The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (19July05)

This week's movie was extra early. It started at 7. So, with our typical planning and forethought, we left home at 6:30, after shoveling in our dinner. When we got to the theater, I was shocked. The parking lot was practically deserted. We barely had to walk to get from the car to the ticket booth.

"There's no one here!" I exclaimed, thinking about why that could possibly be (so I could add it as a factor in our scientific movie-selecting procedure). It was Tuesday, so tickets were only 50 cents. And it was hotter than hell inside -- and nice and cool inside. Why wouldn't the place be packed?

Paul interrupted my train of thought. "But it's still early..." he told me.

Right. It was still before 7. By 7:30, it would most likely look like the parking lot at Disneyworld.

We got right in. We stepped right up to the ticket line and bought our tickets. We flew right past the nearly-comatose ticket-ripper ("First one of the left," he mumbled almost inaudibly as he handed our ripped tickets back). We marched right into the theater and snatched a couple of seats in the back row. We learned our lesson when we saw Monster-in-Law -- the back seats are the best seats (unless, of course, you're joined, once the movie has already started, by three obnoxious women who demand that you give them your seat -- not that I'm bitter or anything).

Thanks to the close parking spot and the non-existent lines, we arrived in plenty of time to test our knowledge of movie trivia while the theater filled up around us. We were in one of the small theaters, so I didn't really expect a huge crowd. But we got one anyway. I watched as people began to gather in the back of the theater, trying to find a couple of vacant seats. I watched as they made their way into the theater, wandering blindly through the dark, climbing over top of people, trying to get to those last remaining seats.

Still, a few rows ahead of us sat three Every Other Seat Guys. Due to their extreme homophobia -- or whatever it is that compels men to have to keep one seat between them at all times, so they have to yell in order to converse with one another -- these three men had taken up almost an entire row of seats. All around them, people squeezed together, trying to fit everyone in. But these three guys refused to sit next to their friends in order to allow a couple more people to actually sit down through the movie. Elsewhere, people moved and rearranged their seating arrangements to accommodate the crowd. The little girl (who really wasn't all that little) in the row in front of us climbed up on her dad's lap so her dad's friend could sit with them.

But the Every Other Seat Guys didn't budge. They didn't, however, get to keep their own row. A young couple decided to brave the Guys' fortified ranks and climb over top of them, taking seats at the very end of the row. The young woman sat next to the wall; the young man sat next to one of the Guys. So that shows that an Every Other Seat Guy would much rather sit right next to a total stranger than sit next to his friend, with whom he came to the movie. I don't really get it, but I guess that's just me.

Since the review of the movie has already been published on NightsAndWeekends.com (read Timothy's review), I'll give my two cents here. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is brilliant. It's been ages since I read the book, so I didn't go to analyze how closely the filmmakers stuck to the story. Instead, I let myself just sit back and enjoy the movie. And I did. I loved the singing dolphins. I loved Zaphod. And I especially loved the scene when the ship turns into a big ball of yarn, and the crew turns into knit puppet (and Arthur pukes pretty bright-colored yarn). But that's just me.

If you love geeks and British humor, it's a must-see.