The worst periods are those between drops, cruising interstellar space with nothing to do but listen to computer-selected rock music. To pass the time Doolittle plays with his bottle organ or tries to persuade Talby (perhaps the most stable one there) to come down from the observation dome and join in with the group. Talby doesn't see much incentive in this though - all Boiler does is leaf through ancient girlie magazines while Pinback tries for a laugh with his rubber chicken (a routine they've all seen thousands of times before). It looks as though their duties are so tedious that even feeding the pet alien is a chore, especially when the beast looks like an over-inflated beach-ball and behaves like a mischievous child.
However, the alien becomes more than just a nuisance when it escapes and provides the critical link in a deadly chain-of-events. Ordinarily the crew might have realised the problem but not on the good ship Dark Star - so much is broken or lost that one more breakdown get forgotten under the more pressing situation of having no toilet paper (it was all destroyed when the storage area blew-up). Mix in a bomb with a built-in suicide wish, stew for 24 minutes and wait for an 'enlightening' conclusion.
The most refreshing aspect of Dark Star is that it absolutely refuses to take itself seriously, revelling in a broth of humour, irreverence and stoned apathy. The crew is so laid-back they can hardly stand, playing every scene in a low-key, restrained fashion which works well with the, frankly, limited script. Although the story arose as a low-budget student project, written by John Carpenter and Dan O'Bannon, these origins are not glaringly obvious in either the atmosphere or the special effects. Hence, by avoiding the dating which effects many sci-fi movies, we are left with an enjoyable, relaxed comedy which drifts along on its own space-dust.