There was a cheapo BBC series based on it. Much beloved.

WORD that. Got the video, read ALL the books, was at one time the most obnoxious of fangirls...I'm unfortunately of the probable minority who greeted news of the new movie by covering my ears and shrieking, "You can't make me, you can't make me!" Or as I commented to me fren Tek, "I'm a David Dixon purist. No slam on Mos Def, but that Ford is not a Ford to me." (Of course, I also told me fren Deb that, "With Sam Rockwell I can forgive a LOT," so clearly my loyalties practically turn on a dime.)

To further quote things I said to other people, though, I now regard seeing That Movie like I do my upcoming probable dental surgery and later-upcoming birthday: something I would dearly love to avoid, but will have to deal with at some point or another. (Just remember, this is from a girl who circa age 22 professed her ultimate goal in life was to marry Douglas Adams. Of course, after reading his bio Hitchiker last year, I can only relate how grateful I am now not to have realized such girlish aspirations. A genius? Yes, probably. But someone I could tolerate on a daily basis? Sadly, no.)

Still, I can barely tolerate *myself* on a daily basis, so no real slam on Doug there.