Accounts of the early development of, and inspiration for, Spielberg's wonderful E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial talk of two early ideas that merged into one. The first was the idea of a thriller about aliens called Night Skies, involving aliens menacing a farmhouse, which included a subplot about an alien being left behind on Earth. The second was a nebulous idea about a film based on the life of children. The latter idea seems to have gone through many incarnations, being referred to variously as Clearwater, After School, Growing Up, and A Boy's Life. Some of these may nominally have been considered separate projects (Clearwater seems to have been based on a treatment by Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins, while Growing Up was a Robert Zemeckis / Bob Gale script), but the common thread was that Spielberg wanted to do a small scale, intimate film about children. The greatness of E.T. can be linked to its origins in this premise: it works so well because it would be an interesting movie even without the alien.

It's the focus on the lives of these children that separates E.T. from its interesting but less successful predecessor Close Encounters. In many ways, E.T. is a companion piece to, or reworking of, that movie. Both films centre on encounters with extra-terrestrials that appear frightening at first, but turn out to be friendly. Both feature a character who forms some sort of psychic connection with the aliens, and both work up to a conclusion in which humans and aliens bond before the alien ship departs. Yet Close Encounters is a cold and cynical movie: it takes a harsh view of its hero's home life, and at film's end it celebrates his decision to sever all ties with his family and leave the Earth. E.T.'s conclusion lacks the razzle-dazzle of Close Encounters, but it's infinitely warmer. The communication is no longer done by computers: it is done directly between aliens and humans who have become friends, using a few words and touch. And when offered the choice to leave, the young hero Elliot, although torn, knows that he must stay with his family.

This humanity suffuses E.T.. I can never understand those who paint the film as sentimental or manipulative: with the exception of one awkward and overwrought moment (when Elliot tells E.T. that he loves him), I think it's Spielberg's most sincere film. That's because Spielberg is so confident in exploring these children's lives. Nobody has ever directed young actors as consistently well as Spielberg, and here (working from a superior script by Melissa Mathison) he creates an uncannily real portrayal of the lives of pre-teens. Henry Thomas, Robert MacNaughton, and Drew Barrymore are totally natural as the three central characters, and the film is full of perceptive details about life at that age: Elliot's animation of his toys, the older boys teasing of their sister, the gulf in understanding between children and adults, and the helplessness and frustration that comes from relying on them. Cinematographer Allen Daviau infuses this all with a warm, nostalgic glow, and watching the film is like immersing yourself in the most pleasurable of childhood memories. Interestingly, the film is set in fairly bleak urban fringe Californian suburbia, but Spielberg captures the way that for children, such a setting can become a wonderland full of magical possibilities.

It is this sense of youthful adventure that makes the film so special for me: the adventure these children embark on could have been anything, and I would still be interested. That said, the relationship between E.T. and Elliot is beautifully, subtly drawn. That Spielberg brings such reality to a character created using puppets and animatronics is remarkable. (This film could not have been made as well using modern computer effects, since the interaction between the children and the E.T. puppet is central to establishing the rapport between them). The climactic sequence, in which Elliot and his friends try to get E.T. back to his ship, is superbly directed and scored, making a simple chase sequence (kids on bicycles) very exciting. And the final farewell between the children and E.T. is at once extremely uplifting, sad, and profoundly moving.

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For version notes about the 1982 version versus the the 2002 cut, click here.