There is an intelligence at work in these books that I was trying to preserve. Douglas was a great satirist because he possessed a very real understanding of the incredibly heady concepts he was satirizing. In one interview he said that if they had had computers when he was in school and had taught computer science, that’s probably what he would have pursued. He also could have been a theoretical physicist; he was that knowledgeable on the subject. So it was important to me that that intelligence remains at the epicentre of the piece. It’s what I love about Python’s
Life of Brian.
That movie is just a hair’s breadth away from being viable theology. So the goal was to create something that had pace and narrative structure and an emotional storyline that an audience would care about and put all of that in the context of this very intellectual, irreverent, satirical world.
Again, I found myself going back to Douglas’s drafts, which were much shorter than mine. He cut much more mercilessly than I did, so I felt I had some leeway there. Mostly I had to cut a few of the
Guide
entries with the assurance that they would end up on a DVD someday in the future. And what’s great about the
Guide
entries is that they are somewhat modular, so final decisions regarding them can be made after filming is complete and the movie is assembled.
What did you do when Jay Roach decided not to direct
and who the hell are those Hammer and Tongs guys?
I’ll be honest. One of the main reasons I got into the project was to have a chance to work with Jay. Mutual friends had told me we had similar temperaments and sensibilities and that it would be a good match, and they were right. Jay was an invaluable collaborator on the outline and first two drafts. He put in a lot of time with me, and the script wouldn’t be the success it is without his involvement. So I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was feeling a bit gutted when he decided this wasn’t the best film to make his next.
But what followed was an interesting process because several names were bandied about and I even met with one of them (and we’re talking A-list directors here). And the general sentiment from all of them was: “No, thank you, I don’t want to be known as the guy who screwed this one up.” And part of me understood and another part of me was saying, “Oh, God, does that mean
I’m
going to be known as the guy who screwed this up?”
But Jay gave the script to Spike Jonze and Spike said he couldn’t do it but he knew the perfect guys and he suggested Hammer and Tongs. And when I got the call that I was to have a conference call with said Hammer and said Tong, I asked the question everyone seems to be asking—“Who are they and what have they done?” Needless to say, it wasn’t of much comfort to find out they had never directed a feature. And I didn’t get a chance to watch their commercial and music video reel before the call (because my DVD player wouldn’t play UK Region 2, but I digress), but when I heard that they wanted to talk to the writer before talking to anyone else, I thought, “Hey, these guys are either very cool or
very
naive. Don’t they know screenwriters are but a fly on the ass of this business?”
Let me just say of my experience with Hammer and Tongs that not since working with Nick Park and Peter Lord at Aardman have I worked with people with more creative spark and inspiration. Each conversation I had with either of them improved the script in some way. In retrospect, it feels like it was meant to be. I now can’t imagine this movie in anyone else’s hands. I didn’t think anything could inspire me on
Hitchhiker’s
more than the source material, and I am happy to say I was wrong. So in May of 2003, Nick Goldsmith and Garth Jennings came on board. I flew to London with Derek Evans from Spyglass to have three days of intense meetings at their office which, as it turned out, was a converted barge sitting in a river somewhere in Islington. They had “some ideas” for the third draft, and I’ll admit at the time I was very apprehensive and guarded. It’s always a bit of a nail-biting moment when directors come on board, especially ones from the world of commercials and music video. But their ideas were inspired and showed not only that they were incredible visual thinkers but also that they had a very strong sense of narrative structure. I left London with an outline and a feeling that the script would improve and the movie was in very good hands.
To this day, however, I am embarrassed to say I still don’t know which one is Hammer and which one is Tongs.
Quit being so vague! Give us specifics, damn it! What’s
in the movie and what isn’t?
Sorry to say, I will continue to be vague. I really don’t want this to turn into a “what Karey did versus what Douglas did” situation. By Douglas’s own admission,
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to
the Galaxy
is a story with a long beginning and then an ending. There isn’t much middle. And movies need a middle. So most of the new material comes in the middle. Douglas created much of it. I took what he did and enhanced, expanded and connected (much like a Wonderbra—and this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been compared to that miraculous contraption).
More has been made of the Arthur–Trillian relationship and the Arthur–Trillian–Zaphod triangle. Douglas knew, as I know, that in order to make a feature film bankrolled by an American studio that is to play on the global stage there needs to be a certain amount of attention paid to character, character relationships and emotion. The trick here is doing that while staying true to the spirit of the book, which is what I hope we’ve done. It’s fine if there’s a bit of a love story, it just can’t be sentimental and sappy.
But I think people, especially diehard
Hitchhiker’s Guide to
the Galaxy
fans, will be happy to see that it is very much the same story as the radio play, the book and the TV series with all the well-known and beloved scenes, characters and concepts. Arthur, Ford, Trillian, Zaphod, Marvin, Eddie, Vogons, Slartibartfast, Deep Thought, Lunkwill & Fook, the mice, whales, petunias, dolphins, 42, even Gag Halfrunt, all present and accounted for.
Do you consider yourself to be in the Mister Friggin’
Lucky Club?
Yes. Definitely. This was a unique assignment for me because it became more than just a job. Actually, all of them are more than just a job because as one famous quote goes, “Writing is easy, you just open a vein and let it pour onto the page.” I always feel I do a bit of that on each project (yes, even
Honey We
Shrunk Ourselves
—a small vein maybe, but a vein nonetheless). But this one was different. This became a quest: a quest to do the memory of Douglas Adams proud. And that has been the attitude of essentially every person who has joined this production (except for the accountants, who say they want to do the memory of Douglas’s accountants proud, but hey—whatever works). Never before have I been involved with a project where everyone seems to be aiming for a higher cause, which is great because it means egos get checked at the door. Each time the film enjoys some form of success along its way (getting a director, getting the green light, attaching cast, etc.) it is always bittersweet because we’re happy to see what was Douglas’s lifelong hope becoming a reality, but deeply saddened that he can’t be here to enjoy it with us.
Before turning in our third draft to the studio, Garth, Nick, Robbie and I gave the script to Douglas’s wife, Jane, and then went over to her house (ironically a ten-minute walk from the Hammer and Tongs barge) for a chat and, of course, tea (this was England, after all, and whenever two or more people assemble in England, it is national law that tea must be served. I’m from Louisiana and we have a similar law that involves Dr Pepper and Cheetos). We were so relieved and delighted to hear that she was very happy with the script. She gave us some of her thoughts, but most importantly—her blessing.
I think fans will be pleased and I trust new fans will be created in the summer of 2005.
What is your favourite line from the book?
Tough question. So many great ones. Many of my favourites from the book are actually in the prose, like Easter really meaning small, flat and light brown or the passage about Hooloovoos, which are super-intelligent shades of the colour blue. How did this guy think up this stuff? Amazing. I read lines like that and I am humbled and awed.
Most of my favourite lines of dialogue, however, are said by the Voice of the
Guide
or the narrator. I love the passage about Vogon poetry and the Azgoths of Kria and how, during a recitation of a poem by Grunthos the Flatulent, four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. That just cracks me up every time I read it (and as of this date, it’s still in the movie). I also love the Babel fish entry and how it proves the non-existence of God and I love all the Oolon Colluphid titles (
Where
God Went Wrong, Some More of
God’s Greatest Mistakes
and
Who Is This God Person, Anyway?
).
Mostly what I love are Douglas’s subtle word choices. He’s a wordsmith. There’s a line (I think this one is actually in
The
Restaurant at the End of the Universe
) that talks about someone being “nibbled to death by an okapi.” I crack up every time I hear it. The word “nibbled” is the first thing that gets me, and the fact that it is an okapi doing the nibbling is just icing on the cake.
In
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,
there’s a passage about the Vl’hurgs and their commander being “resplendent in his black jewelled battle shorts.” Black jewelled battle shorts? Who thinks up this sort of thing? I love it.
What was the hardest part about adapting the script?
One day, I found myself addressing a note from the studio to “clarify the concept of the Infinite Improbability Drive.” As if it was something that actually existed and thus needed clarification. And sadder still, I tried to clarify it and soon discovered how little I knew about laws of probability.
Actually, Garth and Nick and I spent an entire day sitting poolside at the Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles discussing the Infinite Improbability Drive and how to make more sense of it and better use of it as a plot-driving device. This was tough because what I always assumed about the IID was that it was basically a plot-contrivance machine. Writers are always struggling with contrived plots; the old “would this really happen?” problem. And I thought this was yet another stroke of brilliance from Douglas to create something that allows a finite probability to become an infinite improbability—all at the touch of a button. It’s a contrivance-justifier machine.
Each time we tried to clarify the IID, we’d look through the script and say, “It’s in there, isn’t it?” By lunch, we moved from coffee to wine and the IID concept was gaining clarity. By late afternoon, when we moved from wine to more wine, we had deduced that we were, in fact, brilliant and that the script was flawless. So we decided to go with the “less is more” theory and left the script alone. And then we had more wine.
What is the strangest note you received?
Garth Jennings (Hammer? Tongs? Your guess is as good as mine) sent me a note once that said, “When Zaphod first comes out of the temple and is approached by well-wishers, the banana alien on the mole-horse needs to replace the multi-headed groupie.”
You just don’t get notes like this every day.
You’ve established you can write for chickens, but can
you write for real people?
We’ll see. Fortunately there aren’t many “real people” in this movie.
Give it to us straight; is the movie in good hands?
Yes. Very. From the top down. Everyone has been very supportive. From Nina Jacobson and Dick Cook at Disney to Roger Birnbaum and Gary Barber, Jon Glickman, Derek Evans and all the folks at Spyglass to Jay Roach (now producing) to Robbie to the directors to the crew—everyone is just really excited about how unique and wonderful this film can be. This is one of those rare films where everyone seems to be on the same page. Even the agents! From Douglas’s long-time agent in London, Ed Victor, to his film agent in LA, Bob Bookman, who has seen this film through many an incarnation. I recently saw Ed at a party and he said to me three simple words that made my day, actually made my last two years. “You nailed it.” I could see the relief in his eyes because people like him have been waiting a long, long time for this to finally come to fruition.
Any last words?
I’ve recently returned from London where I spent two weeks rehearsing with the actors and making last-minute script tweaks (they were so great, so accommodating and so very enthusiastic about the material). I had to return home just before shooting started but have been told the first week was a blazing success.
I started knowing little about this wholly remarkable book and have become a devoted fan. In my dreams, everyone will be happy with it. I know this isn’t possible, but I feel really confident about the work we’re all doing.
Most importantly, I think Douglas would be pleased.
If he isn’t, may I be nibbled to death by an okapi.
Amendment to Interview with Self
So, Karey, now that filming on
The
Hitchhiker’s
Guide to
the
Galaxy
is complete, is there anything you’d like to
add about your thoughts and experiences during production?
Oh, I would love to, Karey. Thank you for asking. Actually, I can sum up my feelings about how the production went in three simple words.
I wasn’t there.
What?? Shocking!! A big-time Hollywood writer such as
you wasn’t allowed on set??? Do I smell scandal?
No, no, no. Nothing like that. Garth and Nick were happy to have me on set. And I was all set to come back to England mid-July, but my passport was refused by the British authorities. They said that since I have already been given some of the UK’s most valued titles to work with in motion pictures (
James and the
Giant Peach,
Aardman,
Thunderbirds
and now
Hitchhiker’s
) they figured the best way to keep me from getting my American tainted hands on any more treasured material is to keep me off the island.