The first season of Red Dwarf premiered early in 1988 on BBC2, and it was a revelation - a buddy comedy that just happened to be set in deep space. While some sitcoms have used SF as a setting successfully (Quark) and less than successfully (the later UPN flop Homeboys In Outer Space), Red Dwarf was the first to hit the nail on the head, balancing the SF elements and some masterful character comedy. If not for Red Dwarf, it's doubtful that more recent entities like Lexx would exist.

The End sets a tone that is both bizarrely fatalistic and fall-down funny as interplanterary slob Dave Lister (the underappreciated Craig Charles) becomes, through a series of unusual circumstances largely beyond his control, the last human being alive. Sentenced to imprisonment by stasis, Lister is spared the hideous death that befalls the officers, crew and miners aboard the scavenging deep space mining ship Red Dwarf. With no one at the helm - and no one to release Lister from stasis - the ship drifts aimlessly out of the solar system and into deep space. For three million years. When Dave Lister is awakened by senile ship's computer Holly (Norman Lovett, an unsung hero of this show if indeed it has one), contact has been lost with Earth, and the only company he has consists of Holly, a smartly-dressed (but not otherwise terribly smart) biped evolved from Lister's pregnant cat (who was hidden away in Red Dwarf's hold during the disaster that killed the crew), and...Rimmer.

The first season deals somewhat unevenly with time travel (the wonderful Future Echoes, which brings the problem of even so much as comprehending temporal anomalies down to your average bloke's level), the evolution of Cat's species in the absence of any outside influence, and the uneasy pecking order problems that arise from the simple fact that no one on the Dwarf has any real leadership potential. Sure, Rimmer (Chris Barrie) has the uniform, but he's essentially a uniformed janitor - and he's the computer-revived hologram of Lister's dead bunkmate, so no hope there. Cat (Danny John-Jules, who recently played a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo in Blade II) is much more concerned with finding shiny things and figuring out how to milk the ship's food dispensers for an infinite supply of fish dinners. And Lister, realistically enough, alternates between the freedom of having no one to tell him what to do and mourning the lost human race (particularly navigation officer Kochanski, played in flashback in these early episodes by the incredibly cute and, dare I say it, infinitely boink-ably cute C.P. Grogan).

Sure, the production values and laughable - not even a product of the BBC's Drama department, which was at the same time lavishing Doctor Who's 25th season with a reasonably high budget, Red Dwarf emerged from the same BBC Light Drama department that gave us Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Sure, the actors and writers are still finding their feet. And sure, the vast leaps of later seasons' effects and character development are missing. But, in much the same way that Blake's 7 did ten years before it, Red Dwarf makes itself endearing through its character interactions and sharp dialogue. Add to that the amazingly well-executed addition of conceptual science fiction that crept in during season two, and you've got one of my all-time favorite SF shows, period. I'm more attached to Red Dwarf than I am to Star Trek: Voyager; it's almost on a level with Babylon 5 in my affections.

Aside from the six nicely-transferred episodes, the gold of the first disc is the running commentary across the entire season provided by Craig Charles, Chris Barrie, Danny John-Jules and Norman Lovett. The premiere episode features a somewhat dry moderated commentary with Rob Grant and Doug Naylor, but the three hours spent with the show's stars are three hours well spent. They reflect on getting the parts, getting the giggles, getting chewed out by hard-nosed producer Paul Jackson, and getting rather amazingly drunk after a day in the studio (and still having to get up and do it all again the next day). The guest stars, the sets, and the occasionally not-so-special effects are topics of conversation, as are the first season's very 80s hairstyles. The proceedings are frequently interrupted by Craig's peals of hysterical laughter, everybody's cell phones ringing, and ribald laughter at the expense of co-star Mac MacDonald (who plays the Dwarf's rotund, ill-fated captain).

Disc two features an in-depth documentary about the show's origins, featuring all four of the principal actors plus Grant, Naylor and Paul Jackson, with the focus being on the writers' repeated attempts to pitch Red Dwarf to the BBC (the first scripts were actually written in 1983, and the writers reveal the movie Dark Star to be a key influence), and casting the show once the production was given a green light. Disc two also features a Japanese dub of the first episode, which is particularly amusing. (This is the only time that any of the "remastered" episodes rear their head in this set, since the BBC exported the CGI-revised versions of the episodes to Japan.) There are also bloopers, deleted scenes (many of which are simply miserable viewing, but are worth watching simply because some of the dropped material is referenced in the actors' commentary) and a hilarious compilation of the many "drunk" scenes set to the tune of Chumbawumba's Tubthumping. (It remains to be seen if this music video will survive to the Region 1 version of this set, due in February 2003, what with the tangled copyright web that's likely to be woven around the use of that song - I sincerely hope it does.) There are also two lengthy excerpts from the audiobook of the first Red Dwarf novel, beautifully read by Chris Barrie, who proves that he's adept at vocally imitating all of his fellow cast members to a frighteningly perfect degree.

One of my favorite features of the Red Dwarf season 1 DVD set is the isolated music score. Staple BBC comedy composer Howard Goodall (Thin Blue Line, Black Adder, The Vicar Of Dibley) is a master of knowing just what kind of sound his latest series assignment needs, but never has he hit it so spot-on as he did with Red Dwarf, especially in the series' first two seasons. The somber, serious mix of low, menacing brass, lonely solo trumpet, and the odd dash of synthesizers or electric guitar unified the sound of all the music cues, and yet could be used in almost any combination. The result sounds more like SF than situation comedy. A Red Dwarf soundtrack CD was actually planned at one point in the 1990s, when the show peaked in popularity and had plenty of material behind it, but a scandal involving rape accusations against star Craig Charles (later thrown out by the courts) dampened enthusiasm for the show both among viewers and the BBC itself, and the CD was buried. This, however, is even better - all the music, by itself. Pure bliss - even the Rastabilly Skank.

The menus are lovingly recreated CGI renditions of the show's cheap early sets, with the Red Dwarf drive room serving as the main menu. The episodes are found in the stasis booths, the extras are located in Lister and Rimmer's bunkroom, and animated skutters wander around the ship until you make a selection. (In a nice touch, activating the bloopers even brings the bunkroom toilet into view.) All in all, it's amazingly well thought-out and assembled - and I can't wait for the next set.

Reviewed by Earl Green
theLogBook.com webmaster / editor-in-chief