At face value, it's essentially a reworking of a very basic and somewhat familiar formula - a coming-of-age story about a boy coming to terms with the realities of the world. The narrative on its own digs even deeper, hitting a very personal chord for many viewers with its tale of friendship and a its push for tolerance. Either way, it's a brilliant show of Spielberg's genius behind the camera to acutely reflect the emotion of the story. We can read more into this, if one so wishes, or simply take it as another creative feature to a wonderful classic. It's not until Coyote's character and his ominous agenda force their way into the family home, like an intrusive invasion upon a child's imagination, that other adults suddenly come into existence. Mom isn't as imposing as "Keys" and her company brings comfort. Their presence outside of the home is one of authority, and while they're always there, they're never really seen.
The other grown-ups, including the science teacher, are faceless figures, like something out of Charlie Brown. The reason mom can be seen is because the kids not only have direct contact with her, but because she shares in their pain of dad's absence and in some ways there is a child-like quality about her. We get an idea of why Spielberg is doing this when Elliot tries to convince his younger sister Gertie (Drew Barrymore) that only kids can see the alien, essentially implying that the story's point of view is from their perspective of the world. Throughout the film, Elliot's mom (Dee Wallace) is the only adult whose face is ever seen for the first half of the movie. On a more thoughtful and skilled level, the cool camera device and recurring motif is actually part of a grander scheme, an allusion to one of the plot's more insightful themes. And look no further for the most imaginative use of the camera than in his treatment of Peter Coyote's mysterious government agent, known only by the key rings hanging from his belt and the chiming sounds they make. in the backyard, where Spielberg alternates between a variety of shots, clearly expressing the boy's fear and panic, and we're right there with him, experiencing the moment. The most memorable is Elliot's first actual meeting of E.T. From lens flares and the beautiful, colorful cinematography of Allen Daviau, the film is an endless array of shots which actually facilitate an emotional response from viewers as well as enhance a particular scene. Only, here, he seems to further explore what could be accomplished with the camera and ultimately perfected his unique approach, one which came to define the 80s style of moviemaking. The fact that the film can still work its magic and be just as effective as ever is a testament to the work done by the filmmakers and of Spielberg's mastery of the craft.įollowing one box-office success after another (except, of course, for the cult favorite comedy '1941'), Spielberg inserted that same level of awe-inspiring excitement and child-like wonder he achieved in ' Raiders of the Lost Ark' the prior year.
The bizarre alien creature that awkwardly wobbles from a tool shed towards a terrified Elliot (Henry Thomas) with Reese's Pieces candy in hand looks just as ugly and strange as the first time audiences saw it, but in the capable, brilliant hands of Steven Spielberg, the weird puppet, animatronic or little person inside a costume becomes an extraordinary and surprisingly believable being we soon grow to care for and even wish to be a part of our own lives.
Thirty years since its initial theatrical run, the story of the friendship between a boy and an extra-terrestrial still manages to bring me to tears.
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