E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL - 4K UHD Blu-ray (Universal 1982) Universal Home Video

Like Hitchcock, the genius of Steven Spielberg has been oft’ undervalued, or rather, woefully taken for granted in his own time. In his formative years, Spielberg’s name became so synonymous with a consistently high level of story-telling that, gradually, the movie industry and his fans simply became blasĂ© about it. Genius was expected rather than anticipated. For decades, Spielberg did not disappoint us at the movies. Thus, when our interpretations of his work occasionally fell short of those expectations the criticism of the work itself – and critical backlash to some of his previous monuments – became fodder for the grist mill. But re-reviewing E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (1982) illustrates a fundamental about Spielberg’s movie-making prowess in totem, abundantly on display herein, that cannot be refuted. Even at its most perceivably flawed, his movies are never anything less than utterly fascinating, thought-provoking – and, in E.T.’s case – magically enduring, beyond virtually most any expectancy. To see E.T. for the first time is to be teleported to, and then transfixed by, the heart and mind of a visionary, so intuitively in focus with his inner child (and, by extension, the child within us all) one can only sit back and marvel at the breadth of Spielberg’s unbridled innocence.
To classify it as charm’ alone is a grotesque debasement of Spielberg’s natural gifts to American cinema. Spielberg’s craft plums; then, extrapolates the rawness of unfettered human emotion. This is always more intensely realized in the ‘firsts’ of childhood when the world and all its revelations are new, and therefore, inevitably amplified. The trick and the genius of E.T. is it remains, after all these years, one of the most exhilarating concoctions of childhood fantasy; easily resurrecting the flame of our inner youth – the connection so unabashedly tugging at heartstrings and so transparently ‘theatrical’, in the very best sense of that word, our suspension of disbelief is enriched and fortified. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus after all…and little toe-headed khaki-green-colored men from outer space, at least as far as Spielberg is concerned. Spielberg’s sleight of hand here is impossibly on point, his creativity firmly affixed to the pulse of the public with such assuredness, it can be easily overlooked or even discarded as commonplace.   
Spielberg has always suggested the concept for E.T. derived from his own imaginary playmate he concocted after his parent’s divorce in 1960. From here, the idea continued to fester even as the boy grew into manhood, and, the man eventually began to hone his film maker’s craft on other ‘more adult’ themed sci-fi adventures; each building on his reputation as a master craftsman with a very distinctive style. While shooting Raiders of the Lost Ark, Spielberg shared his preliminary concept for E.T. with screenwriter, Melissa Mathison who began ironing out the details to help crystalize Spielberg’s many fanciful concepts for what would eventually morph into the final vision for E.T. Conceiving the project was one thing. Executing it proved an entirely different and far more complex matter. After several false starts, the character of E.T. evolved into a patchwork of puppetry, mechanical and rubber appliances, some operated by midgets, others employing invisible wires and hydraulics; all in an attempt to breathe life into this whimsical visitor from another world. Spielberg also tapped into the imagination of the ages with his clever blending of these pre-digital tools. Instinctively, he must have known that unless his cast was exactly ‘bang on’ in conveying their belief in this character, his movie was dead in the water. Like all great works of art, Spielberg’s picture-making took dead aim at the merit of a diverse cultural cross section and, more intently – the teen market. This, alas, went partly against the grain of his contemporaries (Coppola, Lucas, Scorsese) thought to be making more ‘personal’ statements on celluloid. Thus, when E.T. had its premiere it was endlessly critiqued as everything from a ‘spiritual autobiography’ and ‘self-portrait’ to a social commentary on pre-teen alienation in America with frequent references to its theme of ‘home’ brusquely likened to such cinematic touchstones as Peter Pan and The Wizard of Oz.
Yet the film does not represent ‘home’ – at least in its earthly form - as some white picket fenced demesne no child would ever wish to leave, given half the chance and more than an ounce of ambition and opportunity. Elliot’s home life is hardly dysfunctional beyond normal feelings of inadequacy and the usual bits of humiliation perpetuated on him by an older brother, along with potential annoyances from a younger sister. But it isn’t perfect either. And like Spielberg’s own misshapen childhood perhaps, it is without a father figure; a void, the alien star child left behind by his intergalactic species will strangely come to fill for Elliot before the final reel. E.T. is allegorically Spielberg’s reflection on this childhood abandonment, using the reverse psychology of an alien accidentally left on earth (when conventional film-making might have shown a human child stranded on a planetoid in a galaxy far, far away). In depriving us of the exotic premise, Spielberg instead presents us with a naturalistic snapshot of suburbia; its familiarity for the human audience creating its connection between ‘us’ and ‘them’; our empathy with the alien life-force threatened by the big, bad FBI agents. The creature, E.T. begins in our estimation as this foreign entity, oddly shaped and incommunicable at the start. The relationship built between Elliot and E.T. during these formative scenes is as ‘master’ and ‘pet’. Miraculously, Spielberg manages to transform this understanding into a position of equals; the alien and the boy brought closer into focus simultaneously; comparatively even, as siblings, each suffering through their own separation anxieties.      
As scripted by Melissa Mathison, the film begins deep in a California forest with a group of alien botanists collecting flora samples to take back to their planet. The youngest from this expedition, E.T. has strayed too far from the mother ship. Hence, when government agents descend upon the forest, called in to investigate mysterious lights in the night, E.T. is left behind by his family. To escape capture this alien child flees and then stumbles into middle-class suburbia, taking refuge inside a tool shed behind one of the homes. Inside the main house, Elliot (Henry Thomas) and his brother Michael (Robert MacNaughton) are entertaining friends who have decided to order a pizza. When the delivery truck arrives, Michael sends Elliot to pay for their food. However, upon his return up the walk, Elliot notices someone – or something – is hiding in the shed. Tossing his baseball inside, Elliot is startled when the ball comes back to him. No one really believes Elliot and after the party disbands, he sneaks back out to the shed, luring E.T. up to his bedroom by laying a track of Reese’s Pieces for him to follow.  A strange bond develops between Elliot and E.T. The alien begins to mimic Elliot’s movements.
The next morning, Elliot feigns a fever to stay home and play with his new ‘pet’. Now, the boy attempts to educate his alien cohort in the decidedly more primitive and perhaps even corrupting ways of the human world, introducing him to television, human food and alcoholic drink. These firsts will later have hilarious repercussions for both Elliot and E.T. But on this afternoon, Elliot presents Michael with his new playmate. The two agree Gertie (Drew Barrymore) must not find out about E.T. Predictably, and rather hilariously, she does. In one of the best loved and most fondly remembered scenes from the film, Gertie bursts into Elliot’s bedroom, discovers E.T. in her midst and, momentarily terrorized by the sight of him, lets out a blood-curdling scream.  This frightens E.T. as well, and Gertie suddenly realizes she and the alien have at least this much in common – fear. The children are fascinated when E.T. levitates several balls into the air, representing his solar system. The creature furthermore demonstrates his powers by reviving a dead house plant. Alas, the life-force evolving between Elliot and E.T. begins to develop an unexpected psychic – even psychological – connection when E.T., left to his own accord, consumes an entire six pack of beer and begins to flip channels on the TV. The programming he views becomes part of Elliot’s thoughts; the boy, suddenly driven to liberate a bunch of biology class frogs from the school’s science lab before copying John Wayne’s kiss in The Quiet Man with an unsuspecting girl from his class. 
E.T. continues his education through Gertie’s appreciation of Sesame Street. However, after reading one of Elliot’s old Buck Rogers comics, E.T. figures out a way to communicate his desire to Elliot to return home. Reluctantly, Elliot realizes E.T. cannot stay and be his friend on earth forever. He must return to his own kind and soon, before his life-force weakens. In the movie’s MacGyver-esque moment, Elliot tears apart his Speak and Spell and a few other toys to help E.T. construct a communication device to signal his parent’s ‘mother ship’. On Halloween, Elliot, Gertie and Michael disguise E.T. as a ghost so they can smuggle him out of the house and into the nearby forest. Elliot and E.T. go deep into the dark woods where Elliot uses their makeshift communication apparatus to send a message into outer space. Elliot falls asleep, awakening the next morning to discover E.T. lying next to him and quite ill. Having intercepted Elliot’s primitive communique, FBI agents and a hazmat team invade suburbia, claiming the family’s home as their base of operations. Almost in tandem, Elliot realizes he too has begun to suffer the same malignant effects of the illness plaguing E.T.; their bond of friendship jeopardizing each other.   
Government scientists descend upon Elliot’s home, setting up a quarantine unit where they proceed to probe E.T. As E.T.’s condition worsens, Elliot begins his slow recovery. E.T. appears to die. Grief-stricken, Elliot mourns the loss, only to discover E.T. is still very much alive. While the FBI men and their hazmat entourage continue to belabor their next move, Elliot and Michael skillfully smuggle E.T. out of harm’s way; E.T., using his telekinetic powers to levitate them past the FBI’s blockade and propel them deep into the neighboring forest. There, Elliot, Michael and Gertie, still clutching the resurrected houseplant, discover the mother ship docked and patiently awaiting E.T.’s return. Gertie gives E.T. a kiss and the plant as her parting gift. As E.T.’s life-force glows stronger still, Elliot says his own panged and tearful goodbye. E.T. then points to Elliot’s heart and forehead, saying “I’ll be right here.” He board the mother ship as the FBI agents and their team of scientists burst onto the scene, mercifully much too late to stop E.T. from returning home.
At its core E.T. The Extra Terrestrial is an enchanted fable – a peerless example of the fantasy film infused with equal optimism and rank sentiment without ever becoming overly maudlin. Spielberg’s great gift to movie culture has always been his self-possessed insight; knowing precisely when to pause a moment to allow his viewership the luxury of their ‘laughter through tears’ moment; the best kind (and hardest to pull off successfully) emotion. We ‘feel’ E.T. in our bones. Spielberg’s connection with our collective childhood translates into a fundamental plug-in to our hearts – not surprisingly, our most illogical and unreliable appendage. The central theme of tolerance, despite a separation of light years, speaks on a socio-political level that never becoming preachy or self-serving. E.T. is not a message picture per say, and yet it has been interpreted within a good many socio-political critiques (some implied, some foisted upon its narrative); all attesting to the verisimilitude of Spielberg’s craftsmanship as a film maker. The picture would be nothing at all without Henry Thomas’ exquisitely nuanced performance as Elliot; his ability to make the rest of us believe in the kinetic quality of this relationship with, what is, after all, nothing more than an audio-animatronic puppet.
And despite its lack of perceived ‘sophistication’, in an era when digital SFX were not even a thought, much less attempted, Carlo Rambaldi’s miraculous animatronics, superbly half-lit by cinematographer, Allen Daviau, and, married to Rambaldi’s inspiration, gleaned from the likeness of Carl Sandburg, Albert Einstein and Ernest Hemingway, has breathed life into E.T.’s inanimate body. Still, it is Henry Thomas who gives the creature life, or rather, our sphere of reference to discover it within this latex shell. It is one of the most tender and understated performances of any child star before or since, filled with ample humility, compassion, and, understanding; enough to take what is essentially his solo performance, and spread its potency across two characterizations: two…uh…people. Surpassing the meteoric box office of Lucas’ Star Wars (1977), on its relatively miniscule $10, 500,000, E.T. earned back an estimated $435,110,554 in the United States alone. E.T. would remain the undisputed record holder in worldwide box office grosses until James Cameron’s Titanic (1997) eclipsed it. The critics were as ‘over the moon’ in their accolades and plaudits. Yet, despite a whopping 9 Academy Award nominations, E.T. won only 4 Oscars – virtually all in minor categories; outclassed – if not outperformed - by Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi. At least Spielberg could take comfort in his $500,000 weekly paycheck under his profit-sharing agreement with Universal. He could also be well-assured his ‘forever’ place within the cinema firmament as one of the all-time great directors of the 20th century.
In 2002, it was believed (at least within the front offices of Universal and Amblin Entertainment) E.T. had dated – rather badly; Spielberg, recalled to create a ‘special edition’ with digitally inserted SFX. While relatively skillful in his tweaks, Spielberg was to incur purists’ wrath when he also elected to digitally scrub the FBI agents’ shotguns and pistols as they chase after Elliot, E.T., and Michael, replaced with innocuous walkie-talkies. What has been released to UHD Blu-ray now is the original theatrical cut – guns reinstated - and looking resplendent in 4K to mark the picture’s 35th Anniversary. Applying High Dynamic Range to the color grade, what we get is an image of extraordinary depth, clarity and sharpness, appearing indigenous to its photo-chemical roots. I recall so well when traditional Blu-ray first debuted, a rather insincere push by all of the studios to ‘remaster’ their movies so they bore a rather gaudy and homogenized appeal of a Mexican fiesta on Olvera Street. Happily, E.T. in 4K has not suffered such indignation.   
It still looks like a movie made in 1982; with bolder, richer, more fully-saturated colors, perhaps, except now with a resolved palette of natural-appearing grain – a tad more heavily resolved during SFX shots (as it should be), and, with important tweaks to greatly enhanced its overall resolution, and hence, image clarity. You are going to love what you see here – or rather, what you have been missing all of these years. Apart from several milky grey blacks, contrast is practically ‘pitch perfect’ with solid shadow delineation. Effects photography remains well-concealed; no jarring examples of ‘dated’ SFX.  Uni has also given us a brand new English DTS audio mix, very atmospheric with sound effects and John Williams’ score sounding grand. Finally Universal has packed away the 1080p Blu-ray of the theatrical cut, along with deleted scenes, an extensive ‘look back’, ‘The E.T. Journals’, ‘The Evolution of E.T., a reunion featurette, another on the score, snippets from the 20th Anniversary screening, and no less than six galleries of production design, photos and marketing, plus the original theatrical trailer and Special Olympics TV spot.  Bottom line: E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial is a cultural touchstone.  For those too young to have seen it the way I did, on the big screen as a child and with Spielberg’s wide-eyed optimism working its infectious magic on a ‘sold-out’ audience comprised mostly of my peers, I genuinely feel sorry for you. It was a hell of a good time to be growing up at the movies. Despite the modern age of ‘sophisticated’ special effects, there has been nothing quite like E.T. The Extra Terrestrial. It continues to appeal to the young and the young in heart. I sincerely pray it always shall.  
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS

4

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