Be good.

Never as much fun as this.

I watched E.T. again for the first time in...I don't know, decades?  I enjoyed it but sort of disapprove, or rather I'm filled with awe and respect sort of the way the robot is filled with respect for the monster in Alien.¹  Two thoughts, the first of them related:

(1)  The movie is extremely well done and extremely effective, and yet somehow in a deep sense total garbage.  I believe I'm responsible for making up the term high supermarket; E.T. is high Hollywood, by which I mean that it is just about as good as an enormous studio film can be without transcending that.

    Some big Hollywood movies that are not in any sense "independent" end up transcending Hollywood and entering into what you might call, more grandly, film, or even art—Casablanca is one, I'd say—but E.T. does not do that.  Essentially it is manipulative rather than expressive, say—sentimental rather than honest, dazzling rather than true.

    Examples:  a. The boy and the alien are both basically adorable, but do we ever actually see a relationship form between them, or do we just accept it on the basis of their being so adorable and the movie's being so huge and absorbing?  If I try to think about the essence of their relationship, I think either of the very beginning (the boy explaining humanity to the alien exactly the way a little kid might: using action figures) or the end (crying, hugging, "I love you"), but I can't quite see how you get from one to the other—and I just watched the damned movie a few days ago.  b. The older brother at one point says, "You keep talking about we all the time," and later he explains that Elliott feels E.T.'s feelings, but these things are never established (or rather the dialogue itself establishes it, sloppily); similarly, he says, "You know, E.T.'s not looking that good, Elliott," and we're like—he isn't?   c. The family life resonates, particularly in the first scenes, but it's nothing but a tool to make us sympathize with Elliott (and to make us forgive the mother for being so oblivious: she's going through a lot, people, her husband ran off with some bimbo to Mexico!²).

    That said, that said—it's hard to watch E.T. and not to think Spielberg's a master.  Maybe not the kind of master I'd prefer, maybe a master who helps usher in a universe of crappy film, but a master nonetheless.  And lemme just say, lemme just be clear, here: I [heart] E.T.³  You want to watch it with me?  Let's make a date.  [But it's got to be the version with the rifles and with "penis breath."]

(2)  Is it just me, or is there something incredibly poignant about the end of that movie from a, like, metacinematic perspective?  Most obviously there's E.T. telling old Gertie to "BE GOOD" (which by the way it doesn't really make any sense that he would understand, since the "BE" came from his mindlessly repeating the letter B while she was watching Sesame Street—side note: E.T. is a fucking idiot, I'm sorry, I know he built that radio transmitter from an umbrella and a Speak & Spell and a fork, but I think he just got lucky and those bug friends of his were coming back anyway because E.T. clearly doesn't have a brain in his head)—but so can anyone who knows the history of Drew Barrymore's childhood and teenage years not sort of want to cry out to his television screen, "No, Gertie, seriously: listen to the man from the moon"?

    And once you get started thinking about that, you might start to think that E.T.'s return home is WAY more depressing than it initially seems.  Look at poor Elliott: sure, E.T. croaks out, "I'LL BE HERE," and that's sweet (and, yeah, you can be goddamned sure Elliott's never going to forget his special goblin friend⁴), but the end of the movie basically signifies the end of the 45 minutes in which this poor kid's life had any meaning or value at all.  Right?  Now back to our regular depressing scheduled programming.  Dad's still in Mexico, now E.T.'s on the special Botanist Planet, too, and old Elliott's got a reputation for going nuts in Science class.  And how many people know the name of the actor who played Elliott, is sort of what I'm sprayin' here?

    The rosy-eyed Hollywood summary of the movie would probably involve something about E.T.'s bringing "magic" into the lives of this "broken" family—but then doesn't he take it right back out again?  And Elliott's not exactly going to be getting a lot of ass later in life telling people he spent a weekend once with a friendly potato from outer space.⁵

    So I'm tempted to say the real emotional weight of this movie lies not in their connection but in its loss...

 

All downhill from here.

¹ Alligators in the sewers.

² Where's Mexico?

³ I don't like his feet.

⁴ Is he a pig?  He sure eats like one.

⁵ Gimme a break!