Man-children everywhere finally have representation. With Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly together you know you’re going to get laughs, though considering the length of this movie there should have been a few more.

Anchorman it is not. In the supporting cast, or at least the comedic supporting roles this movie stumbles. They really aren’t given the lines or time needed to shine. Add that with the fact that the movie hardly ever gets past the central joke…39 year-olds living at home and acting like children…and what you’ve got is a solid rental. If you’ve seen all the trailers you’ve seen most of the best parts, and I hate it when that happens.

Oh the highly anticipated follow-up to the resurgent Batman catalog! As with Batman Begins, The Dark Knight is directed by Christopher Nolan, and this is definition summer blockbuster stuff folks—it’s comic book inspired, a sequel, and full of action. The film doesn’t disappoint, and in some ways improves upon Begins.

First, Maggie Gyllenhaal steps in for Katie Holmes, which completely eliminates the possibility we’d have to try and take Katie Holmes seriously for over two hours. Dear Maggie, thank you, thank you, thank you. Heath Ledger’s performance should also be greatly appreciated. Although I’m far from bestowing an immediate posthumous Oscar, call me a hold-out, Heath’s Joker was plenty sinister.

What was most intriguing to me in the film was something completely unexpected—an all-out attack on warrantless wiretaps and the PATRIOT Act.

(VERY MINOR SPOILER AHEAD.)

“No man should have such power,” claims Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox, as he’s asked by Batman to monitor an entire city by using Gotham’s cell phones as impromptu sonar receivers. Batman admirably promises that the monitoring system will be put down when the present crisis abates. How responsible of you Batman! I suppose it’s no wonder privacy is one of the rights you choose to celebrate…as opposed to say Habeas Corpus…Batman solves crime with his fists dammit, not due process. Such is the strange relationship between necessary ass-kickings and lawyerly heroics in Gotham City. That much we’ve come to expect from these movies I’d argue, but a blatant attack on the Bush administration’s heavy handed “safeguarding” techniques was a big surprise to me. Well, somebody’s got to say it right? It might as well be Batman and Lucius Fox. As far as I know, fictional characters are the only people you can’t send down to Gitmo.

There are many other strong themes to explore in the film, the vicious survival instinct embedded deep in humanity, the corruptibility and delicacy of the modern psyche, and of course the thin line between anarchy and the orderly society we presume is good. TDK isn’t a perfect movie, but for summer pulp action you can’t ask for much more.

Note: I wrote this review the day after Cloverfield was released, just after watching the movie. I delayed posting it because I felt it was too pessimistic. However, upon reflection, I realize this is pretty much on par with the rest of my movie reviews, so I’m cleaning out the “Drafts” bin.

I love a good thriller and I love a good mystery. If you promise both of those with a trailer that graciously doesn’t distill the entire plot of the movie in 15 seconds then I’m pretty much already standing in line at the Cinerama. Nice work J.J. I’d love for your example—an alternative to culture-spamming the movie synopsis across all spectrum of media—to become the norm.

Cloverfield is difficult to watch. I consider myself a hardened soul, nearly impervious to disorienting camera convulsions—not out of superior physiology mind you—but typically a potent mixture of perseverance, spite, and judicial application of Maritime’s Jolly Roger. I hate overzealous camera shake in movies but as a frequent movie-goer in this day I’ve come to feel it’s a necessary penance.

I digress. Cloverfield’s major flaw isn’t the camera shake, but the botched early character development. The lack of sincerity, the blanket of unreality at the start of the film cheats the rest of the movie out of what it deserves…genuine attachment to central characters.

So What’s Great in Cloverfield?
Hud is the guy who carriers the camera for the majority of the film, and while he’s physically in the background, providing narration, he’s reduced to being a mechanical (and frequently comic) device. The camera lens is a barrier between him and reality, and capturing becomes more important than feeling—despite the tragic circumstances. Even facing death taking pictures takes precedent. “Hud” conjures H.U.D., a “heads up display” in a fighter cockpit or increasingly popular as informational readouts projected onto consumer car windshields or motorcycle helmet visors. Hud is a transparent purveyor of information, and the camera that lets us experience his trauma cheats him out of that experience.

That’s the important place that Cloverfield goes. The beginning of the film introduces the footage as property of the Department of Defense. An evidence. An entry in a database. A visual archive and nothing more.

At what cost do we come by our digital rememberences?

Yesterday at the Hazel Wolf Environmental Film Festival I took in Arid Lands, a documentary of the early years of Hanford, and the people and geography of the Columbia Basin. Having grown up the area, I was particularly curious to see how this landscape of diversity, or even better irony, would be portrayed in a documentary.

A film by Grant Aaker and Josh Wallaert, Arid Lands is an excellent overview of the massive contradictions that confound the Columbia Basin. From war machine to environmentalism, irrigation and farming to rampant development. The Tri-Cities is a complacent community that’s as grateful for it’s nuclear history as it is wary of it…the entire area is inextricably tied to the wake of plutonium production, and now the biggest environmental cleanup in the history of the planet.

The film did well to not delve too deeply into issues that could easily sidetrack what was the star—the land. No mention was made of downwinders, while particular emphasis was placed on the changing landscape—quickly changing from an agrarian base to a service-based economy bolstered by tourism. While the wine industry flourishes, other agriculture is consumed by ever-expanding housing developments—quickly erected with little planning or thoughts of the native landscape.

It’s a well-rounded film with a great diversity of viewpoints, excellently shot and edited. If you’re at all interested in the history of Hanford and the Columbia Basin, this is highly recommended.

Zodiac is a recounting of the people and events surrounding a series of unsolved murders throughout the Bay area in the 1960s. It was based on the non-fiction works of Robert Graysmith, a cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle during the killings.

But let’s get one thing straight, San Francisco is nice and all, but as far as serial killers go nobody holds a candle to the Northwest.

They might not all make the silver screen, but the likes of Robert Pickton and Gary Ridgway are so much scarier than The Zodiac killer it boggles the mind. Yes, we’ve got crazies up here that Jake Gyllenhaal wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot pole.

Mark Ruffalo as lead detective Dave Toschi is outstanding, as is Robert Downey Jr. in the role of Chronicle crime reporter Paul Avery. This movie is worth watching just for their performances, they even overshadow the complete lack of chemistry between Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) and his family, and the less than convincing “obsessive” that Graysmith devolves toward as he attempts to unravel the Zodiac crimes.

The movie is long, 2 hours and 40 minutes long, and its stodgy pacing forces you to ask why. Slashing 30 minutes off the picture would’ve gone a long way toward making it a more taut thriller, but it still has great performances and the kind of disturbing imagery that will make you think twice about walking around the streets of Seattle San Francisco tonight.

It might be that Mike Judge’s Idiocracy is more notable for what happened to the movie before it hit theaters than for what shows up on screen.

[Idiocracy was] expanded to only 125 theaters, not the usual wide release of 2500-3000 theaters. According to the Austin American-Statesman ^[5], 20th Century Fox, the film’s distributor, did nothing to promote the movie — while posters were released to theatres, no movie trailers, television ads, or press kits for media outlets were provided. The film was not screened for critics^[6]. Lack of concrete information from 20th Century Fox led to speculation that Fox may have actively tried to keep the film from being seen by a large audience… Wikipedia Entry

It’s not hard to imagine 20th Century Fox being less than thrilled with Judge’s look at 500 years into our future. At that time, intelligence has been completely bread out of the human population. Corporations have both hastened our fall and ensured the populations’ continued depravity. Starbucks sells handjobs, and Braundo, a sports drink manufacturer, has bought both the F.D.A. and F.C.C. in order to replace water as the preferred beverage nationwide.

The President of the United States is a porn-star and champion wrestler. The only thing that doesn’t change is FOX News.

Idiocracy is funny and entertaining, as most things from Mike Judge are, but the script is light – it gives the distinct feeling that more should be said – damn witty commentary but not every bit the biting social critique it could be.

Bond: “Martini.”

Bartender: “Shaken or stirred?”

Bond: “Does it look like I care?”

It was never more explicit – the old Bond is out, and the new Bond – Daniel Craig – gets bloody, nasty, and emotionally involved while in the service of Her Majesty.

There are a few problems with Casino – most notably the movie would be vastly improved by chopping off 30 minutes. A stunning chase scene at the beginning of the feature is too long, as are several poker scenes. (And yet the screenplay never takes the time to explain why the central villain bleeds from his eye.) Product placement is rampant.

By showing James in his formative years, Casino Royale is classic but surprisingly fresh – a good introduction to the new Bond.

Say hello to the new American nuclear family. Fractured, bitter, psychologically unstable yet completely lovable.

In Little Miss Sunshine twists of fortune send the Hoover family road-tripping across three states to enter seven year old Olive (Abigail Breslin) in a beauty pageant. The mode of transport is a canary VW Bus, that wheeled icon of freedom and opportunity. Not surprisingly the bus is showing the same signs of age as the idealism that forged it.

Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris’s first feature film is about the pageantry we all endure or espouse, ludicrous pretension, and in the end family. It’s well acted, wonderfully tight (perfect run-time of about 100 min!) and completely hilarious. Greg Kinnear and Toni Collette are perfect as the parents and Steve Carrell does well to show versatility as the “top Proust scholar in America.”

Also catch the well-placed melodies of DeVotchKa, a band I’ve been enjoying for quite a while. Go see this film; if every movie in the theaters today was this good as Sunshine I’d miss them quite a bit more than I do now.

Superman does indeed return thanks to a screenplay from Michael Dougherty and Dan Harris, and direction from Bryan Singer. (Singer is of X-Men, X2 and The Usual Suspects fame.) Superman Returns is a mediocre spin on a franchise that’s been dead since the 80s, and thankfully asserts itself in the “Super” timeline five years after Superman II, apparently burying the embarrassing Superman III and IV in one large kryptonite coffin.

Superman Returns, with Baggage

Brandon Routh plays Superman dutifully. He’s got both the chiseled jaw and the labored-savior chip-on-the-shoulder act down pat. What he’s missing is the charisma and confidence you’d expect in the Man of Steel. This carefully crafted super looks more like he’s trying to please the comic book set than take his character in a new direction. (Which is a shame.)

Routh’s apathetic attitude is endemic throughout the movie. There are high points in the film—set design, production, costuming, all which take a clever look back at clean art-deco lines mashed with a hint of 70s glam—while keeping us firmly planted in a technologically modern Metropolis. However, after seeing the film I feel there was far too much time making sure the movie “looked like” Superman than creating a valuable new chapter in the series.

Superman’s language is dull, almost perplexingly so. Are we really supposed to be so bored with the dialogue as to spend more time contemplating the physics behind the CG cape he wears than the emotional state of the characters he interacts with?

(Shoot, I thought I could complete this review without sarcasm. Unlikely I suppose…here it comes…)

OMG Lex Luthor has kryptonite. Watch out Superman WATCHOUT. Superman can FLY. Even up into space. He can save people that are falling, use X-Ray vision, and blow out fires with icy wind spawned from his super-manly lungs. These are old tricks and in this film we see them over and over again like they are a novel concept. Very disappointing.

Kevin Spacey was charismatic as usual, but certainly lacked the shockingly sinister demeanor you’d expect from a man bent on killing billions in the process of making a killing at real estate. Without destroying the plot for someone who hasn’t seen the film, Lex wants to make an island. No, a big island, a really evil island. And he’s using Kryptonite so Superman can’t stop him from making a killing at real estate, again. No, really. I was more freaked out by American Beauty pot-smoking Kevin Spacey than this Lex.

Superman- Invincible But For Two Things: Kryptonite and Falling Action

I walked into the Cinerama hoping Superman Returns would be every bit as good as Spiderman I and II. Instead I found a film that was sloppily edited and overproduced. Shaving off 20-30 minutes of clichés would make this film seem a bit less wrote, a smidge less trite.

In the end what can we say about our most beloved of superheroes? Well, he’s no Spiderman. Ouch. When you’re up in the stars it’s a long fall back to Earth, even for Superman.

It’s not a spoon and not a fork, but instead an abbreviated list of the movies I haven’t had time to fully review in the past few months.

Yes, this is an unrequested mountain of content and the term SPORC sounds a bit like SPAM. This is not accidental, but these snippets are hopefully slightly more utilitarian than your unwanted email. After all a spork is indeed a utensil—just a stupendously annoying one. I’ve learned movie reviews can be somewhat similar, useful to most but annoying to nearly all for one reason or another.

But fearless, I press on. In-depth movie reviews are one of my most frequently requested features, so what could be better than ditching the “in-depth” part and substituting a one-line snarky observation? Quantity over quality? (Like SPAM, the email or the meat) Oh yes, I’ve got that now. A poor combination of multiple specializations—critique and recommendation? (Like a SPORK) Got that now too.

In a perfect world I’d have heaps of time to wax philosophic on all of these movies, but instead I leave you weeping over your bowl of processed meat, punching your keyboard with your spoon/fork hybrid in order to check your unrequested email—all the time wondering what I would have to say about these movies if I had the time to write a complete review. (Well, a guy can dream.)

You may have questions. Why could I possibly find it productive to explain movie reviews with spam and sporks? Why would I endorse a film review system kindred to a cruel spoon/fork offspring?

The mule of tableware.

What does that even mean?

Some questions may never be answered, so for today please enjoy: SPORC Episode I

8.3 - Me and You and Everyone We Know

Funny, uncomfortably honest. Highly recommended

8.1 - Crash

Surprisingly great, given high levels of Ludacris, Matt Dillon, Los Angeles

8.0 - Doctor Zhivago

An epic, and not just in duration. Has Alec Guinness (which equals radness)

7.5 - Treasure of the Sierra Madre

On Bogey and badges

7.4 - On the Waterfront

This movie could’ve been is a contender

7.1 - Hustle and Flow

Whoop. That. Trick.

6.8 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Imagine Harry Potter, but with more sexual tension than the last season of Days of Our Lives

6.5 - Walk the Line

No men shot in Reno, but still good

6.0 - War Photographer

Includes scenes shot with a video camera mounted on still camera (which equals radness)

5.9 - The School of Rock

A level at which there is “too much Jack Black” has been identified

5.0 - The Exorcism of Emily Rose

Skip Emily and exercise my boredom. I beg of you. Exercise my boredom

4.8 - Dogtown and Z-Boys

Remember when you were rad? Yeah well these guys DO

3.8 - The Island

I’m a sucker for sci-fi. This movie proves it

2.9 - The Village

A level at which there is “too much Shyamalan” has been identified (does not equal radness)

• About the Ratings

In an ideal world I’d never feel a conflict between the quality of a film and my enjoyment of it—this would truly make the reviews a lot easier to write. In light of this not being an ideal world I am forced to divulge my bias: I never enjoyed Lewis’s books, and while Narnia is a very good film, I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I probably should have. And with that said, I move on to the inevitable C.S. Lewis J.R.R. Tolkien comparison.

C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien were not just contemporaries fond of initials in lieu of first names, but colleagues, friends, and occasionally rivals. Lewis’ overtly biblical novels will always lie in stark contrast to Tolkien’s more obfuscated works, but this makes sense with Tolkien drawing much inspiration from Norse sagas and Anglo-Saxon poetry, while Lewis’s work was spawned more from Milton, Greco-Roman deities and fairy tales; and most importantly his rebirth of faith conjured by Tolkien himself (and additional contemporary Hugo Dyson).

The two authors’ relationship is even more pertinent today than it was then, as the Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings Trilogy winds down and Andrew Adamson’s adaptation of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe starts to wind up. (No word yet on film trilogy based on teachings/critiques of Hugo Dyson.)

So why does this reviewer get less enjoyment from The Chronicles of Naria than The Lord of the Rings? With Lewis’s work it’s not the thinly veiled biblical overtones that trouble me at all, but stylistically it’s the nearly cacophonous mash-up the stories represent as a whole. That’s also part of why they are brilliant, and wonderful for children (or at least those who haven’t read much history or medieval lit). Mixing Santa Claus with greek gods? I’m sad to say it drives me crazy—but more importantly I can’t imagine any child that would oppose Santa appearing in any movie, whether contextually appropriate or not.

And finally, to the really short part, the review

Narnia, you know, for the kids. This picture succeeds on nearly all levels: the children perform very well, the special effects are entertaining, and most importantly the right decisions were made in the always difficult novel to film transition. The movie wins over much as the book does, so if you adored the series this is a must see. However, if you fall into my camp it’s just a pretty good show that can certainly wait until it costs less than $10.

That’s it. What, did you actually expect me to talk about the actual movie in such a long review? Pushaw.

Action Peter Jackson has graduated with his latest blockbuster from small furry creatures (hobbits), to large ones (25 foot apes). Will the scale of the CG madness never end? Probably not, call it the 10,000 pound gorilla in the room, it’s so impressive in King Kong that this CG ape would eat orcs like oyster crackers and floss his teeth with fighting uruk hai.

Naomi Watts as Ann Darrow is excellent as a depression-era vaudeville actress desperate for a break. Filmmaker Carl Denham is played by Jack Black, who is apt and confident but mysteriously uncompelling as a shallow, publicity-mongering self-promoter. Writing Denham’s latest movie is Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody), the eventual (boring, unconvincing) love interest of Darrow, who plays second-fiddle to you-know-who. (Cocoa’s colosal cousin.)

Visually this film is sensuous. The city scenes are exciting, the jungles are terrifying, and the animals are simply amazing. The story line however is regrettably prolonged, at several junctures action scenes are strung out to monotonous length. Most notably the entire “central” portion of the film on Kong’s island is very long, action-packed, but with several twists and character kill-offs that simply weren’t necessary to further the plot. After all this, the inevitable return to civilization is unfairly limited to falling action.

Disappointing too is Jackson’s choice to portray the island natives as mud-dwelling savages, dirty, beastly, and bent only on killing and human sacrifice. I suppose cliché’s are always undaunted by time, but this is more shockingly distasteful than suspenseful.

The great ape is still greatly impressive despite the issues surrounding him, making Kong a great feature to watch—surely deserving of a trip to the big screen. However, this is still a Peter Jackson film—make sure you’ve got a full three hours free before you attempt to tame this beast.

Spielberg’s Munich is a dark retelling of events following the 1972 Olympic killings, a story of revenge for those infamous “Black September” deaths. Avner, (Eric Bana) is a former bodyguard of Golda Meir, recruited to secretly assassinate all who conspired to execute the Munich kidnappings. This film is extremely violent, suspenseful, and difficult to watch—based on the George Jonas novel Vengeance—it might have been more appropriately named as such.

The flashback scenes to the 72 Munich games are stunningly visceral, and just as effective as the scenes detailing killings orchestrated by the Israeli retaliators led by Avner. Spielberg is as even-handed as could be expected being inarguably the most famous Jewish filmmaker in the world, the movie condemns the savagery and futility of all killings stemmed from religious fervor.

Three things I would have told Steven Spielberg if I had seen War of the Worlds before he began production on it. Warning, I don’t usually do this but SPOILERS may lie ahead:

1. Don’t make them come out of the ground. It doesn’t add anything and is unfaithful to the original work. Why plant machines millennia in advance if you still have to fly motherships over top to “activate” them with funky lightning? Think about it, if you were an alien you’d probably just drop them off when you got there.
2. Kill the boy. This is where you should deviate from the original piece—at this point the miraculous penultimate reunion is painfully cliché.
3. Tom Cruise will end up being scarier than the tripods. Work with it.

Don’t get me wrong this is a great work of science fiction, it’s loaded with suspense and the special effects are excellent, but in the end it’s all a bit too Spielberg to really blow me away.

Crass and offensive—yet totally hilarious. Wedding Crashers spews line after line of misogynistic banter but somehow comes off naive and playful enough to be not quite as offensive as it should be. Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson are their normal selves and are in prime form. Excellent pacing and well delivered; if you liked Old School this is your next wedding reception’s prerequisite.

Matthew Vaughn’s Layer Cake is mostly well acted I’ll give it that, but beyond that you’ll find nothing surprising in this London drugs n’ crime cliche. The action’s been done better in Lock Stock and the story was perfectly predictable the first three times around after Carlito’s Way. (A gangster’s trying to get “out” and it’s hard to leave “the life.” Really hard. OMG.)

At times Layer Cake (or as the packaging proclaims “L4yer Cake“) is so trite I thought it was pure satire, a clever send-off in the vein of Yojimbo. If that’s the case it’s this flick’s only saving grace. Layer Cake is entertaining, but unless you really love yourself a Brit crime flick skip this one.

Christian Bale is excellent in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, the best Dark Knight implementation since Keaton and Nicholson. What works in this film is the level of ‘humanity’ that runs throughout- Batman at this point is still just a man, discovering who he is and ultimately fighting himself as much as his physical enemies. (As a bonus the villains are not completely silly, which is quite a departure from the last few movies.)

Katie Holmes is fairly bland but the rest of the cast makes up for it, and though I’m still wanting a bit of an explanation as to Ra’s Al Ghul’s motivation this is still a good movie. A must see for Batman fans and a good place to begin for anyone else.

Separate Lies, written and directed by Julian Fellowes, is the tale of a seemingly ambiguous couple’s relationship becoming increasingly disjointed after a motorist strikes a bicyclist near their Buckinghamshire cottage.

James and Anne Manning are introduced as a docile, wealthy, and mostly happy couple—exactly the type that has everything figured out—which leaves them set virtuously high and apart from their world’s plebeians. Their fate quickly proves however that morality, faithfulness, and ultimately forgiveness cut through all of society’s strata.

The film’s pace is contemplative if not stodgy, but the performances all around are quite good. The lack of violence and pitched drama pleasantly focuses attention on the sensible dialogue of the characters, my favorite of which is William Bule, played by Rupert Everett, a vacuous and self-absorbed blue blood. Entertaining, well done, but not spectacularly innovative.

Behold, the majesty of fake wood on the web. After much contemplation, trepidation, consternation, and many other -nations, I’ve just finished up the last touches of a new film ratings standard for the site. (Check out an example right over there → )

The old scale, of SKIP IT, RENT IT, MATINEE, FULL PRICE fame, was actually very fun in retrospect. Over its lifetime I received quite a few compliments on its practical nature, utility, and straight-up novelty, however in the end it caused me strife in three not-so-shocking ways:

1. Not enough variety
2. Doesn’t apply to old / rented movies
   (Ah I heard that from everyone. Extrapolate people…you must learn to extrapolate.)
3. Movie prices go up, and I foolishly included monetary figures on the graphics
   (Updating-graphics-time interferes with my quality movie-rating-time.)

 

An old Full Price Banner, in all its glory
 

Badges, We Don’t Need No Stinking Badges

In the end what I’ve got is a more “standard” 10.0 scale if you could call it that, disappointing in some (creative) respects but beautifully comprehensive in others. For instance now I’ve got a full 100 potential ratings to choose from, yet I’ve completely avoided a system based on thumbs, stars, or fiendish popcorn bag icons. A success already.

Backwards Compatible Hypertext

Amidst these 100 points of freedom I’ve interspersed 4 different colored rating icons—so for fans of the old system each color can represent one of the old ratings.

     

• The venerable SKIP IT has now turned black (oh how evil) and catches any film rated as suck-tastic as 2.9 and below
• RENT is a blue multi-pronged star of mediocrity and covers 3.0 to 5.9
• MATINEE quality flicks go green between 6.0 and 7.9
• FULL PRICE gains the lofty orange badging when 8.0 and above

The old reviews will remain rated as is so only the newbies will get the crazy woodgrain treatment. Ye old banner system had some three years of quality life so I’m not too bereaved at this time of its passing, but I’m also not assuming that this scale will last as long without some tweaks—but only time shall tell.

I came to the Guide with only a basic notion of the themes of Douglas Adams’ famous sci-fi Trilogy in Five Parts, and ultimately I was a little disappointed when I discovered a greater understanding of the books is pretty close to requisite knowledge for the movie. Nevertheless, Guide’s whimsical, sarcastic, and happily understated humor was still very enjoyable.

Visually it’s a breathe of fresh air to witness a science fiction movie that didn’t throw the entire bankroll at heavy-handed CG, but when that’s combined with a plot that reads more like a chapter overview than a page-turner and the entire experience falls just a little short.

The movie follows Arthur Dent (Martin Freeman), a hapless and homely Englishman who not only finds out that his home is to be demolished to make way for an expressway bypass, but that his planet (yeah, Earth) is to be destroyed to make way for an interstellar freeway. Luckily his friend Ford Prefect (Mos Def) is actually an alien spending time on earth adding to the nearly omniscient font of knowledge known as the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The two ‘hitchhike’ and avoid destruction (though I think the rest of us are just S.O.L.).

I won’t soon forget the singing dolphins or the endlessly bureaucratic blobish Vogons, but temper the fun images with an overtly transparent romance and a couple of empty sequences of forced and hollow dialogue and film is just far too flat for my taste. Perhaps this can be appreciated more by a seasoned Adams aficionado, but for the layman it’s doomed to being just another acceptable book to film translation.