How can an 80's, low budget TV show be better than the huge budget blockbuster movie?

Garth Jennings has managed to come up with the answer.

I've been a great fan of Hitch Hikers' for many years, ever since I saw the original TV series way back in '81 at the tender age of eight, I loved it - the anarchic energy, the quirky quasi-sci-fi, the cool animations, the wonderful story and the concept - a book that tells you everything you need to know about the galaxy, not in the usual staid, dusty way, but in that friendly fashion that all text books should be written in.

After that, and a small delay while I actually hunted down the books and grew old enough to appreciate them, I sucked down all four novels with a straw, immersing myself totally within a universe where you were cool if you knew where your towel was. I knew it all stemmed from a Radio show, but I never thought I'd get to hear it.

Then I heard that Douglas Adams was going to make a movie of it. Cool.

And I waited (this is pre-internet, so my only source of information was what got passed down through the general grapevine, and in Q magazine or 2000ad).

Then he dropped dead. It was a cruel blow for humanity when DNA's heart gave out. A true literary genius passed away and I mourned...quietly.

But the movie got made anyway. I waited with baited breath for every new development - who was writing it? What were his credentials? How much of DNA's vision would be in the movie and when would it be finished?

Unfortunately, gout, birthdays, phone bills and other unfortunate drains on the wallet meant that I missed it at the Cinema, so, vowing to buy the DVD, I downloaded it over the weekend. I had been determined not to download it, in a show of loyalty to one of my favourite stories and people, but it wasn't to be and I very reluctantly clicked on the bittorrent link.

So last night, we piped it through our DVD card and settled down to watch one of the funniest creations ever - or so I wished it had been.

What we actually watched was a mishmash of recognisable scenes intercut with some truly dreadful moments. I'll mention Humma Cavula and the Vogon homeworld as prime examples of the latter and The Book, Arthur and Slartibartfast for the former.

The movie suffers - was always going to suffer - on a number of points:

1) The writer oversaw, produced, directed, scripted and appeared in the '81 miniseries.

2) The actors who starred in the '81 miniseries (with the exception of Sandra Dickinson and David Dixon) were the people Douglas Adams wrote the characters for. Arthur Dent is Simon Jones, Mark Wing Davey is Zaphod Beeblebrox, Peter Jones is the voice of the Book. That's who Douglas Adams had in mind when he wrote the radio play and that's who came to the small screen to make the miniseries.

No-one will be able to top that crappy little miniseries in my book, because that and the radio series is the purest, least diluted form of DNA's actual live vision of the story.

Which is a shame because the crew of the movie really try hard but it just doesn't make it. The movie is a poor imitation of the wonderful universe through which DNA takes us with nothing but a book, a towel and a craving for tea.

I seriously wanted to like this film, seriously, but I just can't do it.

I'm not criticising any one thing - Mos Def is great aas the otherworldly Ford Prefect. I can cope with a black Ford. Considering how Ford Prefect arrived at his nom de voyage, casting a black actor could be construed as a subtle nod to the bad research - "any colour as long as it's black" y'see?

Sam Rockwell gets Zaphod completely wrong. Zaphod is actually a character with a lot of pathos - and intelligence. He operated on his own brain in order to sneak past rigorous checks and meet the man who actually runs the galaxy - and he achieves this goal in the novels. He's not a dickhead stoner who can be sobered up by using his head to make fruit juice.

And Arthur does get the girl, but it ain't Trillian.

All in all, I will probably watch the movie over and over, just like I read the books and watch the miniseries over and over, just like I'll listen to the radio series when I eventually invest in an MP3 jukebox, but despite that, I cannot escape the overwhelming sensation that too much is missing.

And there's more to come. Which might be good, might be bad. I am open to being impressed next time. Whatever happens, you can consider my table booked at Milliways.