Why Is Red Dwarf So Bloody Good?..in case you didn’t know.

This is something i wrote to attempt to re-educate the masses….

As well as the all-important strength of the characters, one of the chief things that makes Red Dwarf so phenomenal is that it’s unique. While it draws on both science fiction and comedy traditions, the resulting combination is an entirely fresh take on both fields.

Although Red Dwarf is unmistakably science fiction, it’s very different from most science fiction programmes. For a start, it’s light years away from the American big-budget slick dramas such as the Star Trek series and “Babylon 5”. Things are broken down, supplies are short, the android’s a toilet attendant and the computer controlling the whole shebang has an advanced case of senility. Furthermore, instead of a crack crew of space adventurers, Red Dwarf has a crew terminally technologically baffled, with enough character flaws to keep a psychiatrist in mink-upholstered Porsche Carreras.

Okay, generally speaking British programmes are different from American ones on this level anyway, but Red Dwarf also distinguishes itself from other British science fiction: while sometimes affectionate tributes to its predecessors can be spotted, Red Dwarf steers clear from direct parody. Although the budget is limited, the show nevertheless has a credible look, particularly in later series, and avoids the “Blake’s 7” example of what horror can result on a constrained budget.

While science fiction is half of the Red Dwarf equation, comedy, is, of course, the other half. Red Dwarf is grounded in the splendid British tradition of an all-male ensemble of eccentrics and losers, past examples of this including “Dad’s Army”, “Porridge”, “It Ain’t Half Hot Mum” and “Only Fools and Horses”. While a lot of Red Dwarf’s humour is character-based, some of it also draws from the English tradition of situation-based sight gags and broad gross-out humour.

The balance between science fiction and comedy and also between character-driven and situation-driven humour changes over the series: series I to IV are tilted in favour of comedy over the science fiction side of things, and the humour is very much character-driven. In series V, the balance tips slightly more towards science fiction, but the humour stays in the main firmly based in the characters. In series VI, the show tilts a little more towards science fiction, and the humour shifts in emphasis towards situation-based and sight gags.

Science fiction and comedy is a risky combination, which is probably why science fiction comedies are as rare as the Anatolian lesser spotted mongoose. The only other show even remotely like Red Dwarf is the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” series, and because the humour in that series tends to be situation based rather than character driven, it doesn’t come anywhere near the calibre of Red Dwarf.

Red Dwarf takes the normally mutually exclusive concepts of science fiction and humour and melds them together brilliantly. The programme succeeds for many reasons: the avoidance of direct parody keeps it fresh; original ideas continue to be explored, which makes it consistently interesting; some serious concepts are examined amongst the light relief, which gives the thing some depth. And most important of all, the strong character development paves the way not only for seriously hilarious humour but also for a darker underside which lifts the programme way out of the category of ordinary situation comedy.

WHY IS RED DWARF FUNNY?
One of the strengths of the show is that the humour’s not all based on one premise: it comes from a number of places.
Setting: The situation of the characters, light years away from Earth in the bit of space God forgot, is inherently funny, which gives the thing a head start. In addition, the SF setting gives Grant Naylor scope to let their imaginations off the lead and allows them to explore concepts, such as a backward universe, which are somewhat beyond the scope of the average situation comedy. It also allows them to pursue the universal obsession of SF nuts and fiddle with the time stream.

The setting is sufficiently flexible to allow virtually any concept to be dragged in with impunity: “Gunmen of the Apocalypse”, for example, absolutely shouts that Grant Naylor felt like writing a Western. This flexibility has the advantage that the well of possible episode ideas is a deep one – there’s hardly an idea which couldn’t be dragged in somewhere at a pinch.
Class: Humour mostly arises from conflict of some kind, and the humour of Red Dwarf is no exception. Conflict stems from several sources in the show, with one of the major ones being class. Writing about class is the biological destiny of British writers: it’s hammered into their genes, and no matter what they set out to write about, class creeps in somewhere.

The class conflict in Red Dwarf centres on the contrast between Lister, who’s contentedly working class and happy with his life and his destiny, and Rimmer, would-be upwardly mobile yuppie. Rimmer is constantly dissatisfied with the status quo yet doesn’t possess a smidgen of the aptitude needed to do anything about it. Rimmer despises Lister for his lowly horizons (and for being happy with his situation when Rimmer isn’t), and Lister is contemptuous of Rimmer’s pretensions.

Class also underpins the humour of Kryten’s struggle to break his programming. Like a member of ye olde servant classes, he is initially a subscriber to the “rich man at his castle, poor man at his gate ” philosophy; however, Lister attempts to drag him into the three-million-and- twenty-third century by teaching him he’s as good as anyone else. This provides an interesting contrast between the “new” and “old” working classes and gives me an opportunity to sound like a sociology textbook.

Taboos: Another primary source of comedy from conflict in Red Dwarf stems from the breaking of taboos. Lister breaks societal norms of personal hygiene: it’s rumoured that several pairs of his socks have struck out on their own to colonise an asteroid. Rimmer breaks the norm that self-interest should take a back place to consideration of others, and the Cat also transgresses this standard. In addition, Rimmer is a freely self-confessed coward, which deals to the notion that we should be brave and if we’re not we should appear so.
There’s a streak of gross-out humour in Red Dwarf that also centres around the breaking of taboos. Examples of this include Lister’s eating the dog food (“Marooned”) and the spider (“Demons and Angels”), his deployment of the severed hand (“The Inquisitor”) the “autopsy” meal (“Polymorph”) and Lister’s kissing the psiren (“Psirens”).

Sex and bodily function jokes also fall into the category of taboo humour, and there are a lot, especially about sex (or, as the BBC videos put it, “adult themes”. Say…no…MORE!) But while it works itself into the conversation a lot, there isn’t actually much of it going on: this is, of course, part of the humour, but the crew seem a curiously chaste bunch all the same. Rimmer’s woeful record with the opposite sex while alive (exact statistics for this vary from episode to episode, but it’s safe to say you can count Rimmer’s sexual experiences on the fingers of two thumbs) ensures that for comedy’s sake he gets more romantic action than any of the other characters, but that’s not saying much.
Along the same lines, there’s a running joke about Rimmer’s, er, underendowment which spans the series, taking in his stuffing socks down his trousers in “Kryten”, his feelings of inadequacy when confronted with Arlene’s Playgirl centrefolds (“Parallel Universe”), Holly’s statement that he has a small physical presence (“Meltdown”) and Nirvanah’s comment that he makes love like a Japanese meal, with small portions but many courses (“Holoship”).
Despite the fact that the only available lover on board has a puncture, and that leaves each other as the only sentient creatures in the neighbourhood, Grant Naylor make it clear there’s no funny stuff about the boys from the Dwarf (“What do you do when you want to have sex?” “We go for runs” (“Holoship”).).
However, having said that, there is, of course, that strange scene from “Demons and Angels” in which Low Rimmer, (who is supposed to be the worst part of Rimmer’s character, although how could they tell?) declares his intent of having sexual congress with the aid of a holowhip with Lister. What are they trying to tell us? Freud could have a field day with this scene and its intriguing possible connection with Rimmer’s name, and so could I, if it weren’t for the Communications Decency Act.

Situation-based sight gags: These are present right through Red Dwarf, but become particularly important in series VI. They include stuff like the atomic chopsticks (“Legion”), and often intersect with the gross-out humour, such as the mashed potato scene in “Bodyswap”, the intestine jokes in “Psirens” and the space weevil in “Legion”.

Conflict within characters: As well as the conflict between characters which makes up a large part of the humour of the programme, there’s also conflict within some of the characters. This is probably least evident in Lister and the Cat: Lister seems for the most part reasonably together and adjusted to his situation, and the Cat, like all cats, regards himself as perfect. Rimmer, however, is constantly torn between his bombastic pretence and the reluctant self-knowledge which contradicts this, and Kryten is conflicted over the constant pull of his programming against his inclinations.

With it’s unique and admirable take on the world of SF and it’s ever popular brand of wit and humour Red Dwarf is and will continue to be one of the comedy greats. It has stood the test of time which by any means is an achievement not to be ignored.