John Carpenter's delightfully droll, dry, and deadpan debut theatrical feature relates the bleakly amusing story of a hapless spaceship crew -- mellow surfing enthusiast Lt. Doolittle (amiable Brian Narelle), gruff, belligerent Boiler (Dre Pahich), the remote and detached Talby (Cal Kuniholm), and the dim-witted Sgt. Pinback (an especially inspired performance by co-writer Dan O' Bannon) -- whose thankless mission is to float around the universe destroying unstable planets. The only problem is that after twenty years in the last great frontier these guys have become exceedingly coarse, hostile, and emotionally blank to the point where they are barely even human any more.
This often wickedly hilarious pitch-black comedy's key impressive achievement is the way it totally deromantizes the concept of space travel and reveals the drab mundane reality of drifting through various galaxies on a regular basis as basically just another soul-sucking and dehumanizing job that's just like working in the same dreary office for far too long. The amusing offbeat humor offers a wealth of genuinely clever and frequently sidesplitting moments: Pinback attempting to feed the cute, but crafty and aggressive alien mascot (said alien mascot is obviously nothing more than a beach-ball with claws!), Doolittle having a ridiculous philosophical debate with a neurotic talking bomb that's eager to blow up real good, Pinback's priceless bitter video diary, a sultry-voiced "female" computer who cheerfully warns the crew about assorted impending dangers, the deceased frozen captain dishing out advice in a whiny tone, and Doolittle using a piece of spaceship debris as a makeshift surfboard in the gloriously trippy closing shot. This grimly absurdist sensibility in turn gives the picture a feeling of remarkable peculiarity that comes across as quite natural, unforced, and ultimately endearing. The irreverence at work throughout acquires additional kooky charm and substantial impact for being presented in an admirably low-key and subtle manner. Moreover, Carpenter manages to create sequences of exceptional nerve-wracking tension amid all the rampant tomfoolery; the set piece with Pinback trapped in the elevator shaft is really harrowing at times. Douglas Knapp's cinematography makes the most out of the cramped, confined, and claustrophobic sets. Carpenter's shivery synthesizer score likewise does the trick. The twangy country song "Benson Arizona" is extremely catchy and used perfectly at the very end. The special effects are surprisingly good considering the paltry budget. Granted, the acting is pretty rough around the edges, but it works in the context of the film. A pleasingly different and distinctive one-of-a-kind treat.
This often wickedly hilarious pitch-black comedy's key impressive achievement is the way it totally deromantizes the concept of space travel and reveals the drab mundane reality of drifting through various galaxies on a regular basis as basically just another soul-sucking and dehumanizing job that's just like working in the same dreary office for far too long. The amusing offbeat humor offers a wealth of genuinely clever and frequently sidesplitting moments: Pinback attempting to feed the cute, but crafty and aggressive alien mascot (said alien mascot is obviously nothing more than a beach-ball with claws!), Doolittle having a ridiculous philosophical debate with a neurotic talking bomb that's eager to blow up real good, Pinback's priceless bitter video diary, a sultry-voiced "female" computer who cheerfully warns the crew about assorted impending dangers, the deceased frozen captain dishing out advice in a whiny tone, and Doolittle using a piece of spaceship debris as a makeshift surfboard in the gloriously trippy closing shot. This grimly absurdist sensibility in turn gives the picture a feeling of remarkable peculiarity that comes across as quite natural, unforced, and ultimately endearing. The irreverence at work throughout acquires additional kooky charm and substantial impact for being presented in an admirably low-key and subtle manner. Moreover, Carpenter manages to create sequences of exceptional nerve-wracking tension amid all the rampant tomfoolery; the set piece with Pinback trapped in the elevator shaft is really harrowing at times. Douglas Knapp's cinematography makes the most out of the cramped, confined, and claustrophobic sets. Carpenter's shivery synthesizer score likewise does the trick. The twangy country song "Benson Arizona" is extremely catchy and used perfectly at the very end. The special effects are surprisingly good considering the paltry budget. Granted, the acting is pretty rough around the edges, but it works in the context of the film. A pleasingly different and distinctive one-of-a-kind treat.