Every filmmaker has their defining works, and some of them establish themselves as such important voices in the medium, their films can run the gamut from underrated to woefully overpraised. In the case of Steven Spielberg, everyone has a different opinion as to what precisely represents his best work, and the criteria usually range from how well he captures a specific tone, the extent to which he captures the spirit of a genre or how much we can connect with the material. The latter is usually cited as the reason for E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial being selected as a personal favourite, with his charming story of a lonely young boy who befriends a benevolent alien that was stranded on Earth being one of the most beloved works of not only his career, but of the entire 1980s, which saw many films captivate generations of viewers, who were enthralled by the blend of adventure and science fiction, both of which have often been credited to this film for helping pioneer for a particular group of viewers. Unfortunately, the praise is not universal, as some of us have never quite connected with this story – whether it is some of the very striking, disturbing imagery that frightens younger viewers, or the fact that it is not as well-defined or complex as it seems to be in theory, E.T. is a deeply flawed film, and one that I have avoided revisiting for years, primarily because of personal issues I had with it during my first viewing in my younger years. This attempt to find value in the film did not yield the results that I was expecting, since time and maturity didn’t nullify the shortcomings that previously weighed it down, but did the inverse in the form of showing that not only is it not as effective in terms of family-oriented fare as we may imagine, it is not all that well-made overall, being a mediocre assemblage of ideas and emotions, neither of which work particularly well and ultimately underline some of the less-ideal details that we usually find becoming quite challenging whenever the subject of Spielberg being one of the essential voices of his generation begin to emerge.

The impetus behind this film is well-documented and doesn’t need to be extensively discussed – essentially, Spielberg was intent on making another film about alien contact after the massive success of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and what was initially proposed as a horror film eventually turned into a more joyful affair once he decided to combine that idea with his own experiences growing up, using an imaginary friend to handle the emotions caused by his parents’ divorce. It’s a heartfelt story and one that is difficult not to find extremely resonant (since the imagination of children is universally considered one of the purest forms of expression), and one that we find isn’t entirely well-captured by this film. The themes that Spielberg and writer Melissa Mathison (who was tasked with taking various fragments of ideas, putting them together in a creative way) were touching on are certainly not revolutionary – E.T. is a coming-of-age drama about a lonely child who finds his confidence in the form of the relationship he forms with an extraterrestrial visitor, with whom he forms a strong connection, the pair teaching one another more than they could have ever anticipated, becoming firm companions and helping inspire one another. It’s not difficult to see the implications of this story, particularly since Spielberg has often made films about unexpected friendships and the beauty that comes in telling stories centring around companionship in its various forms. The science of the film is much less effective, especially since it doesn’t give too much information into the mechanics behind the themes (a stark contrast to the aforementioned Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which was fervent in its attention to detail as far as the scientific information went), and ultimately it doesn’t seem to be all that concerned with plausibility, being more focused on the friendship and childhood storylines more than anything else, which is the first sign that perhaps E.T. needed slightly more work.

There are, unfortunately, far too many aspects of this film – both in terms of its narrative and execution – that leave a lot to be desired. The writing itself is not particularly strong – Mathison is competent, but her inability to properly combine the various aspects of the story (particularly when it came to blending science fiction adventure and coming-of-age drama) does become very clear throughout, which we can credit to the fact that she was essentially handed a series of fragmented ideas drawn from numerous sources, and tasked with creating something cohesive, which is the first sign of impending danger when it came to bringing this story to life. The film is quite badly edited (which is odd, considering Carol Littleton has done a lot of exceptional work, including some of Spielberg’s best films), where entire scenes seemed to be either cut or shortened considerably, leading to a jagged tone in which we are forced to draw our conclusions on subjects that should not be left open to interpretation. However, the biggest flaw of E.T. is its tone – Spielberg has often been criticised (if not outright mocked) for his tendency to resort to schmaltz on far too many occasions, where it seems as if he and his cohorts are working on the principle of believing that force-feeding audiences the most obvious, surface-level emotions will allow them to become fully-invested in what the film is selling. Unfortunately, viewers of all ages need to be given the benefit of the doubt, so regardless of how much he may try and tug on our heartstrings through force, E.T. is not going to be particularly effective if it doesn’t have some substance beneath the surface, which it lacks throughout. It’s quite a shallow film, and the nostalgia we have developed for it has obscured its less-ideal qualities, which tend to be quite bland if we look at them in isolation. The qualities for which Spielberg is often parodied are all found throughout this film, which isn’t particularly meaningful once we divorce the story from the over-saturated emotions that serve very little (if any) real purpose other than to tell us how to feel.

To compensate for the lack of focus, we can at least see that the cast of E.T. was doing their best, even if their performances are not particularly strong. Henry Thomas was a bit of a revelation – he was handed to Spielberg by Jack Fisk, who had worked with him a couple of years before, and while the early scenes where his character is being established do come across as slightly forced, he nonetheless captures our hearts in the latter portions of the film, where his earnest, heartfelt performance does win us over. Unfortunately, the film doesn’t know how to use him all that well, so while he is by far the most memorable actor in the film, the overall experience is nonetheless still a bit disappointing, considering the potential it had to be a truly meaningful story of a young man overcoming various challenges. The supporting cast is competent but not all that memorable – Drew Barrymore is fun as the lovable younger sister, but she doesn’t do anything that special, while Dee Wallace and Robert MacNaughton are solid as the rest of the film, while Peter Coyote does his absolute best with a one-dimensional character that we are led to believe is a villain but in reality is just an older version of the person the protagonist would have become without being introduced to the titular creature. The problem is that so much focus is put on the friendship between the protagonist and his new companion, the supporting players fall by the wayside – there were ample opportunities for this film to elevate itself and create stronger connections between characters, but they ultimately become nothing more than set dressing, designed solely to serve as supporting figures without ever having their arcs, despite the film alluding to some deeper complexities simmering beneath the surface, none of which are ever explored in any significant way, leading to quite a dull and unengaging film.

There is a concept often referred to as the “kill your darlings” principle, which usually applies to situations where we take a work we adore and have to put it in a position where it is somehow disadvantaged, a truly daunting process. What is even more challenging is taking a work that is considered a cherished classic by huge portions of the population, and underlining its flaws in such a way that it can massively go against the status quo in many ways. Unfortunately, E.T. is a film that has long been held in the highest esteemed as a classic, but which I have never fully believed warrants its reputation, and this recent revisiting after many years has only highlighted its deep, unavoidable flaws that unfortunately do get in the way of it even achieving the kind of greatness that we have been told it represents for the past several decades. To use the term “overrated” feels somewhat inappropriate, especially when this is such a personal work for the director (although another one of his weakest efforts is The Fabelmans, which is a similarly intimate work defined by his desire to bring stories of his childhood to life on screen – perhaps he is just not as strong a filmmaker when it comes to bringing his experiences to these stories), but its just difficult to find value in a film where we are consistently told that what we are seeing is supposedly this daring, challenging work when in reality its mildly amusing at the best of time, and is only partially effective when it comes to establishing a clear sense of time and place, instilling a solid sense of wonder but doing very little else. Nearly fifty years later, E.T. has lost its touch – the special effects are iconic but otherwise not all that memorable or innovative (even taking into account the period in which it was made), the characters are thinly-written and the overall experience is not all that enticing anymore, making it very clear that this film is nothing more than a cherished and hopelessly dated remnant of the past.