A good time had around the Galaxy
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights

What is the meaning of life? The nebulous answer is 42, according to A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but like an interstellar game of Jeopardy, the tricky part is finding the right question.

The film adaptation of Douglas Adams's classic sci-fi novel begins with a bang, but loses momentum as its superb cast aimlessly bounces around the galaxy.

The initial bang is the Earth's destruction, vaporized by the alien Vogons in order to build an intergalactic freeway. Fortunately for Arthur Dent, played by Martin Freeman from the BBC's The Office, he is saved by Ford Prefect, an alien disguised as a human in order to do research on Earth for additional entries in the interplanetary best seller A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Mos Def proves himself a phenomenal actor starring as Prefect, with subtle wit, quirky facial expressions, and impeccable timing. The first 20 minutes of the film, in which Dent and Prefect escape impending doom by hitching a ride with one of the spaceships that just destroyed Earth, are exciting, engaging, and hilarious. From here the film falls a bit flat, wandering around the galaxy in pursuit of plot lines.

The story is saved by an eclectic cast of quirky characters from around the universe. John Malkovich makes a quick appearance as preacher Humma Kavula. Sam Rockwell (Confessions of a Dangerous Mind) gives a hilarious performance as galaxy president Zaphod Beeblebrox, with two heads and half a brain.

Beeblebrox's smug smirk, country drawl, and dim wits might remind viewers of a certain real-life president, but Beeblebrox doesn't wield any real power. He's just a political diversion for the expansionist, bureaucratic Vogons, who actually run the universe.

The film's humorous banter is enough to keep the movie fun as the hitchhikers jump from ship to ship in pursuit of a supercomputer (voiced by Helen Mirren) built by the ancient Magratheans that has spent the last 7.5 million years coming up with the answer that explains "life, the universe, and everything." To everyone's frustration, it finally offers "42" as the answer, leaving the hitchhikers back on the road again in pursuit of the question.

It's hard to say who will enjoy Hitchhiker more, the die-hard fan or the first-time hitchhiker. Those who read Adams's 1979 novel and its four sequels, listened to the late '70s radio series, watched the 1981 BBC miniseries, played the 1984 videogame, or read the early-'90s DC comics, will inevitably appreciate subtle references but complain about various inaccuracies.

The film is probably easier to enjoy for those outside the cult, because the film's real charm isn't the quasi-philosophy of the books, but the eccentric acting and wonderful visual effects.

Director Garth Jennings and screenwriter Karey Kirkpatrick, who revised the script that Adams nearly completed before his death in 2001, deserve praise for resisting the temptation to turn the film into an orgy of special effects.

Instead, Jennings hired Jim Henson to do the pupeteering for the Vogons, and Marvin the Paranoid Android actually has Warwick Davis inside the robot costume. The simple visual effects complement the quirky humor of the cast.

The most important thing for any hitchhiker to remember, according to the cover of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, is "Don't Panic!"

There are parts of the film that will tempt viewers to wish they had left the book as it was, but don't panic, because the superb acting and visual fun make for a great ride.

Tupac Shakur narrates thug life from the grave
By Canyon Cody
Originally published in The Heights

Las Vegas. Sept. 7, 1996. One dead. No suspects.

While the rest of the world argues over Tupac Shakur's life and death, a new film by director Lauren Lazin allows Tupac himself to explain the tragedy. Uncharacteristically, he apparently has little to say.

"I got shot."

Tupac's unsettling tendency to speak about himself in the past tense, along with his disposition towards self-prophesy, allowed Lazin to use the deceased artist as the narrator in her film Tupac: Resurrection. "This is my story, a story about ambition, violence, redemption, and love," Tupac explains.

Viewed as a documentary, the film has many flaws. The cut and paste method of putting together audio snippets in an effort to make a cohesive narration fails at certain points and begs serious questions about journalistic integrity. The film should instead be enjoyed as another opportunity to appreciate firsthand Tupac's charismatic presence and surprising humor.

The movie follows the chronological path of Tupac's surreal development from a dorky teenager enrolled in the Baltimore School of the Performing Arts, where he studied acting and ballet, to a homeless street hustler with a mother addicted to crack, to the best selling rap artist of all time involved in a deadly feud with another hip-hop legend, to getting shot five times and then convicted of sexual abuse the next day.

Both socially conscious and unabashedly irreverent, Tupac's legacy will forever be defined by contradiction. Nowhere is his hypocrisy more acute than in his depiction of women; he defines himself as a feminist yet demonstrates himself as a misogynist, often in the same breath. The film affords Tupac the opportunity to explain himself, often first admitting his own weaknesses and then going on to prove himself not a contradiction, but a paradox.

The film does not shy away from Tupac's many flaws and offers a relatively balanced portrayal that avoids the expected hagiography. Surprisingly, Tupac seems to be the only one who managed to avoid exaggerating his own importance. He accepted his own limitations and admitted his weakness, yet also realized his profound influence. "I may not change the world," he said, "but I will set the spark off in the mind that does."

At its best, the movie offers Tupac the chance to speak uninterruptedly to the audience. His greatest gift was his profound insight into the plight of the poor in America. He narrates, "I did not create thug life; I diagnosed it ... I don't understand why America doesn't understand thug life. What makes my freedom less worth fighting for than Bosnians or whoever [America] wants to fight for this year?"

Tupac carried the torch of the Black Panthers into the new century, teaching young black men to be proud and proactive after being frustrated with begging for an illusionary equality that white America, from Tupac's perspective, never intended to grant.