The Nostrilomo.

Onions & Cornflakes. Rice & Chips. Caviar & Vindaloo. Some things just go together, no matter how utterly-bizarre a combo they may first seem to the uninitiated eye, nose, or tongue.

I, for one, adore the theory that Blade Runner and Alien exist in the same fictional universe. They just seem to be a nice fit. Both ably depict a world where amoral, self-serving scum have abandoned their morals, and corrupt mega corporations consider almost anybody to be expendable, in their insane lust for power.

Should the notion that each story inhabits the other ever be portrayed in live-action, the end result could be fascinating. If ballsed-up, it could also be unforgivably reductive. Certain fictional cross-overs function remarkably well, such as the original, marvellous Dark Horse comic book series, Aliens Vs. Predator. Certain others, however, haven't exactly fulfilled their limitless potential. But, could Red Dwarf realistically happen upon a fellow fictional continuum? Perhaps, it already has...

In Psirens, when Starbug enters the spaceship graveyard, a Lockmart Starcub lifeboat, as seen during the climax of Alien, can clearly be seen resting on one of the cold, lifeless rocks otherwise crawling with slimy, brain-sucking, psychotic, temporal lobe slurpers. In continuity, this raises all sorts of questions. Not least of all, as in Demons & Angels, a door poster of the Xenomorph can be found in the Lows' sleeping quarters by the fridge; perhaps, made real-alive-solid, as a result of the unforeseen triplication effect. Speculative side note: rather than subjectively recreating/filtering matter two-fold, did the triplicator instead pull-in, or phase, elements from parallel universes, much like the Holly Hop drive? That would explain a lot. Well, mitigate.

As I understand, the poster in question [approximately 97cm x 68cm] was produced in 1989, by European printers, Scandecor, who coincidentally were also responsible for producing the official 1995, 1996, and 1997 Red Dwarf calendars. Featuring a James Cameron-redesigned warrior caste breaking-through an everyday, white wooden bedroom door, the striking image was devised and taken by ILM veterans, brothers Bob & Dennis Skotak, who worked on the film's visual effects. There is a similar, but less screen-accurate version [D33-35 "ALIENS"] featuring a more head-on shot that was printed by Great Southern Company, of Macon, Georgia.

A little earlier in the show's timeline, whilst under the influence of the man-made Polymorph, Lister's greatest fear can be seen personified in the form of an insectoid, eight-foot tall, armour-plated, alien killing machine. This is clearly inspired by Kane's Son, though I'd guess, also unwittingly borrows from writer/creator, Dan O'Bannon's notion that his titular starbeast might look even more disturbing if its design were to incorporate a more familiar flesh tone; ultimately embodied by the larval chestburster stage, itself later parodied by Archie's escape during all-time transcendental Series VIII episode, Pete Byte II.

Later, it seems that Tyrell Corp. rival, Weyland Corp. [introduced in Ridley Scott's Alien prequel, Prometheus] apparently sold/loaned/misplaced a hypersleep chamber [not a Pauling MedPod 720i] to the JMC, which is featured throughout Series XI-XII. During the film, its process is described as 'cryostasis' by David 8.

The three-parter, Back To Earth is in essence a parody of Blade Runner, also directed by Scott; reputedly being one of the major inspirations for the series' despondent tone. Not forgetting, the SS Red Dwarf is a mining ship, much like the conversely tinier tug, USCSS Nostromo, except that it boasts a way cooler paint job, ob'z. Trivia-speaking of which, the latter vessel was originally painted yellow, before Ridley Scott insisted that a flatter grey was the way to go. Had the more vibrant tone persevered, it would have been far easier to tie both ships together in a mutual fleet. And also see on a dark country road, in low visibility.

In principle, the No-Aliens rule of Red Dwarf ironically also ties-in to the Xenoverse [Alienverse..? Scottiverse..?]. I may be in the minority, but I too enjoy the notion that The Alien™ was actually man-made, or android-made, as hinted in the prequels. I only regret that this retcon was not more cleanly outlined, narratively-speaking; as in the case of say, Pleasure GELFs, Simulants, or even the Kinitowowi.

And yes, I know that it lets the air of the Space Jockey's balloon, but in Darwinian terms, the Xeno, albeit biomechanical, shares just too many characteristics with human beings to have realistically originated anywhere but Earth. As a facehugger, it looks too much like a pair of hands bound by a scrotal sac. As a fully-fledged drone, its arms, legs, ribs, and especially smile, look a gnat's wing too much like Michael Fassbender's. 

As apparently confirmed on-screen, the Engineers seem to be our in-universe progenitors, so they don't quite qualify as bona fide aliens as such, certainly if we share common genetic markers. If anything, the prequels seem to posit the notion that human beings are likely the extra-terrestrials inhabiting terra firma, and colonies beyond. That said, assuming the Predator race exists in the Alien universe, then boom goes any potential no-[actual]-aliens policy.

Rimmer's gangly, banana-headed, Self-Loathing Beast from Terrorform, aka The Master, aka Nightmare Norman, also bears more than a passing resemblance to the iconic endoparasitoid, though is almost exclusively seen by its shadow [outside of deleted scenes, and assorted DVD wonders]. As a kid, this reminded me more of the box art for Alien Breed, on the iconic Amiga home computer. Oh, the irony.

Despite being a forever fan of both Paul Montague & Mel Bibby's unparalleled design work, the 'alien' corridor set in D.N.A., to my taste, most unwittingly demonstrates the limitations in the show's deceptively-finite budget. It is even more, for lack of a better word, obvious, than the zebra print floor in Justice; which at least hints at some kind of psychological reasoning for utilizing such an incongruous, jarring pattern, post-mind probe. 

On the other hand, the neighbouring transmogrification chamber feels far more authentic. Here, we see what appears to be tendrils growing from the main console, suggesting a bio-organic interface. Plus, the control panel display features pictographic characters not too dissimilar to those employed by our mandible/dreadlock-sporting space cousins. 

Nevertheless, in this, the first and only time in the show's history to practically delve into the existence of otherworld lifeforms, we at last have a Promethean link involving genetic splicing, and... well, aliens. Or, so it would seem. As mentioned above, there are simply too many obvious factors suggesting a human root to the unknown craft's origin. The floor is clearly comprised of commercially-crafted metal grating. From an infinite universe of choice, there's a humanoid corpse found aboard. The atmosphere is breathable. The gravity is comparable. The on-board computer is able to adjust not only to human speech, but zero-in on a 23rd Century dialect. In just a few keystrokes, Cat is able to randomly select a Homo sapiens gene sequence by which a potential host can be transmogrified, etc.

The more I consider, the more I reckon that ship was of human origin, and had fallen victim to some kind of uncontrolled organic manipulation. This may initially have been deliberate, perhaps in an attempt to make the vessel more efficient or space-worthy, or it could have been by accident. Either way, it's a shame we haven't found out more concerning what happened to the craft, post-episode. Yet.

So, in conclusion, are both Alien and Red Dwarf genetically joined at the double helix? Absolutely.

But, are they in practice, though? Well, unless somebody says otherwise, sadly probably not. At the end of the day, formally-speaking, it doesn't really matter all that much whether they are officially connected, or not. Back on the Blade Runner/Alien front, fans continue to argue as to whether even attempting to find such links can actually diminish the uniqueness of each production. The smeg, it does. Certainly not when those noteworthy dramatic connections happen to perpetually enhance my personal enjoyment of both.

That also said, Sigourney Weaver did fairly recently make a cracking cameo appearance in, Doc Martin. Is it too much to hope that Ellen Ripley may one day turn up on Bay 47's landing gantry? I'd happily pay to see Ripley say, 'smeg', or 'gimboid', or something.

... But, that's not likely to happen, as during Back In The Red Part I, Holly makes an Alien joke, and refers to it as a science-fiction film. Oh, well. Disregard the above.

This is Caviar Vindaloo, signing off. Until the next article.