E.T. the Extra Terrestrial (Henry Thomas, Dee Wallace)
Few movie experiences have stayed with me longer than when my dad first took me to the theatres to see E.T. when it came out in 1982. It managed to scare me, make me laugh, and make me cry all at once. Twenty years later, what's remarkable about this box office smash is that it still manages to do all three of these things. Granted, I've had the chance to revisit the picture many times since then, so I don't physically cry anymore, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that my throat dries up and my heart sinks every time I see that pivotal scene when two figures are side by side on hospital stretchers. One of the figures is the little alien E.T., and the other is his best friend Elliott; the scene remains a real chest-stabber every time I see it.
E.T. has recently seen a re-release, and what's amazed me most about the recent two-decade anniversary is not the number of discussions on how good it is, but the amount of criticism I've come across on how bad it is. Some of my favourite reviewers have posted mediocre, lukewarm responses to the movie, which I never would have expected. The general public may even be in agreement -- the redux version came in third at the box office and doesn't show signs of much repeat business. Has Spielberg's big hit become dated, or was it merely overrated to begin with? It's a tough question, because the movie's message is so simple and unassuming that it perhaps borders on being exempt from analysis.
I tend to think the current backlash from people isn't really a stab against the movie itself, but more of a reflection on the number of family movies that have come along since then. E.T. is available at any corner video store, and so are all the Disney revival movies that have flooded the screens from 1988 onward, plus the onslaught of computer animated releases from the past seven years. Also, Spielberg first set a trend with E.T. in his movies of blatant emotional manipulation that would eventually characterize his later releases (Hook, Always, and particularly Saving Private Ryan). Spielberg himself has said that his directing career has split into two paths from 1982 onward; his personal, emotional work and his high-jolt, entertainment work.
The movie opens with a curious-looking alien that is left behind when his own kind accidentally leaves him in a forest near a suburban area. The critter befriends a boy named Elliott (Henry Thomas), who hides him in his room for their mutual safety. Eventually, Elliott's sister Gertie (Drew Barrymore) and his brother Michael (Robert McNaughton) are in on the secret too, but they become concerned when they notice the alien (now dubbed E.T.) and Elliott now appear telepathically linked, and they are growing ill by the hour. The second half of the movie races by as E.T. is eventually discovered by scientists and the children struggle to keep the little alien safe.
Part of the magic of the film is its background quirks. In one scene, we hear the story of Tinkerbell, who needs to hear clapping in order to come back to life again. In another scene, E.T. is communicating with Gertie, but just behind them the television is tuned to Sesame Street, where Big Bird is talking about aliens visiting from other planets. And it is not until the scientists are able to see E.T. as a living, sentient creature in pain that they remove their masks and we finally see adult faces for the first time in the film (Elliott's mom excluded).
Thomas's portrayal of Elliott is a naturalistic example of how a boy might actually react if he took home a stray pet. His performance is key to the movie, and Thomas is helped along by the fact that writer Melissa Matheson makes him an intelligent, three-dimensional character with convictions and an articulate demeanour. Barrymore is cute and flamboyant as the bratty little sister, and it is curious that McNaughton's performance as the older brother is the least consistent of the three. He always seems to be playing catch up. In a smaller role, Dee Wallace is quite engaging as the mother and Peter Coyote is good as the scientist who could conceivably be regarded as an adult version of Elliott.
The look of E.T. himself is very believable, and contributed greatly to the film's overall success. But Spielberg has managed to tell a story that transcends effects and breaks barriers. His tale of a lonely boy, whose parents have just divorced, is a powerful one. Elliott just wants a friend, and his friendship with E.T. is one of the most magical in all of film history. As for those lukewarm reactions, it may be easy to find reasons to dislike E.T., but I find it a lot easier to find reasons to love it.
