'E.T.' is why I love the movies
Also, an announcement and Idris Elba punches a lion.
I’ve written before about E.T. It’s an important movie for me. It was the first movie I ever saw in a theater, and it was a constant rewatch in our home once it became available on VHS. John Williams’ score causes an almost chemical reaction in me; it’s shorthand for wonder. When my wife and I visited Universal Studios Florida earlier this year, I made sure we hit the E.T. Adventure just so I could experience the sights and sounds again.
And so, when I heard they were bringing the film back to IMAX theaters last Friday for its 40th anniversary, I knew right away that we’d be getting tickets. My son had seen the film, but it was years ago and I wasn't sure how much he remembered. My daughter is 6, and she had never seen the movie before. For my son, movies are just entertainment and a way to spend time with his Dad; if he had his druthers, we’d be watching football instead. But Cece’s shown an early sensitivity to movies and the reactions they cause (she knows, for instance, that a movie by Pixar is going to make her cry).
I won’t re-review E.T. Suffice to say, there’s a reason why it was the biggest movie in the world for 15 years. There are Spielberg movies I like more, but when you’re in the act of watching E.T., it feels like it is the greatest movie ever made. Spielberg was coming off a run that included Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Raiders of the Lost Ark in the span of just six years, and with E.T., he’s in full command of his ability to totally work an audience.
There have been countless imitators in the wake of E.T., each trying to capture the perfect balance of humor, danger and wonder that Spielberg delivers here. Some have come close; I think Brad Bird’s The Iron Giant is a fantastic kindred spirit to this movie. But more often than not, we get a Mac and Me, in which studios are looking for an easy way to copy Spielberg’s success but condescending to their child audience with wacky, shrill hijinks, bad special effects and excruciating musical numbers (they do, however, go on to create one of the greatest running jokes in late-night history).
Watching E.T. again, I’m amazed at how Spielberg never panders to kids or stages anything in the film from an adult’s perspective. The camera is at kid height in nearly half the scene. There’s humor, but very little of it is slapstick or silly (the closest it comes is when E.T. gets drunk, but even that’s tied in with revealing the mental connection between the alien and Elliott). Kids are deeply emotional, and Spielberg understands this. Where most films are content to crank up one emotion to keep kids distracted, usually humor, Spielberg and screenwriter Melissa Mathison know that, to kids, the world is amazing, silly, mysterious, heartbreaking and terrifying, sometimes all in the same space.
And E.T. never undercuts or softens any of that emotion. It’s not afraid to be funny; the aforementioned scene where E.T. gets drunk is still very funny, and I’ll never not laugh at E.T. seeing a kid in a Yoda costume on Halloween and thinking it’s a kindred spirit (my son, meanwhile, still thinks Elliott’s outburst of “penis breath” is the funniest thing he’s ever seen). But the film is also tender, understanding the confusion and sadness that permeates a home of divorce. The world of the children, populated by the detritus of pop culture, feels real and lived-in, because a world absent of Sesame Street, Star Wars and Dungeons and Dragons would feel false in the 1980s. The bond between the siblings, with constant bickering that can also turn into fierce loyalty when needed, feels incredibly real.
And, as I wrote in my piece, the moments where E.T. is sick and dying feel harsh and raw in a way no other scene in a family movie does. Spielberg lingers on the fight to save E.T., pulls out John Williams’ score, and makes us watch every failed attempt to save him. We watch the scientists attempt CPR and defibrillation, and then the film sits in it for several minutes as the reality sinks in that E.T. is really, truly dead. But of course, what Spielberg is doing is tapping into our deepest childhood wishes to see the sadness of the world come undone, leading to one of the most exciting and triumphant stretches I’ve ever seen in a film.
The point is, Spielberg is playing his audience like a piano; he’s orchestrating a deep emotional experience. And throughout the movie, I glanced away from the screen to observe my daughter. And the emotional roller coaster she went on over the course of two hours reminded me once again of the power of movies.
In the early scenes, as E.T. hid in the woods outside of Elliott’s house, she tensed up and, when E.T. and Elliott finally met in that great jump scare moment, she let out a scream. She was tentative as E.T. ventured into the house, but soon warmed to him (“he’s so cute!” she exclaimed at one point, and laughed at his misadventures throughout the house). As the film revealed the mental and emotional connection between Elliott and E.T., she put it together really quickly — it’s worth noting how good the script and the film are at making this particular sci-fi concept work for younger audiences. When E.T. was dying, I looked over and saw tears streaming down her face (“”is E.T. really dead?” she asked, and I didn’t spoil anything but told her to trust me; the movie has a happy ending). When he came back to life, she immediately perked back up and was on the edge of her seat for 20 minutes. There were tears as Elliott and E.T. said goodbye, but they were happier tears. And as the spaceship took off and the Williams’ score hit its crescendo, she erupted in applause.
Most movies these days, especially big-budget studio blockbusters, are content to distract and dazzle us. They’re loud and filled with spectacle; they’re funny and fast-paced, eager to take us on a ride. But how many mainstream movies these days truly want us to go on an emotional journey? How many modern studio films ask us to feel something? When’s the last time the most popular movie in the world asked us to laugh, cry and believe with childlike wonder again?
E.T. is a miracle movie. I think much of the reason I still love film as an adult is because this was my earliest engagement with the form. That mixture of humor, terror and awe is what I’ve been chasing for 40 years when I go to the movies, and when you come across it, it’s a rare thing. After 40 years, this movie is still perfect, and I love that there’s a new generation that can discover it and feel the magic all over again.
Idris Elba punches a lion
Over at CinemaNerdz, you can read my latest review, for the Idris Elba-led survival-thriller, Beast. I don’t think it’s a masterpiece, but for its first hour it’s a tense and lean ride. Even when it devolves into silliness in its final act, it’s still worth watching. And yes, Idris Elba gets in a knife fight with a lion.
Coming (back) soon: Spielberg Sundays
A few years back, when I was writing for another site, I attempted to go through Steven Spielberg’s entire filmography, and I continued it here for a bit. After awhile, in an attempt to cover some other things, I fell out of it, ending with Empire of the Sun. I’ve wanted to go back for awhile, but wasn’t sure how to properly balance it with Franchise Fridays, some series I want to do at Halloween and Christmas, and writing about other things.
But I think I found a solution; we’re going to pace ourselves. While I thought about restarting the series and going straight through to November to coincide with the release of the director’s latest, The Fablemans, I’m going to go slow. We’ll do several weeks when I don’t have another miniseries to cover, and then we’ll pause to go through that, and then pick back up. For instance, we’ll go through four films in September, stop in October to go through a Halloween-related series, and then pick up again in November. When we finish, we finish.
So, starting Sunday, September 4, I’ll be launching Spielberg Sundays. In September, we’ll go through Always, Hook, Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List, which will actually be a great place to pause before picking up again in November with The Lost World and Amistad. That entire week will actually be the week we start getting back into high gear with this newsletter, as I’ll have another piece midweek (I don’t know about what yet) and then we’ll relaunch Franchise Fridays on September 9, with a look at Soderbergh’s Ocean’s 11.
In the meantime, I’ve still got stuff coming over the next two weeks. I’ll have a TV-related post in a few days, there’s an interview I have in the works that I’m hoping to finish later this week, a very personal post coming in late August, and Perry and I are still planning for one more We’re Watching Here before Labor Day, and I think the topic we have in mind is going to lead to one of our best discussions yet. But if the rhythm is just a tad helter-skelter, a lot of it will be because I’m watching and writing things to get ready for this September, when I think Chrisicisms is going to really get fun. So, as always, thanks for subscribing, and keep reading!
Also, if you want to get a jump on Spielberg Sundays, here are the links to all the previous essays in this series: