Lost in Adaptation: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The Dom compares the 2005 sci-fi comedy film The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy with the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book series, radio show, and TV series.

Intro
The Dom: Hello, my Beautiful Watchers; and welcome back to Lost in Adaptation, the show dedicated to comparing films to the books they were based on. At some point in the 1970s, a drunken Englishman named Douglas Adams fell over in a field in Austria, clutching a copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to Europe; gazed up at the stars; and had a really good idea for a science-fiction story. Over the following decades, said drunken idea became a worldwide sensation and took the form of radio shows, books, video games, TV series, and even a big budget movie. I personally love *all* of them except the movie; so, of course, that's what we're here to talk about today -- yay.

Poll
People Asked: 144

Listened to the Radio Series: 42

Read the Book: 90

Saw the TV Show: 51

Saw the Movie: 122

The Dom: As I believe I've now made abundantly clear, the 2005 Hitchhiker's film is currently my least favorite adaptation ever! Don't get me wrong, there's definitely worse out there, adaptations that flat-out *insult* their source material or ignored it entirely; but for me, this was the perfect storm of things I didn't like. It was a combination of my personal obsession with the originals, disappointed expectations, *subjective* dislike of types of comedy, and an *overwhelming* amount of missed opportunities and misunderstood greatness. And this would usually be the point where I discuss my thoughts on the book and the film as individuals; but, as you should be aware by now, those were not the only players in this game -- so let's talk about the whole shebang!

My first encounter with the works of Douglas Adams was *waaaay* back in 1999, when I played the then-relatively new CD-ROM game Starship Titanic, which he helped write but, oddly enough, was based on a book set in his *universe*, but written by someone else -- uhhh, one of the Pythons, as it happens. My love for the radio show is hard to fully express; it's like it was custom-made to fit *my* exact preferences for entertainment -- it's science-fiction; it's intelligent; it's deep, but not preachy; it's exactly my kind of humor, being a combination of dry wit and surrealism. On top of that, I just loved the performances from all of the cast and thought the comedic *timing* was spot-on.

The books are also great, but in a different way -- obviously, the *performance* aspect of it was gone; but Adams more than made up for it with his hilarious descriptions. If I were forced to choose between them, I'd probably side with the radio show; but that *might* just be because I experienced that one first.

I personally really like the TV show, though I *will* be the first to admit that it's become dated as fuck, with things like Zaphod's latex extra head becoming a bit of an eyesore. Other than that, though, I still appreciate it as an adaptation and a stand-alone series -- it's not easy to get ahold of these days; but it's worth the attempt, I think. All in all, I would definitely consider the Hitchhiker's series a staple of my childhood *and* my adulthood *and* a huge influence on my life in general, my sense of humor in *particular*, and this show as a result.

And then...there's the film. Made in 2005, it's predominantly an American production; but they did bring along *some* Englishmen for the ride -- including executive producer Robbie Stamp, a close personal friend of Douglas Adams and the CEO of the production company he founded. Even through my rage at what a shitty adaptation this was, I still noticed some good things about this film just as a film -- which I have to admit *is* quite impressive because I really wasn't looking for them.

For example, it's one of the best movie's I've ever *seen* for being able to give you a sense of celestial scale. Scenes like the Earth being destroyed, where the camera zooms out and out and *out* all the way up from a human perspective to a planetary one, was really well done; *and* the fact that the Earth vanished with a "whoosh" instead of an *explosion* was a really nice touch because I felt like *that* was very much in keeping with the original Hitchhiker's tone -- e.g. this wasn't an act of war or malice, it was just business; a demolition, not an attack. The Earth and everyone on it ceased to exist without any real fuss; and *quite* frankly, that's *waaay* more terrifying than the idea of a colossal explosion.

One of the few jokes that actually got a laugh out of me was when they were in the airlock and they kept staring at the door behind them, but then fell through the floor. The reveal of the interdimensional planet workshop inside Magrathea was probably one of the more wonderful things I've ever seen in any movie -- again, probably because it was so unusually good at giving you a sense of the colossal *size* of everything. Unfortunately, its effect was lessened somewhat for me because it was immediately followed by a bunch of jokes *I* thought fell flat on their face: "Ohhhhh, they're hand painting the planet and filling the oceans with a hose; heh hehhhh, that would take *ages*." -- heh heh, fuck off. It was inconsistent, too -- seconds later, you see them raising a mountain; and they're not doing it with fucking *shovels*, are they?

I couldn't help but notice that a lot of the *small role* actors were really, really bad in this. I mean, you *know* my feelings towards *child* acting already, but it wasn't just *them*; the adults were really monotone, too. Keeping and updating the original theme tune was a really amazing idea; however, I was a bit perturbed by the lack of "Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong -- I mean, I remember it was in the early teaser trailers for the movie; but it was MIA by the time it actually came out.

One of the first things that people tend to talk about in regards to this film is the Vogons being brought to life just using practical effects and avoiding the tired, overused computer-generated imagery that was -- and still is -- *everywhere* in films -- and, well, *yeah*, the Vogons were kind of awesome; but what everyone seems to miss is, apparently, making them so sapped up *all* of the creativity available because almost *zero* fucking effort was put into a lot of the other aliens. Whenever they needed to film a large crowd shot, everyone just looks like a bloody *human* -- well, except for those *contact lenses*; gosh, don't get *too* out there, or you'll give the original series *Star Trek* a run for its money. The only alien that we know for sure must have looked exactly like a human is Ford Prefect because he blended in on the Earth for so long; but I would have thought it was obvious that that was because he came from a race of people who had the ability to alter their own bodies at will, as demonstrated by Zaphod growing an extra arm and head. Even the TV show that had the budget and technology of a community *theatre* remembered to make the *aliens* look like bloody *aliens*!

It was a long time before I forgave Martin Freeman for this movie; ummm, it took most of Sherlock and his stunning performance in Desolation of Smaug to finally redeem him in my eyes. Yasiin Bey's performance as Ford seems a little...off to me -- I mean, I've *seen* him in enough other things to know that, for a former hip-hop singer, he's not *terrible* as an actor; but he just seems really disconnected throughout a lot of this film. I don't know if this was a failed attempt to recreate Ford's original radio show disinterest in things -- I mean, that's a *very* hard look to pull off; and the end result *here* is, he just seems kind of bored.

Slight nitpick in regards to the Heart of Gold's doors. Now, the general idea is, these doors have been given personalities by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation; and they get such a pronounces sense of satisfaction from opening and closing for people that they can't help but sigh in contentment. It looks like they tried to include this, so you'd *think* I'd be talking about this in the adaptation review; but the problem is...

(shows a door on the Heart of Gold closing in the film)

Door: AaaAAAAAaaaaaahhhhhh.

The Dom: Did *that* sound like contentment to you? Because to me, it sounded more like the noise that quite a slow person makes after they've figured out the punchline to a joke ten minutes after everyone else.

(shows The Dom as multiple bar patrons, with one of them pondering for a moment before making the same sound as the door)

The Dom: BTDubs, I didn't miss the show's cast making cameos; but I didn't get all that excited by it either, to be completely honest. And finally, gosh, they did use an awful lot of lo-res stock footage in this big budget film, didn't they?! I mean, I guess sending someone off to get some high-definition recordings of nature to use is a lot of effort; but it just stands out, that's all I'm saying.

Now before we get *truly* started, I suspect I need to preemptively address some of the arguments that fans of this movie tend to throw out in its defense -- and get settled 'cause this is gonna take a few minutes. One of the more annoying is, "Oh, no! How can you hate this movie when it's got Stephen Fry, Bill Nighy, and Alan *Rickman* in it?! Alan *Rickman*, The Dom, ALAN RICKMAN!!!" To which my response has to be, "Look, this is going too far. I *liked* Alan Rickman as much as the next guy, and I was very upset by his tragic and premature death; but this *blind worship* of him is getting out of hand! The mere presence of his *voice* in a movie is not enough to save it; I'm sorry."

The other, more valid argument is the commonly held belief that Douglas Adams would've been fine with the film because he was all for changes being introduced in adaptations, something I myself have mentioned in videos past. This belief stems from interviews with Adams where he talks about the adaption process and how *important* it is to adjust certain things, as much as is *required*, to adapt and take full advantage of the new medium in which it's being experienced. He's also gone on record saying that he always ended up reinventing Hitchhiker's *every time* he sat down to write a new book; the evidence of him putting this into practice is clear and obvious when one considers the *huge changes* between the radio shows and the books from the second series onwards. It's a belief strengthened still by Robbie Stamp often reminiscing about how *excited* Adams was to try some new things out in the film before his death and claiming they'd used *his* original early draft of the script wherever possible.

However, anyone who believes that this should impede what I *assure* you is going to be a rather damning review of this adaptation needs to have their head checked for Arcturan megaleeches, because *something's* definitely sucking out their brains! There are *three* very good reasons for this. The first is, the assumption that I only review adaptations in order to defend the honor of the poor, helpless book authors and, if they were happy with it, I should have no reason to complain as *well* is, quite frankly, simply foolish. I would remind you that J. K. Rowling had no beef with the Harry Potter films, but that didn't stop me and Terrence from tearing *them* apart. This is *my* show and my opinion; and *my* opinion is, this adaptation sucks beyond belief.

The second reason is, I happen to disagree that *any* of what I just mentioned is proof that Douglas Adams was fine with people changing his stories. Yes, the books were intentionally different from the radio show; and yes, he was going to write some new things for the film; but guess what? All that proves is that Douglas Adams was fine with *him* changing his stories. Does no one else think it's a little telling that while he was alive, he was always in charge of adapting his own work? Radio to book, book to radio, radio *and* book to TV; he even held on to creative control of the text *adventure* game from 1984! Sure, there were *some* licensed spin-offs by other authors; but every incarnation of the main Hitchhiker's story had Douglas Adams at the helm until his *last breath*! Does that sound like someone who was fine with other people doing whatever they wanted with his stories?

To believe that making vast changes *himself* means he was also perfectly happy to give anyone *else* a blank check to change as much as *they* want is *bullshit*, and I can cite evidence to support this. Adams said that the TV adaptation was definitely not his favorite of all the Hitchhiker's incarnations, and I can't see it as a coincidence that *that* would have been the one that he had *comparatively* the least creative control over because of all the additional people involved. Even if I'm full of shit and that *wasn't* the reason, how about this? In the 1980s, Adams sold the film right to Ivan Reitman; but *that* adaptation fell apart because Adams *withdrew* because they were trying to make too many changes that he didn't like.

Which leads me to my third and final reason as to why this isn't going to stop me, which is thus. While I have been guilty in the past of claiming that making *changes* to a story is, in of itself, fair grounds to deem it a bad adaptation, that is *not* the basis of my complaints here -- no, my issue is, the changes they *chose* to make *ruined* half the original jokes; *dumbed* down the plot; *crowbarred in* a bunch of new, unnecessary arcs that don't fit the characters; and generally sapped away *everything* that was likable about The Hitchhiker's Guide to the GALAXY!!

On a related, but slightly different note, I also have to call bullshit on claims that Adams wrote the majority of the screenplay for this film; he died *four years* before this film was made. The people *involved* didn't even claim he did; all they've ever said was, he wrote a "draft" and they stuck to it whenever possible -- that is *not* the same thing as a working script, I assure you. Things that appeared in this movie *may* have been his idea initially, but it takes more than a *concept* to make something clever or funny. There is little doubt in my mind that if Adams had lived to see this project to completion, I would have *loved* this film, changes and all; I truly believe that it would have had all the same magic as all the previous incarnations, and it would have been funny and subtle and so very, very intelligent -- but he didn't, and it wasn't. They took all the new ideas that Adams came up with, and they fucking *ruined* them with terrible presentation. So, no, I'm sorry, no "get out of jail free" card for this film; it's going to get the same treatment as every other bad adaptation I've covered so far.

Phew! Sorry for the extensive prologue, Beautiful Watchers. I just happen to know that a lot of other YouTubers who I *respect* quite like this movie; so if I'm gonna go against the flow, I have to make my case iron hard! That said, let's talk adaptation.

As I've discussed in videos past, the Hitchhiker's universe is a tad different to anything I've reviewed so far because it lacks a definitive canon. I'm not gonna go over it all again; but suffice to say, even though there are big differences between the events of the radio show, the books, and the TV show, none of them and *all* of them could be considered the definitive timeline. The film clearly wished to not be left out of this tradition because, even though it seems to rely most heavily on the book, it also clearly draws from all *three* incarnations of the story and even recklessly borrowed things from the *sequels* as well! I hope you all appreciate what a difficult position this puts me in -- things that are inaccurate to *one* version of the story might be perfectly in keeping with *another*; and with no definite original to *refer* to, it's damn near impossible to decide if they should go in the "same", "changed", or "left out" category! Now, after much deliberation, I believe I've come up with an elegant solution to this problem in the form of a *temporary* new category:

Where the Fuck Do I Put This?
The Dom (V.O.): Okay, so, of the *four* major differences between the radio show and the book that I talked about in my last video, the film chose to side with the *book* with three of them: the white mice are total dicks, trying to kill Arthur and take his brain so they can dissect it and look for the ultimate question that they think is hidden within; the film ends with them leaving Magnathea (text appears reading "Yeah I know my pronunciation of Magrathea is terrible but in my defence its a made up planet.") in the Heart of Gold, cutting out all the subsequent events of the radio show, including going to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe by accident, having a meal there, stealing a spaceship, the Golgafrincham B arc, and ending up on prehistoric Earth; and everyone is very emotionally invested in their quests and situations -- Arthur and Trillian are both understandably upset by the destruction of Earth, and Zaphod becomes suicidal after his apparent failure to find the Ultimate Question. The only thing they chose to ignore from the book and lean back towards the radio show in regards to is the complete lack of conspiracies -- Zaphod is back to having given up the presidency because he was bored and thought he could become more rich and famous as an adventurer, as opposed to being a sleeper agent for a group of people trying to discover who was really running the universe; and the Earth is back to being the victim of an uncaring, bureaucratic system that just doesn't give any kind of a fuck instead of being destroyed as part of a master plan to keep the universe from being happy. This was probably because most of the payoff of that stuff took place in the second book, and the film really didn't strike me as being interested in setting up sequels.

The Vogons chasing the Heart of Gold around trying to destroy isn't *completely* new because it's something that takes place in the second book and radio series, even if their reasons for *doing* so are kind of different. Gag Halfrunt, the brain care specialist who appeared in the background of the movie for a few seconds, takes a surprising amount of explaining. Halfrunt is a character from the second series of the radio show who is quite significant because it transpires he's one of the people who arranged the before-mentioned master plan to destroy the Earth, because he didn't want the universe finding out the Ultimate Question, becoming content, and not needing psychiatrists anymore. If you were confused by his apparently completely random line, "Well, Zaphod's just this guy, you know?", that's because it's a recurring joke from the radio show that makes a *lot* more sense in context. However, to chastise the movie for this lack of sense-making would be unfair because that line was the only part of his dialogue that made it into the book as well; so it's more of a pre-existing bad adaptation, if you will. It's one of the few examples of where I thought Adams slipped up when adapting the radio show to book because he clearly thought that Halfrunt's jokes wouldn't work well in written form, but wasn't quite willing to give up on them altogether -- resulting in just the punchline remaining, which just seemed odd and out of place on its own. I guess what I'm *trying* to say, in a kind of long-winded way, is I'm surprised he's in the film at all; I'm thinking he should be considered more of an Easter egg than part of the adaption process. The plot twist that it was Zaphod who signed the Earth's demolition order was borrowed from season two; and it was *Arthur* who got upset about it there, not Trillian, who wasn't *in* season two.

The Dom: Right. Now that that's made things even more confusing than before, we can now move on to the usual categories.

What They Didn't Change
The Dom (V.O.): The first third of the movie is by far the most accurate to its predecessors -- not *everything* I'm about to describe is 100 percent on target -- which, obviously, I'll come back to later -- but it is at least present and recognizable. Arthur's house getting demolished without fair warning by the council; the *Earth* getting demolished without fair warning by the Vogons; Ford *saving* Arthur by getting them beamed onto the Vogon ship; the poetry reading; being cast out of the airlock; being picked up by the Heart of Gold; Zaphod being on the run from the intergalactic government for *stealing* said Heart of Gold; and Trillian, Arthur's crush, being on board.

After that, the film's adherence to the plot gets waaaay more tenuous. They do, however, stick to *some* things throughout, including the explanation that humans are only the *third* most intelligent species on Earth, behind the dolphins and the white mice; the dolphins, becoming *aware* of Earth's impending doom, attempting to *warn* the humans before leaving, but finding us far too stupid to understand their mode of communication; Arthur's iconic dressing gown, first introduced in the TV show and so popular, it was incorporated into all subsequent adaptations and sequels; the babel fish, the creature that one can put inside one's ear to instantly understand all languages in the universe; the beautiful jeweled crabs that were killed and occasionally eaten by the Vogons; the nice little detail that the Vogons' noses are located at the top of their unpleasant faces; the brown substance provided by the Heart of Gold being almost *nothing* like tea and detested by Arthur. There are, apparently, some lines from the radio show that are just *so* iconic, they make it into *every* incarnation of the story, my personal favorite being:

Arthur Dent (in the radio show, TV show, and film): This must be Thursday. I never *could* get the hang of Thursdays.

The Dom (V.O.): Zaphod's terrible dress sense is referenced, though, I don't know, I think he looks kinda cool there -- which is...probably a rather damning reflection of *my* personal tastes. The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, the insanely strong alcoholic drink that Zaphod invented, made it into the film, though its effect on carbon-based life forms seems to have been toned down somewhat. They incorporated the white mice kicking about and manipulating the group into doing what they wanted all the way through, the first of *any* adaptation to actually *show* this instead of just *saying* it happened later. The "Please do not press this button again" button is referenced, though in a new context. The Magnathean automated defense missiles that almost destroyed the Heart of Gold being turned into a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias by the Infinite Improbability Drive; the Magnatheans' history of building planets for people -- though, as I'll explain in a bit, that's pretty much *all* they got right about those guys. A nice *combination* of adaptations is, the Hitchhiker's Guide explaining things as they go along, which is from the radio show; and the fact that it's *animated*, which is from the TV show.

The Dom: So, like I said before, there are worse adaptations out there. I grudgingly have to admit that this is still recognizably The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. However...it's finally time for me to explain WHY I HATE this adaptation so much!

What They Changed
The Dom (V.O.): The first and foremost among the all-encompassing changes in the film is the type of humor it attempts to utilize. Now, I'm not saying it wasn't funny, because that would be unfair -- being funny is, of course, very subjective. *Personally*, I found it about as funny as the idea of getting a vasectomy without an anesthetic; but I'm sure someone somewhere was amused by it. What I *am* saying is, almost *everything* that made the previous incarnations funny -- the dry wit, the bizarre priorities of all the cast, and the double meanings to everything -- is almost entirely absent in the film. It was replaced with slapstick humor -- which is disappointing, but mostly harmless -- and, to my personal horror and disgust, cringe humor -- a trend that was quite fashionable in the mid-2000s and which *is*, in my opinion, an abomination to comedy. Popularized by shows such as The Office -- which, *not* coincidentally, also starred Martin Freeman -- its basic concept is, showing embarrassing and socially awkward situations and hoping the audience will get a kick out of cringing over it.

(shows Arthur Dent and Tricia McMillan at a costume party with loud music playing)

Arthur Dent: I, I guess most of the people who come to these sort of parties are drunken idiots.

Tricia McMillan: What?

(someone bumps the turntable, stopping the music)

Arthur Dent: (yelling) I said all these people are idiots! (realizing the music has stopped) God.

(stands around awkwardly as the other party guests look at him)

The Dom (V.O.): I have to confess, there are *few* things in this world I hate more than this type of humor; and seeing it *crowbarred* into something that used to be as smart and witty as Hitchhiker's *almost prompted me* to walk out of the cinema. Again, I am aware that me hating it is not relevant; *but* it not being in keeping with the original *source* material most certainly is.

The film also handled the Douglas Adams jokes that they *did* keep from the previous incarnations very badly, in my opinion; I got the distinct impression that, in some of the best scenes, they were just sort of going through the motions and expecting it to still be amusing, just *referencing* the jokes from the radio show and the book as if that was all that was needed to make it funny in the film as well. Let me give you some examples. In the radio show, book, and TV show, the reveal that it was going to take Deep Thought seven and a half million years to work out the Ultimate Answer was built up and cleverly misdirected and tied into a bunch of other jokes involving a union of philosophers and the idea that they might go on strike; what made it funny was the clever way it was *delivered*. In the film, it's just *stated*: "Okay, I'll think about it. Come back in seven and a half million years." -- and the super beings barely even react to the information that they're going to have to wait all that time for the answer.

Then later, when the white mice are talking about quitting their mission to unravel the mysteries of the universe after millions and millions of years to go and be TV stars instead, it's just sort of slipped into the conversation; and, again, no one reacts to it. *Any* comedian will tell you that 90 percent of a joke is the presentation; it's the *way* you tell it. The film doesn't treat the *old* jokes as jokes; it just presents you with the information as plot development.

The before-mentioned slapstick introduced into the film takes several forms, the most prominent being some sort of Three Stooges sketch where Arthur, Ford, and Zaphod try to figure out how to pilot the Heart of Gold's escape pod. There's also a scene *right* after that where they're getting literally slapped. The concept of a creature that attacks you every time you have an idea is *supposedly* one of the things that Douglas Adams suggested before his death. The thing is, though, I strongly suspect that Adams had planned to explain what the fuck it was and come up with some hilarious reason for it to be doing that; *without* said reason, it seems entirely pointless and just an excuse to keep the Three Stooges bit going.

In the film, and *just* the film, there's a joke where Ford can't tell the difference between a human male and a human female -- *how* does that make any sense when he's been living on the planet for 15 *years* and *half* the races in the galaxy -- including his *own* -- look exactly like us anyway?! Unlike the book, where he's just as pained by it as everyone else, Arthur seems unaffected by the Vogon poetry in the film and appears simply confused by the situation. This kind of spoils the original joke that there are some poems out there that are just so bad, they physically *hurt* people, and instead implies that aliens...just kind of react to stuff weirdly.

The Perspective Gun is another thing claimed to have originated from Douglas Adams; and...yeah, I'll buy that -- the concept has his creative fingerprints all over it. Its application in the film, however, I'm less sure about, as giving it to Marvin just seems like a rehash of the time when he interfaced with the police computer, and it erased itself as a result.

As I said earlier, my feelings towards Martin Freeman have warmed over the years since I saw this movie, enough so that I'm willing to admit that there's nothing wrong with his acting in this film. The *acting* is not the problem; nope, the problem is, why they chose to cast him in particular and the way they wrote his character -- put another way, *what* the *fuck* did *they do* to Arthur Dent in this movie?! The film basically transplanted Martin Freeman's character from The Office into the Hitchhiker's universe with all of his awkward non-humor and complete lack of backbone! Freeman played Arthur as a sniveling, whiny little wuss of a man who got *bullied* by Zaphod because he didn't have the stones to stand up to him; who cowered in the corner under fire, poring over Trillian, trying to stop *her* from doing anything heroic; and got left behind on Magnathea because he was too afraid to step through the portal while it was still active!

The Dom: Now, I don't usually do this, but I'm just gonna play you something from the original source material.

(from the radio show)

Arthur Dent (V.O.): Want to make something of it?

Thor (V.O.): I beg your miniscule pardon?

Arthur Dent (V.O.): I said, do you want to make something *of* it?

Trillian (V.O.): Arthur?!

Ford Prefect (V.O.): Arthur, he's got a hammer the size of a telegraph pole.

Slartibartfast (V.O.): This is madness, Earthman.

Thor (V.O.): Do *I* want to make something of it?

Arthur Dent (V.O.): Yes! Do you want to step outside?

Thor (V.O.): ALL RIGHT!!!

The Dom: *That*, my Beautiful Watchers, was Arthur Dent challenging Thor, the god of thunder, to a fistfight over Trillian. Now, admittedly, this was part of a clever trick because what Arthur knew and Thor had forgotten was that the building they were standing in was, in fact, flying; so the second that Thor stepped through the *door*, he fell several miles to the ground. *But* my point is, Arthur Philip Dent may not have been an action hero; but he was a hot-blooded, proud Englishman and had a SERIOUS pair of balls! As far as I'm concerned, Arthur Dent is right up there with James Bond, Number Six, and Sherlock Holmes as iconic British icons; and this portrayal of him is an *insult* to my entire nation! Fuck you, film.

Well, (sighs) at least I can take solace in the fact that there *can't* be anything else quite as enraging as that in this film because-

(shows Arthur, Trillian, and Ford on the new Earth)

Arthur Dent: Let's go somewhere.

Trillian: Definitely! Where did you have in mind?

Ford Prefect: I know this great restaurant at the end of the universe.

(shows the Heart of Gold flying through space)

Marvin (V.O.): Not that anyone cares what *I* say, but the restaurant is at the *other* end of the universe.

(the ship turns around and flies back the way it came)

(The Dom starts seething with anger)

The Dom: TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!!! The RESTAURANT at the End of the UNIVERSE is at the end of TIME!!! It's not the PHYSICAL end of the universe because THAT would be the fucking EDGE of the universe, and there's NO such thing as the other END of TIME because that would be THE BEGINNING!!! Also, the Big Bang Burger Bar, that's a WHOLE OTHER THING!! The last joke of the movie, the thing you thought was good enough to END on doesn't make ANY FUCKING SENSE IN CONTEXT OR OUT OF IT! *This* was in the radio show; the TV show; and all of the books, ONE OF WHICH IS FUCKING NAMED AFTER IT!! HOW THE FUCK did you MISUNDERSTAND the BASIC CONCEPT of the RESTAURANT AT THE END OF THE UNIVERSE, YOU FUCKING IMBECILES?!?!! BELGIUM!!!!!!

(jumps out a window and runs screaming through his neighborhood)

(continued in Part 2)