Sorry to say I'm very behind on my reviewing. Moving into a new place is a very time-consuming and stressful undertaking, and one I like to do as infrequently as possible, but these last two weeks have been onwards and upwards and so televisual excursions have been reduced. Soon, though, I will find time to finish covering Space Dandy season two, get back onto Trek and return to working for Television Heaven. Now though, I can finish the latest run of Red Dwarf.
Best line: "No, Kinder eggs! Yes, eggs that hatch!"
Good psycho guide: Four chainsaws
This year's series of
Red Dwarf has built on the
successful approach of Series X, taking elements of the earliest
series and rejigging them for a modern approach. Wisely not trying
too hard to recreate the classic years, Series XI is retro Red
Dwarf – taking the old and
making it new. As such, it's been a very fan-pleasing run, but
crucially, it's also the funniest series of Red Dwarf for
a good long while (probably since series VI, for my dollarpound).
“Can
of Worms” goes for broke with this approach, dredging up memories
of favourite episodes while examining some, in retrospect, obvious
questions about a character who hasn't ever really been in the
limelight. This series we've had a strong Rimmer episode and a strong
Kryten episode, and to a lesser extent, a Lister-focused episode, but
never before have we had a Cat episode. The closest we've got was
“Waiting for God” in Series I, and that was really a Lister
story.
Finally,
Danny John Jules gets to be the focus of an episode, with a script
that revolves around the Cat and his mysterious, self-absorbed
lifestyle. Of course the Cat, for all his arrogant self-aggrandising,
has never been with a woman, and he's only even met about three. It's
a very funny, very blokey set-up for an episode.
It's
kind of a shame that, after introducing a female Cat person, the
episode chucks the concept away. Back in Series VII, Naylor wrote a
script called “Identity Within,” which revolved around the Cat's
desperate need to have sex, a parody of Star Trek's
“Amok Time.” That episode was scrapped due to budget constraints,
but it's voiced storyboard has become generally accepted by fans as a
“real” story, something this latest episode puts the kibosh on.
Series VII would have given us a real Felis sapiens,
but Series XI decides to make her a polymorph instead.
Still,
it works. It's a brave move, trying to make a (second) sequel to one
of the most popular episodes of the programme, but this latest
shapeshifter attack hits an excellent balance of grot vs. comedy. The
more seasoned spacers have little difficulty dealing with a whole
swarm of polymorphs this time round, but there are enough jokes
hitting the mark that it still works as a new take on the old
monster.
Meanwhile
the Cat gets some of his nest moments ever. It's hard to know whether
“It still counts!” or “Pipe me!” will go down as his
best-remembered lines (disturbingly, the ovipositor thing is an
actual fetish). It's also fun to see the suddenly selfless mother
Cat, a huge contrast to his usual self, and once again an idea that
deserves more exploration than there is time for. Underneath it all,
though, we get a glimpse at how lonely the Cat is as a character.
There's a lot more that could be done with his character.
That
last scene though, that could have been something. Yes, it was funny,
but if only it hadn't been a dream. Of course, it would have made
nonsense of the episode as a whole, but imagine the continuity
arguments the fanboys would have had...
Best line: "No, Kinder eggs! Yes, eggs that hatch!"
Good psycho guide: Four chainsaws
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