Comedy is not the first thing that jumps to mind when one thinks of John Carpenter, but back in the early 1970s, it was a science fiction slapstick film that first got the young director noticed.

What followed is film-school cult legend: Dark Star.

A year later, Carpenter showed the low-budget opus to his class. Even in this early incarnation, Dark Star was unique, the tale of four lonely hippie astronauts assigned to fly around outer space and blow up any planets they can find.

Part meditation on life, part silly slapstick, the film pulled off an impossible trick by creating a legitimate-looking low-budget science fiction universe, populated by friends and decorated with tin foil and metal cans.

After receiving its share of acclaim at USC, Dark Star hit the festival circuit in 1973 with a bang, winning praise for both Carpenter and O’Bannon.

But its odd length -- at 68 minutes, too short to be a feature, but too long for typical short-film festivals -- left it in limbo, not quite professional and not quite "student," difficult to classify.

Lucky for Carpenter, it wasn’t long before a distributor approached him about shooting an additional 15 minutes of footage to make it easier to release the film as a feature. Carpenter jumped at the chance, but there was only one problem: USC itself.

It all came down to school politics. In exchange for providing financial backing, the University of Southern California has a long-standing policy of owning the negatives to all student films produced there.

This policy has proved to be highly unpopular with the students. Legend has it that after being approached for distribution, John Carpenter asked to have the negative returned to him and was denied by the USC staff.

Upset and desperate to sign the distribution deal, Carpenter staged a late-night raid on the USC campus. Wearing a ski-mask and gloves, the director allegedly broke into the locked building and physically stole back his own movie. USC supposedly let the "break-in" drop, not bothering to investigate, and Carpenter had his film back.

It’s never been proven, and Carpenter has kept mum. However the legend persists.

The Dark Star universe takes its cues more from continental philosophy than rocket science.

O’Bannon plays "Pinback," a dimwitted janitor who only got on the mission when he accidentally stole the uniform of the real Pinback right before lift-off.

He's the most vital part of the film. The other weary astronauts go through life with little emotion, mostly sitting in the star-chair bubble deck on top of the ship and staring out into space. They’re bored, lonely and sick of each other.

Philosophical musings are mixed with a series of sketch comedy bits, the funniest involving O’Bannon’s battles with his pet space alien, a giant red inflatable beach-ball with two plastic webbed feet that Carpenter came up with. The beach-ball alien squeals and bounces around, makes Ed Wood’s space saucers look like Star Wars.

The two interact like a live-action Tom and Jerry cartoon, getting into increasingly bizarre situations that end with O’Bannon trapped in a service elevator while the alien beach-ball tries to tickle him to death.

Since Dan O’Bannon would later become famous for creating quite another space Alien, these surreal, slapstick scenes take on a strange sense of irony.

Apparently unsure how to expand the story, Carpenter went back and shot three sidebar scenes to give the film the 83 minutes needed for distribution. The scenes fit in well, offering an additional look at the bored astronauts hanging out in their messy dorm, a meteor shower attack and a somewhat poignant glimpse of Pinback sadly playing a home-built musical instrument made out of bottles.

The film ends with the astronauts arguing philosophy with an existentially challenged and self-aware nuclear bomb. It seems the bomb doesn’t want to shut down, and is questioning the very meaning of life.

The absurdist tone predates The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, making one wonder if Douglas Adams, at the time toiling away as a staff writer for Doctor Who over at the BBC, might’ve

found a copy of Dark Star and found inspiration -- perhaps even comfort -- in its silliness.

Meanwhile, the bomb, having concluded "Let there be light!", finally decides to blow up the ship, scattering the two remaining astronauts into space to ponder their fate and ultimate meditations on existence. They float away from each other, only their com-links to communicate.

The acting is pretty bad, but given the tone of the film, somehow endearing. The pacing is slow by today’s standards, but for a dreamy, hippie sci-fi comedy, there are enough laughs and genuinely bizarre moments to make you wonder exactly what Carpenter and O’Bannon were smoking out at USC.

Dark Star may feel incredibly dated today, but to see two future giants of the science fiction industry making such a silly piece of fluff is quite a kick in its own right. It still holds a strong cult following who call it a SF classic. While I wouldn’t go that far, it’s certainly unique and highly entertaining.

Check out Dark Star for a goofy laugh and a few great moments. And the screenwriter of Alien beats up a giant beach-ball. What more could you want?