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Last night we went with Alexander to see Hitch Hikers' Guide to the Galaxy. There'd been a thunderstorm preceeded by hailstones like golf balls, so there was a bit of hassle getting a taxi, but we got there eventually.

It's a splendid film, funny, engaging and all that. As someone said, it's managed to keep a British atmosphere. I could be a boring old twat and say that a lot of the wit of the original radio series has been missed out, (and I was there, back in 1978 when it first aired on R4), and so it has, but this IS a movie.

The only really unforgivable flaw is the love interest with Arthur and Trillian and poor Martin Freeman having to make that cringeworthy, Hollywood I-love-her-but-I-blew-it speech just as the white mice are about to remove his brain... Even at that, there's a wonderful and presumably intentional bit of irony, because the mice are going on to him about their need for 'product'.

And did anyone notice the Marvin from the TV series in the queue on Vogsphere?

One of my colleagues in Libya is an utter wanker, arse-licker and back-stabber. His resemblance, in every sense, to that Vogon who reads poetry to Arthur and Ford is astonishing.

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