famous for. It was slapstick American humour. Almost as if Laurel Hardy were acting in them. Bah. With a Texan accent, no less. The terrible accents and the cheesy slapstick humour, quite honestly, is a transgression against Mr. Adams. If you were ever a fan of Douglas Adams, I'd very, very strongly recommend that you do not watch this movie. Trust me, you'll walk away disappointed. Or if you're anything like me, a murderous rage. Personally, LoTR was bad enough - Peter Jackson did a bad job of Tolkien's books. There is no way I'm going to step into that theatre and spoil my childhood memories. Yet again. Boo to Hollywood. Off I'm, to my own personal Milliways. And fix myself a nice old Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster to get over this delightfully depressed, paranoid, nagging life of mine.