E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
Screenwriter: Melissa Mathison
Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Henry Thomas (Elliott), Drew Barrymore (Gertie, the sister), Dee Wallace (Mary the mom), Robert MacNaughton (Michael, the brother), E.T. (Matthew De Meritt and beyond)
Dear Steven,
I had to look up your name real quick to find out if you are Steven with a “v” or Steven with a “ph.” I was right on the first try. You are Steven with a V.
I have had an interesting week, and so much of life is interesting when you wake up and start breathing and stopping and noticing things. When you feel your feelings, and take your space, and let love be your guiding force and not cultural addictions or appropriations or ideas or biases.
For instance, all of our lives seem to be attached to this technology jawn. And who is in charge of all of that? Who has access and can see what they want to see, and do what they want to do? I don’t know those people. I don’t know if I trust them. I don’t know that I want them having access to all my personal information. It used to be, we had a rolodex, and an address book with phone numbers and addresses. We kept this information in our homes or offices, and we had keys that locked the doors to protect what we held sacred. And we wrote people letters, and they kept those letters in boxes somewhere, in their closet, to peruse when they were cleaning or relocating. The same goes for photos.
I think you came up for me as someone to pay attention to this week because you are a father, and I would dare call you, a “father of cinema.” Perhaps I should be more specific, and say you are a “father of modern cinema.”
I think what excels in your films is that you are invisible. Your work is not about your ego. It is about the story. You are behind the camera, and you let people shine, and you let the truth of the story sing. The story is all, and you are just the orchestrator. It is as though you stand with those sticks at the front of the band and you see and watch and know what is going on, and you sense it all, and you help people show up in a way that excels. It is this invisibility that makes you who you are in the film industry.
Years ago, I used to watch Oprah a lot with my mom and sometimes my grandmother. I loved watching Oprah at 4 pm every day. I looked forward to it. When I had to go home alone after school, I put on Oprah, and it felt like family was in the room. Later, when I was teaching high school, and went to see my grandmother after work, we watched Oprah and talked during commercial breaks. Oprah does something similar to you. She remains invisible and allows people to shine. And so, once, on her show, I think I learned that your wife told you that you had to come home for dinner every night even while you were shooting a film. Your wife said that it didn’t matter what film you were doing, and it didn’t matter any excuse you had. She expected you at dinner nightly. And you listened.
Damn, Steven, how did you get so lucky, to have a wife like that? A wife who knows what is most important? That is, I suspect, why you are the name you are today. And I saw The Fabelmans, and I know that your upbringing wasn’t perfect. Still, you got lucky with that lady.
So let’s talk about E.T.
I was three years old when E.T. came out. I remember seeing it in the theater and it filling my heart. And I watched it again this week because something was knocking on my third-eye’s door that whispered, “Steven. Steven.” And E.T. is a story that can really help us all today. First, the little boy’s face is just adorable and perfect—Elliott. He is just so precious and boyish. And hopeful. And his eyes light up. And there is something so comforting to me about him and his brother and sister—these three kids and their house, and sibling battles, and the tired blonde mom who is just trying to keep it together in the absence of a father. The mom who so clearly loves her kids and is tired. (I did notice she wears some knee-high sexy boots to work. So there is always more to a mom than we give credit for.) And there are also the bikes, and kids riding on bikes, and getting around on bikes, and figuring out the world for themselves, and using their bikes to help them manage everything.
How does an alien have eyes with such empathy? How did the designer do that? I wrote down the guy’s name, and then I lost the paper with his name on it. There are so many people who contribute to films being made. So many little details that we as viewers take for granted, and so those people are invisible, too, in a way, to most of us.
What struck me most watching E.T. this time was the way that through a heart connection, Elliott and E.T. become a “we.” What happens to E.T. happens to Elliott, and what happens to Elliott, happens to E.T. This is so true to life and human experience, but for most of us, it is imperceptible. It is only through chance or divine healing or some hard-core discipline and inner work on ourselves that we begin to discover that whatever we wish on someone else, we are also wishing on ourselves. Whatever happens to someone else through our common connection, happens to us as well. Whatever we do to another, we are doing to ourselves. We as life forms are all united through this—what I would call—kristos energy. It is like a piece of bread. It is the root and foundation and substance that connects living things. And what is strange about E.T. the movie is that it is able to point this out about humanity, while using a creature that is not human. All the interactions between these beings—the kids and the extra-terrestrial—are authentic and genuine. And at root there is love and a desire to learn and vibe and connect with another person.
There are those guys with the suits who want to get E.T. and study him, and also listen to all the conversations being had in the house, and they are really sneaky about everything. I guess that is part of life. But if you are a kid with a lot of heart, and you have a bike and some friends who are inspired by you, and you want to save someone or something—well, the guys in the suits just can’t keep up, can they?
It also helps if your extra-terrestrial can fly, I suppose. I am not sure Elliott would have been able to get E.T. home and safe if E.T. didn’t help him and his friends fly.
If I had to find a metaphor of this movie for the modern day, I would say it is about connecting with a stranger. Maybe it is a little scary at first, because you come from what feels like different planets. But with some tenderness and kindness, you can experience great love and share your gifts, and help one another in magical ways.
I feel like Elliott sometimes, and I feel like E.T. I am that one, and that one. We are.
This screenwriter, Melissa Mathison, really knew something, didn’t she?
Happy Father’s Day, S.S. Thanks for doing it the way you do it.
Sincerely,
Ms. Wonderful
ATTENTION READERS!
My best friend McGraw and I are now doing the Ms. Wonderful Film Club podcast. Please check it out and subscribe on Spotify here.
(If you want to help us with the tech on this one, I will make you a martini and a meal or two. Tech is not my forte.)
Our theme this summer is Hawke Summer. We are going to be talking about the actor Ethan Hawke and his literary movies, because we were both literature majors in college and that is how we met. We’ll be coming to you twice a month starting the last week in June to cover the following Ethan Hawke films:
Dead Poets Society
Hamlet
Great Expectations
Wildcat (brand new, with Ethan Hawke as director and his daughter Maya as the Flannery O’Connor)
AND…we may throw in another literary movie of his here or there if we busy ladies can find the time! :)
Follow along for this jawn de jawn from the Mid-Atlantic while you’re in your car or making dinner or scrubbing your floors or whatever….
Our focus for each film is perspective, story, and being.