Dark Star (4K UHD Review)

  • Reviewed by: Stephen Bjork
  • Review Date: Nov 19, 2025
  • Format: 4K Ultra HD
Dark Star (4K UHD Review)

Director

John Carpenter

Release Date(s)

1974 (November 10, 2025)

Studio(s)

Jack H. Harris Enterprises/University of Southern California (Fabulous Films)
  • Film/Program Grade: B
  • Video Grade: B+
  • Audio Grade: B
  • Extras Grade: A-
  • Overall Grade: A-

Review

[Editor’s Note: This is a British import containing a Region-Free 4K UHD and a Region B-locked Blu-ray.]

John Carpenter and Dan O’Bannon’s debut feature Dark Star was inspired by disparate sources from Edmund Husserl to Stanley Kubrick to Ray Bradbury (more on those influences in a moment), but the reality is that it owes its birth to a much more mundane source: resentment. When Carpenter, O’Bannon, and a few of their fellow students in the film department at USC set out to make a 16mm absurdist science fiction short subject in early 1970, that could have been the end of the road for Dark Star. Instead, it was just the beginning, due in no small part to the fact that Carpenter was also working on a short subject called The Resurrection of Broncho Billy. Carpenter co-wrote, edited, and scored the film, and when it went on to win the Oscar for Short Subject (Live Action) at the 43rd Academy Awards in 1971, he ended up learning a hard lesson about the realities of being a lowly film student. Carpenter and director James R. Rokos were left out in the cold when the faculty decided that producer John Longenecker would accept the award, and worse, the school itself retained ownership of the statuette. The people who actually created the film got nothing.

The experience stung, and it inflamed Carpenter’s lack of respect for authority. So, when opportunity knocked, he walked out of USC in 1972 before graduating, and he took all the extant footage from Dark Star with him—burning his bridges at USC in the process. Carpenter wanted to expand it into a feature film for theatrical exhibition, and he initially hooked up with fellow student Jonathan Kaplan and Canadian distributor Jack Murphy, both of whom funded some reshoots, but the interstellar saga of Dark Star didn’t really take off until legendary B-movie producer Jack H. Harris got involved. That meant working for him and giving up some creative freedom, but while the USC experience had taught Carpenter when to stand firm, it also helped him understand when it was necessary to bend. The prickly O’Bannon didn’t quite see things that way, which led to friction in their creative partnership and its eventual breakup. Dark Star was born from resentment, and it would end up creating resentments of its own. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves there.

At its core, Dark Star can be summed up with a single word: ennui. Comic ennui, but still. Despite having a lack of interest in literary drama (he’s long been a video game kind of guy), Carpenter has described the film as Waiting for Godot in outer space.” The crew of the Dark Star has been in deep space for more than twenty years, searching for unstable planets to blow up. They couldn’t be more different from each other: Lieutenant Doolittle (Brian Narelle) is disinterested in pretty much everything other than his memories of surfing back home; Boiler (Cal Kuniholm) just wants to have fun in an environment where there isn’t any; Pinback (O’Bannon) is sullen and resentful of the others, feeling that he always gets the short end of the stick; and Talby (Dre Pahich) spends all day in the ship’s dome watching the stars. Their only other companions are the ship’s computer (voiced by Cookie Knapp, wife of cinematographer Douglas Knapp), a semi-sentient alien mascot, and the various artificially intelligent bombs that form the core of their mission.

Yet their lives haven’t been without challenges that break up the two decades’ worth of monotony. The ship’s captain Commander Powell was killed in an accident, leading to Doolittle taking over, and ship’s entire supply of toilet paper was destroyed in the process. Worse, a run-in with a freak asteroid storm damages the ship’s communication systems, leading to one of the bombs deciding that it’s time to explode despite that fact that it’s still stuck inside the ship. Doolittle, in desperation, goes on a spacewalk to try to talk the bomb out of exploding by teaching it phenomenology. Unfortunately, it learns the lesson all too well, finally shaking the entire crew of the Dark Star out of their complacency—once and for all.

Obviously, there’s a generous dose of 2001: A Space Odyssey in Dark Star, from the ship’s computer to the Artificial Intelligence on Bomb #20 turning homicidal. The slow pace of life in space is also derived from 2001, and there’s even a fleeting reference to George Lucas’ THX 1138. The phenomenology angle may have come from Edmund Husserl or any of its other proponents, although in practice Doolittle’s lesson is really more about phenomenalism than it is about phenomenology per se (pardon me for splitting hairs). But there’s a more important uncredited source that helped determine the fate of the Dark Star’s crew: Ray Bradbury’s 1949 short story Kaleidoscope. In it, the crew of an exploding craft end up tumbling away from each other through space, forced to confront their own impending mortality. One of them ends up being absorbed into a passing cluster of meteors, while another becomes a shooting star. (Sound familiar?) The script for Dark Star even paraphrases some of Bradbury’s dialogue.

Still, there’s another major influence on Dark Star that needs to be addressed: its co-creator Dan O’Bannon. Carpenter is officially credited as director, screenwriter, composer, and producer, while O’Bannon is credited as actor, co-screenwriter, editor, production designer, and visual effects supervisor. In practice, of course, the lines tend to be blurred on a no-budget production, with everyone wearing whatever hat is necessary at any given moment. Dark Star is unmistakably a John Carpenter film, but it still bears O’Bannon’s fingerprints throughout, and not just because he’s a prominent member of the cast. Yet his biggest influence can be seen in something that hasn’t really been Carpenter’s métier anywhere else: absurdist humor. However low-key that Dark Star may be, it’s also mordantly funny and even genuinely hilarious at times. (The first time that I saw the film on late-night television, I literally fell off the couch laughing at what happens when Pinback tries to tranquilize the recalcitrant mascot.)

Still, there’s no escaping the fact that Dark Star bears Carpenter’s own visual stamp (despite the fact that it wasn’t shot in his beloved Panavision), and even his aural stamp with his first ever feature film score. The humor may be in line with O’Bannon’s other work, but Dark Star doesn’t look anything like his own efforts at directing. O’Bannon may (or may not have) written Bomb #20’s final declaration, but the chilling way that it plays out in the film is pure Carpenter. O’Bannon also chafed at working with Jack Harris, feeling that the “purity” of the original short was being disrupted by all the reshoots. Carpenter was more sanguine about the process, recognizing it as a necessary evil in order to get theatrical distribution. The partnership between Carpenter and O’Bannon had already been fraying throughout the long production, but getting the film over the finish line in 1974 broke them up once and for all.

Considering that Carpenter continued to work with some of his other collaborators on Dark Star, including Douglas Knapp, Tommy Lee Wallace, Nick Castle, and Bill Taylor (all of whom were content to remain in the background), the dispute with O’Bannon came down to the fact that they both wanted to captain the ship. In the end, Carpenter took final possession of it, and O’Bannon carried resentments from the experience to his grave (in an unironic echo of Pinback’s resentments against Doolittle in the film). Dark Star may have been born out of Carpenter’s resentment over The Resurrection of Broncho Billy, but for O’Bannon, it became on ongoing source of animosity. Unfortunately, that means he lost sight of what he and Carpenter had achieved with the film in its final theatrical cut, which has become a cult classic for good reason. The seams do show, but it’s a witty and stylish examination of existential angst.

And that leads to a sidebar regarding the alternate versions of Dark Star. The original student film ran 45-50 minutes, depending on whom you believe (it’s most commonly listed as 45 minutes, but O’Bannon made the 50-minute claim in his essay Remaking Dark Star for Omni’s Screen Flights/Screen Fantasies in 1984). The initial round of reshoots brought it up to 90 minutes, and they contained the most significant addition: the beach ball alien and Pinback’s misadventures pursuing it throughout the ship (that’s the scene that helped inspire O’Bannon’s script for Alien). When Harris came on board, he was unhappy with some of the reshot footage, demanded that it be cut, and ordered new rounds of reshoots that included Doolittle’s makeshift musical instrument and the scene were Pinback acts like a clown for his fellow astronauts. The subtractions and additions brought the final running time for the theatrical cut down to 83 minutes, and that’s the version that Bryanston Pictures distributed in 1975.

Still with us? Good, because everything is about to get a bit muddier. Shorter version(s?) have been distributed on home video over the years, variously billed as the director’s cut, the “filmmaker’s original vision,” or the “version preferred by the filmmakers.” (It has also been referred to as the original student film, but that’s just plain incorrect.) The stated running time has varied between 68 and 71 minutes, although there’s reason to question to question the accuracy of the former figure. The shorter cut eliminates the two scenes added for Harris, which can be argued are little more than padding. Unfortunately, it also eliminates the asteroid storm that leads to the initial malfunction of the bomb, as well as the later moment when the alien causes the second malfunction while temporarily escaping Pinback. Those are indefensible deletions, because not only does it remove the casus belli for the cascading technical issues aboard the Dark Star, but it also gets rid of the one moment that actually connected the alien to the main story—which ironically enough, turns the whole alien sequence into padding.

Regardless of any claims about being a “director’s cut,” the reality is that John Carpenter had nothing to do with the shorter version (he’s always kept Dark Star at arm’s length). The real source for it was none other than Dan O’Bannon, who was indeed one of the original filmmakers but has no decisive claim to any kind of “original vision” for the film. It’s hardly a coincidence that two of the scenes that he eliminated were the ones that were added at Harris’ request, or that he retained the pursuit of the alien even though it was also padding added during the earlier reshoots—after all, the fact that the sequence provided the genesis for Alien looms large in O’Bannon’s legend. But rather than being a purer version of the film, the shorter cut is even less coherent. And the padding from the two Harris scenes actually benefits the film as a whole, since they reinforce the utter banality of life aboard the Dark Star. Watch Brian Narelle closely during his scene playing the makeshift instrument—the world-weary look on his face at the end says more than pages of dialogue could have possibly done. Stick with the theatrical cut.

Cinematographer Douglas Knapp shot Dark Star on 16mm Kodak Ektachrome reversal stock (at 25 ASA in standard 16mm format) using an Éclair camera with spherical lenses. Despite the fact that more money was available for the reshoots, Knapp stuck to 16mm photography in order to maintain consistency with the earlier student film footage. (Harris later claimed that the reshoots were shot in 35mm, but Knapp’s memories are more accurate in that regard.) Bill Taylor handled the optical blowups to 35mm and all the other optical effects, with the final film hard matted to 1.85:1. The original 16mm student film footage was intended to be projected open-matte at 1.37:1, but that train sailed after the film was expanded and blown up for theatrical release, since the entire film was reframed on a shot-by-shot basis for 1.85:1. The 16mm camera negative and any pre-print elements no longer exist, so this 4K version has been scanned and digitally restored from “the original 35mm film reels,” which is a euphemism for the only extant theatrical print. (It’s been graded for High Dynamic Range in Dolby Vision and HDR10.)

The results are hardly a revelation, and yet they’re surprisingly good. The old 1080p master that VCI used for their 2012 Blu-ray was painted with a broad DNR brush that wiped out nearly all of the layers of grain, smearing the textures in the process. Fortunately, that’s not an issue here, and all of the varying levels of grain are intact (there’s just one closeup of Pinback at 51:23 that’s still smoothed out). Obviously, this version can’t exhibit actual 4K worth of fine detail, but when you consider that the source was a later generation 35mm print blown up from standard 16mm, it’s not bad at all. Any damage has been carefully cleaned up, so there isn’t even any speckling on display (although there’s a hair at the bottom edge of the frame in a few shots during the elevator scene). The contrast range is also surprisingly good, and while there’s no point looking for shadow detail that just doesn’t exist on a 35mm print, it looks like they’ve still managed to wring just a bit more than was visible in the older home video versions. The colors have varied on all of those previous versions, but they look accurate here.

Now to be fair, when comparing the included Blu-ray to the UHD, there’s very little difference between the two. The grain may be handled just a touch better on the UHD (although it’s still not quite a perfect encode), but actual differences are negligible. Yet that’s to be expected given the source. Would a remastered Blu-ray only version have been good enough? Perhaps, but I’m not looking this gift horse in the mouth. I’ll happily take Dark Star in 4K regardless of whether or not it’s demo material. We live in interesting times.

Audio is offered in English 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio, with optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. Dark Star was originally recorded, mixed, and released in mono, and unfortunately that mix hasn’t been included here. None of the original stems exist anymore (even the soundtrack album that was released in 1980 contained music and dialogue derived from the theatrical optical tracks), so this 5.1 remix is really just processed mono, with some synthesized stereo spread and surround presence. Fortunately, it’s a relatively tame one that doesn’t take away from the mono character. There’s some noise, hiss, and crackling in the background, but the dialogue is clear enough despite the limitations of the original recordings, and Carpenter’s score still sounds as good as it can.

Dark Star (4K Ultra HD)

The Fabulous Films Region-Free 4K Ultra HD release of Dark Star includes a Region B locked Blu-ray with a 1080p copy of the film. It also includes a reproduction of the original pressbook; 8 lobby card reprints; a double-sided foldout poster with the original U.K. poster artwork (one of which is also used as the cover art); a pseudo–Mission Log; and a 12-page booklet with an essay by Michael Doyle. Everything comes housed in a somewhat flimsy slipcase. (There’s also a version available directly from the Fabulous Films webstore that includes a mission patch and different packaging, but note that they don’t ship to the U.S.) The following extras are included:

DISC ONE: UHD

  • Commentary by Andrew Gilchrist
  • Trailer (UHD – 2:26)

DISC TWO: BD

  • Commentary by Andrew Gilchrist
  • Trailer (HD – 2:27)
  • Special Bonus:
    • Let There Be Light: The Odyssey of Dark Star (SD – 116:39)
    • Interview with Alan Dean Foster (SD – 34:45)
    • Brian Narelle Shares Behind-the-Scenes Stories (SD – 40:10)
    • Written Introduction by Dan O’Bannon (SD – 1:25)
    • Galleries:
      • Original Posters (HD, 5 in all)
      • Original Lobby Cards (HD, 8 in all)
      • Colour Images (HD, 11 in all)
      • Black & White Images (HD, 12 in all)
    • Biographies:
      • John Carpenter (SD – 4:10, 8 pages in all)
      • Dan O’Bannon (SD – 2:36, 5 pages in all)
      • Brian Narelle (SD – :31, 1 page in all)
      • Jack Harris (SD – 1:33, 3 pages in all)
    • 3D Guide to the Dark Star Ship:
      • Observation (SD – :49)
      • Fly Around (SD – :16)
      • Bomb Bay (SD – 1:05)
      • Warp (SD – :28)
    • Trivia (SD – 5:00, 10 pages in all)

The majority of the extras are ported over from VCI’s 2010 Hyperdrive Edition DVD (and their subsequent 2012 Thermostellar Edition Blu-ray). The commentary features “Super Fan Andrew Gilchrist”, and it’s a bit of a slog. He does identify the actors (including voiceovers, redubs, and stand-ins), as well as those who designed and constructed everything in the film. He also identifies some of the visual effects techniques and tries to break down the differences between the versions (which is a bit more difficult to parse than it may seem on the surface). Unfortunately, he pauses between providing these tidbits of information—a lot. It’s a dry and sparse track that’s only going to be worth the time for fellow super fans of Dark Star.

Let There Be Light: The Odyssey of Dark Star is a feature length making-of documentary that was produced by Daniel Griffith for his Ballyhoo Motion Pictures, offering new and archival interviews with Carpenter, O’Bannon, Ron Cobb, Brian Narelle, Tommy Lee Wallace, Douglas Knapp, Cookie Knapp, Bill Taylor, Jack H. Harris, Diane O’Bannon, and the late Jeff Burr (a few of the interviews are audio only.) And by “feature length”, we’re talking about a documentary that’s 33 minutes longer than the film it’s profiling. It never wears out its welcome, though, and fans of Dark Star will find plenty of fascinating details to digest. Everything is organized chronologically, starting with brief biographies of Carpenter and O’Bannon before delving into the history of the production. And it covers just about everything, too, from conception to release and all points in between (even examining the personality conflicts between Carpenter and O’Bannon). Let There Be Light was produced shortly after O’Bannon’s death in 2009, so it’s respectful of his legacy while still acknowledging that he was a complicated individual.

There are also two interviews conducted by an unidentified interviewer. The first is with author Alan Dean Foster, who describes the lonely process of writing the novelization for Dark Star. It was a challenge since so much of the film consists of the characters sitting around doing nothing, so he ultimately decided to spend some time portraying their inner lives, something that the film never did. Foster also explains his own interest in science fiction and how he unintentionally came to be regarded as the king of novelizations. Brian Narelle tells stories about his experiences at the USC film school (he moonlit in the theatre department) and the torturous process of shooting Dark Star over the course of three years. He also discusses his life since the film was released (he even demonstrates his puppetry and drumming skills near the end).

The rest of the extras are miscellany taken from VCI’s DVD and Blu-ray releases, along with some HD image galleries that came from the 2012 Fabulous Films Blu-ray. The Written Introduction by Dan O’Bannon is just that: a signed typewritten page with O’Bannon giving an abbreviated version of his feelings about Dark Star. The 3D Guide to the Dark Star Ship is a pretty useless gimmick that combines animated fly-arounds of a CGI model of the ship with clips from the film. Finally, there’s a few pages of outdated Biographies and some equally uninteresting Trivia. Still, it’s great that nearly everything from the previous DVDs and Blu-rays has been included here for archival purposes. The only noteworthy thing that’s missing is a commentary with Mark Steensland that originally appeared on a German DVD from Atlantis Films, along with some “bloopers” that were really just text-based descriptions of some mistakes. (Since the LaserDisc version only included the shorter cut of the film, it also included a collection of the scenes that were missing from that version, but it’s pointless with both cuts being included here.)

Did Dark Star really warrant a 4K release? No, it didn’t. Am I thrilled that it got one anyway? As another yet super fan of the film, yes indeed I am. Given that it’s also inclusive of all the previous extras from VCI and Fabulous Films, it’s worthy purchase for any fellow super fans. Highly recommended, as long as you clearly understand what you’re getting. Even for an iconic filmmaker like John Carpenter, big things usually start small.

-Stephen Bjork

(You can follow Stephen on social media at these links: Twitter, Facebook, BlueSky, and Letterboxd).