‘There are cakes over there . . .’ ‘Never cut Funny,’ says Joseph Bologna’s character in Mel Brooks’ 1982 film, My Favorite Year . ‘There are cakes . . .’ was a very apposite studio ad-lib by Toby Longworth which I at first edited out in a spirit of rigid adherence to Douglas’s legacy. I then edited it back in again. On reflection, it fitted the Hitchhiker’s style, and was Funny.
When one is lucky enough to work with really gifted actors a performance that evolves out of a common understanding of the piece is one’s aim, but if it is further informed by a sense of Fun, that’s gold dust. Genuine Fun, like the ozone layer, appears to be in increasingly short supply.
Arthur stranded on prehistoric Earth/Zaphod’s dream
There was much confusion at how this first episode of the Tertiary Phase failed to follow on in any salient respect from the end of the Secondary Phase. At the last known point in the radio narrative Arthur had stolen the Heart of Gold, stranding Ford, Zaphod and Zarniwoop in the Shack with the Man and His Cat.
When we discussed these new series in 1993 Douglas shrugged off this problem; it was history for him and if it led to consternation among Hitchhiker fans, too bad. The discontinuity between the radio series and the novels was unfortunate but necessary, Douglas having had a re-ordering of events in the process of novelization. He wasn’t deliberately seeking to confound, but anxious to polish and refine and make the story his own, even at the expense of reworking or ditching material that had already been broadcast.
Ten years later, I was still bound to the chronology of the novels but by now the first and second radio series (complete with hanging resolution) had attained iconic status. Not only were lines of dialogue quoted in almost every context possible (particularly on the Internet, hardly a presence in 1993), but whole Hitchhiker scenarios had become cultural reference points. I did not have Douglas’s right as Creator to ignore the chasm between the stories, but on the other hand he was no longer around to consult further on the issue. In the long term I would need to square the circle, but in order to get on with the complexities of the Tertiary Phase, events in the second radio series would need – temporarily for now – to be rendered incidental. It was either that or I should invent something to bridge the gap. This I did not want to do without Douglas available to rework material himself. My first rule of adaptation was not to invent where at all possible; certainly not where Douglas had buried any kind of storyline which I could retrieve. So what clues had he furnished which I could use?
In Episode One of the Secondary Phase a troubled Zaphod Beeblebrox (through whose eyes we witness most of its events) visits the Hitchhiker’s Guide building to prove a conspiracy theory centred upon a certain Zarniwoop, who has built a virtualreality universe in his office. Once Zaphod is in the building (and presumably in Zarniwoop’s domain) it is debatable whether any series-two events are taking place in the real universe at all, including Arthur stealing the Heart of Gold, the Man in the Shack, the Lintilla Clones and the Shoe Event Horizon.
Considered in retrospect, series two could be Zaphod’s hallucination, brought on by too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, or Zaphod’s immersion in the Total Perspective Vortex. Or perhaps it was entirely experienced inside the Virtual Universe created by the somewhat sinister Zarniwoop. Although a detailed answer to this conundrum could not be explored in the Tertiary Phase, which had imperatives of its own, the puzzle they outlined temporarily bridged our credibility gap. It also gave me something to turn completely upside down, Douglas-fashion, in the Quintessential Phase. (I hope you’re following this. I’m game to continue if you are. You are? OK.)
Conveniently for this theory Trillian was unexplainedly absent for the entirety of the Secondary Phase, so the quickest way to put the problem on ‘hold’ was for her to suggest that the entire Phase was the result of a profound extra-reality trip experienced by Zaphod alone. This incidentally helped ease through a pivotal moment in the saga, becoming one of the final straws that make Trillian’s decision to leave him more understandable. He’s drunk, unreasonable, egocentric and he makes up wild stories that don’t stack up. He is one mixed up, infuriating, substance-abusing two-headed dude.
Trillian at last escapes the shadow cast by Zaphod’s ego to gain a new confidence in herself. This confidence will be vital for the future of both the Universe and of Arthur Dent, and will play out over the remaining fourteen episodes, the last four of which will return to the puzzle of what happened to series two and – combining Douglas’s logic with the story threads in Mostly Harmless – suddenly make it of vital importance to the entire saga.
Zaphod steals the Heart of Gold In post-production I realized that our first encounter with Zaphod was a rather downbeat and sad affair, not depicting the fun-loving adventurer we met in previous series. Thus in a form of flashback I used some out-takes to ‘build’ the events surrounding the theft of the Heart of Gold, and hopefully establish his swashbuckling credentials.
Allosimanus Syneca In the book, Douglas wrote Allosimanius Syneca, but when he read it for the audiobook he said Allosimanus, so we took his cue here.
Marvin and Zem This scene took a couple of days to record. On the first day Stephen was so pleased to be back with the ‘old gang’ that on listening back I was worried Marvin was sounding a bit too cheerful, and getting Andy Taylor’s wonderful Zem the Mattress characterization to sound more ingenuous than simple took some experimentation. We finally hit the right stride on day two of recording, adding treatments ‘on the fly’ to Stephen’s voice. Finding the Marvin effect was itself a challenge; such is the rate of obsolescence in studio gear that the harmonizer originally used is now a museum piece, and we had to find a similar treatment using a newer bit of outboard gear that has hundreds of pre-programmed settings, each one identified with a number. As Paul Deeley dialled each one in we listened to Stephen’s voice, until finally Marvin’s voice popped out of the speakers. ‘What’s the programme number?’ I asked, ready to scribble it down. ‘You won’t believe this,’ replied Paul. ‘Forty-two.’
Incidentally, the scenes in which Marvin appeared were recorded in a more linear fashion than those in the original series in the late 1970s, when Stephen was recorded away from the other actors and had his voice treated and spliced in (using razor blade and sticky tape) afterwards. Geoffrey Perkins did an amazing job with preserving the comic timing but it would have been a nightmare to direct and occasionally – in reverby (echoey) acoustics – the cuts are hard to mask. This time around we treated Stephen ‘live’ and channelled his voice through a small loudspeaker that was carried around the stereo microphone to interact with the rest of the cast as they moved around in the scene. It meant they could perform off each other in real time, bouncing lines and getting timings for gags on the spot.
Zem’s squelching in the swamp was Ken Humphrey up to his elbows in a washingup bowl of soggy papier mâché. This stood around the studio ripening for several days until it really did smell of swamp – or maybe that was Ken . . .
Closing scene (extended version only) This self-dialogue of Zaphod’s is not in Life, the Universe and Everything; it was a thought by Ford in Chapter Five of the original first novel and my attempt to try and include as much unheard-on-radio Douglas material as possible. In fact Chapter Five of the first novel also provided the description of Vogons used at the start of the Quandary Phase Episode One; this is the joy of being able to go back and dig out stuff which Douglas added after the original radio series was done and dusted.
EPISODE TWO
SIGNATURE TUNE
ANNOUNCER: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, Tertiary Phase.
INT. – THE BOOK AMBIENCE
FX: Melee of exotic sounds. Falling down a tunnel swirly texture as in Episode One where Arthur and Ford are travelling through time. Lots of surround panning.
ARTHUR/FORD PREFECT: Whooooaaaaaaaaaaa . . . . . . . . . . .
ARTHUR: (Dialogue from the Primary Phase) Ford, I don’t know if thi
s sounds like a silly question, but what am I doing here?
FORD PREFECT: Well, you know that. I rescued you from the Earth.
THE VOICE: One of the many problems encountered in time travel is quite simply one of grammar, which is further complicated by the possibility of conducting conversations whilst you’re actually travelling from one time to another.
FX: In the background Vogon constructor fleets are heard calmly destroying entire solar systems, trying to keep their hyperspace bypass on schedule.
ARTHUR: What is it?
FORD PREFECT: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It’s an electronic book, which will tell you everything you want to know.
ARTHUR: I like the cover. ‘Don’t Panic’.
FORD PREFECT: You’ll need to have this fish in your ear.
ARTHUR: I beg your pardon?
VOGON: People of Aparoon, this is Prostetnic Vogon Kutz . . .
SECOND VOGON: People of Regulo 7. This is Prostetnic Vogon Yang . . .
ARTHUR: And what has happened to the Earth?
PROSTETNIC VOGON JELTZ: People of Earth. This is Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz of the Galactic Hyperspace Planning Council . . .
FORD PREFECT: It’s been . . . disintegrated.
PROSTETNIC VOGON JELTZ: . . . your planet is scheduled for demolition.
FX: Earth explodes, rather offhandedly.
ARTHUR: So what do I do?
FORD PREFECT: Well, you come along with me and enjoy yourself.
INT. – THE BOOK AMBIENCE
THE VOICE: The Encyclopaedia Galactica has much to say on the theory and practice of time travel, most of which is incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t spent at least four lifetimes studying advanced hypermathematics, and since it was impossible to do this before time travel was invented, there is a certain amount of confusion as to how the idea was arrived at in the first place.
The most plausible rationalization states that time travel was, by its very nature, discovered simultaneously at all periods of history. But this is clearly bunk. The trouble is that quite a lot of history is clearly bunk, the realization of which led to the immediate formation of the Campaign for Real Time. It was during its inaugural strategy meeting and coffee morning – at which it was formally agreed a real time was being had by all – that the news broke that not only had the great Cathedral of Chalesm been pulled down in order to build a new negative-ion refinery, but that the construction of the refinery had taken so long, and had had to extend so far back into the past in order to allow negative-ion production to start on time, that the Cathedral of Chalesm had now never been built in the first place. Picture postcards of the cathedral suddenly became immensely valuable. And blank. Which is why – as a result of time travel – much of history is now gone for ever. In a footnote, the Campaign for Real Timers explain that just as easy travel eroded the differences between one country and another, and between one world and another, so time travel is now eroding the differences between one age and another. ‘The past,’ they say, ‘is now truly like a foreign country. They do things exactly the same there.’
EXT. – LORD’S CRICKET GROUND
FX: Sound of two humanoid life forms on a paisley-covered chesterfield sofa crashing heavily down at silly mid-on.
ARTHUR/FORD: Aaaaaaaaaah – Ooof! . . . Ooof!
FORD PREFECT: (Urgent whisper) Watch out!
FX: Crack of leather on willow, and then a whizzing noise.
ARTHUR: What was that?
FORD PREFECT: Something red!
FX: Applause, actuality of a cricket match around them.
HENRY BLOFELD: (Distorted, heard faintly on someone’s radio) No, it goes straight past Foster at silly mid-on, and –
INT. – LORD’S CRICKET GROUND – COMMENTARY BOX
HENRY BLOFELD: (cont’d) – over the boundary for four lovely runs. And now England need just twenty-eight to win the final test on this near-perfect day at Lord’s. Holden returning the ball and, Fred, my dear old thing, what on earth is that?
FRED TRUEMAN: It looks like two men and a chesterfield sofa. Can anybody tell me what is going off? Henry, I don’t know!
FX: They fade out for the moment, under . . .
EXT. – LORD’S CRICKET GROUND – THE PITCH
(Ford and Arthur are speaking to each other in urgent, frightened whispers)
ARTHUR: Where are we?
FORD PREFECT: Somewhere green!
ARTHUR: Shapes! I need shapes!
POLICEMAN: (Approaching) Excuse me, sir, is this your sofa?
FORD PREFECT: What was that?
ARTHUR: Something blue!
FORD PREFECT: Shape!
ARTHUR: It is blue-shaped . . . like a policeman!
POLICEMAN: Come along, you two, let’s be having you.
POLICEMAN’S WALKIE-TALKIE: (Distorted) Three to control. We have a man seems to have had a heart attack at the Nursery End. St John’s Ambulance in attendance, over?
ARTHUR: Ford, if I didn’t know I was going mad, I’d say this place looks astoundingly, terrifyingly, horrifically like Lord’s Cricket Ground!
UMPIRE: (Background, testily) Can we clear the pitch, please, officer?
POLICEMAN: Very astute of you, sir.
ARTHUR: (Starts to hyperventilate hysterically) Agh! It is a policeman, Ford! There’s always a policeman at Lord’s! What are we going to do?
FORD PREFECT: (Laconically) What do you want to do? Get a beer?
ARTHUR: I want to hear you say I’ve been dreaming for the past five years!
FORD PREFECT: (Obligingly) You’ve been dreaming for the past five years.
POLICEMAN: (Firmly) Come along now.
FORD PREFECT: (Without qualifying adverb) All right; four and three-quarters.
POLICEMAN’S WALKIE-TALKIE: (Under) (Distorted) Three to control, casualty’s name is Deodat, history of heart trouble, get ’em to hurry, looks dodgy . . .
ARTHUR: (More calmly) It’s all right, officer. This is all a dream. Ask him. He was in it.
POLICEMAN: Dreaming, eh? Account for the dressing gown, would it?
ARTHUR: (Reasonably . . .) Oh no, the dressing gown’s just a hallucination, you see. It’s what I was wearing when the Earth was demolished to— Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! I’ve got a bone in my beard! Ugh! I’ve got a beard! Ugh! Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll be the one over there passing out. How about that? Good idea?
FX: Belated thump as he passes out, under:
FORD PREFECT: (Terse, businesslike) Officer, my name is Ford Prefect. I was born six hundred light years from Earth, near Betelgeuse. I am a researcher for The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
POLICEMAN: (Not again) Bit old for student pranks, aren’t we, sir?
FORD PREFECT: That is Arthur Dent. He’s from Earth but has been stranded in your prehistoric era for a while.
POLICEMAN: (Getting too confused to bother) Yes, well . . . (Moves off) Just don’t let it happen again . . .
INT. – LORD’S CRICKET GROUND – COMMENTARY BOX
FRED TRUEMAN: Well, Henry, I don’t think there have been any strange things appearing on the pitch since—
HENRY BLOFELD: It was in 1932, Fred.
FRED TRUEMAN: Ah! Now what happened then?
HENRY BLOFELD: Well, Fred, I think it was Canter facing Willcox, coming up to bowl from the pavilion end, when a spectator suddenly ran straight across the pitch.
FRED TRUEMAN: There’s nothing actually very mysterious about that, is there?
HENRY BLOFELD: No, but he did claim to have seen something materialize at silly mid-on. An alligator of some kind, if you can believe it. But no one was able to get a very detailed description. They offered to give him some lunch, but he explained that he’d already had rather a good one. So the matter was dropped. And Warwickshire went on to win by three wickets!
FRED TRUEMAN: So not very like this at all, then.
HENRY BLOFELD: No . . . Er – for those of you who’ve just tuned in, by the way, two men, two rather scruffily attired men, and inde
ed a sofa – a chesterfield, I think – have just materialized here in the middle of Lord’s Cricket Ground.
FRED TRUEMAN: They’re carrying it off now.
HENRY BLOFELD: Actually, can I interrupt you a moment, Fred, and say that the sofa has just vanished?
FRED TRUEMAN: So it has! Well, that’s one mystery less. So, England now only need twenty-four runs to win the Ashes, and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like that at cover point before. Except perhaps against the West Indies . . . (Fade)
INT. – LORD’S CRICKET GROUND – TEA TENT
FX: Background hubbub. Distant cricket match. Ford and Arthur sipping real tea.
FORD PREFECT: How’re you feeling?
ARTHUR: (Dazed but happy) I’m home! It’s England. It’s today. I’m (Takes sip) drinking tea in the tea tent at Lord’s. The long nightmare is over! Why are you looking at me like that?
FORD PREFECT: Just . . .
ARTHUR: Listen, Ford, it’s over! I’m finally where I belong. Nothing you can say or do—
FORD PREFECT: OK! OK! Thought you might like to look at the newspaper, that’s all.
ARTHUR: No thanks. I’ve read that one. (Pause while this sinks in) Er . . . wait a minute.
FX: Newspaper grabbed by a desperate ape-descended life form whose sanity hangs by a rapidly fraying thread.
FORD PREFECT: Not a word.
ARTHUR: Wait a minute! How can this be today’s? I saw this years ago! The day before –
FORD PREFECT: That’s right.
ARTHUR:– the Earth was demolished!
FORD PREFECT: Yup.
ARTHUR: So that means the Earth is going to get demolished . . . Tomorrow!
FORD PREFECT: I think you’re finally getting the hang of time travel.
ARTHUR: (Long despairing sigh) I don’t think I can bear it again. (Pause) Wait a minute!
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Further Radio Scripts Page 5
