What modern cinema could learn from ET

周越

Much of Steven Spielberg's filmography is associated with youth. But before all these came ET the Extraterrestrial， which was released in US cinemas 40 years ago. It was his first film to examine childhood directly， and its influence is still felt today in a film culture that tilts evermore towards youth in its focus.

In fact， ET the Extraterrestrial premiered at Cannes Film Festival a couple of weeks earlier， on 26 May 1982， having been selected to close the 35th edition of the prestigious event： Spielberg was not＼|is not＼|an arthouse director， and so a premiere there was far from a given. Yet the movie met with rapturous acclaim from the get＼|go， causing an enormous standing ovation entered straight into the film's legend. The buzz swiftly translated into enormous box office receipts， as the film racked up nearly $360 million from its original US release; to this day， it has earned almost $800 million worldwide . ET ended the 1980s as the US's highest＼|grossing film of the decade.

Spielberg， being in his mid＼|30s at the time of the film， was still relatively close to his subjects in age， which enables him to invest psychologically ＼| that shows in the film's keen emotional impact， as well as in Spielberg's fresh cinematics， particularly the way his camera works at roughly children's head height， investing physically in a child's universe， and his no＼|nonsense， puckish attitude towards children's banter， games and worldview. It feels like the work of older people setting out to manufacture a children's entertainment， with a cute story， a charming young actress， good songs， and the sense of everybody putting on a rollicking good show. All of this being the case， the film nevertheless has an artificial， slightly hokey feel to it nowadays， from its set decoration to the stiff performance of Albert Finney in the role of Daddy Warbucks. In this respect， Annie feels like the death rattle of young people's entertainment of yore， and ET like the birth of a young people's entertainment of the future， that really understands its key audience.

Rewatching the film in 2022， it's certainly the case that the film has kept a fresh and original feel， even as it is clear to see its influence on the contemporary landscape. ET stands out most clearly for the wallop of its sentimental arc， which Spielberg brilliantly contrives from the heartfelt performances he obtains from his child actors， the unashamedly big and heartstring＼|tugging score by John Williams， as well as his facility for ramping up the tension so that the downbeats register all the more intensely. The film's lone aspect that has aged somewhat miffily is its somewhat dubious politics of gender and sexuality： the script's bizarre insistence that ET is male， and a weird scene in which Spielberg， filming things from the alien's perspective， appears to suggest that the alien has a thing for the children's mother， play as old＼|fashioned curiosities in a film that is otherwise very straightforward.

Mostly， the film scores because， as well as daring to literally place itself at its protagonist's height， it doesn't talk down to the child characters： these are children who rebel， who respond to their environment， who have agency in their own world， and whose pain is accorded as much importance as they give it themselves. Molly Haskell， author of Spielberg： A Life in Films， concurs： "I think ET has been hugely influential in prioritising （even consecrating） the child's point of view over that of that of grown＼|ups， whether authorities in uniform or distracted mothers" . Returning to the comparison with Annie， it's clear that grown＼|ups are the agents in that film， and Annie herself is bounced back and forth between them： in ET， instead， Elliott and his siblings are the ones who carve out their own world， nursing the wounded alien， dressing it up， and returning it to its people by defying lawmakers.

Indeed， if Spielberg's fantastical， child＼|focused storytelling feels influential in the world of film and TV， ET's more heartfelt elements and the time it accords to everyday life ＼| as well as the way it doesn't shirk pain and sorrow ＼| feel strangely old＼|fashioned now and perhaps more aligned with arthouse cinema than with the frantic landscape of blockbusters. A likely cousin of ET， in this respect， is Céline Sciamma's recent Petite Maman， which also has a supernatural dimension， and a resolutely child＼|centric， deeply emotional narrative. Here， as in ET， a lonely child， whose parents appear to be separating， encounters a fantastical playmate， a kindred spirit （in this case， by time＼|travelling to meet her own mother as a child）; again， as in ET， the child is filmed sympathetically and with the sense that she is her own free agent， exerting an influence on the world around her. Another film clearly indebted to Spielberg， but which feels hampered by Spielberg's trademark sentimentality， is Todd Haynes's Wonderstruck （2017）， which also premiered in Cannes： also set in a world of children， and again attempting to conjure a sense of wonder from the adventures of children， the film features a somewhat sorrowful child of divorce in the main role. The clear suggestion of Spielberg is there in the script， but it sits slightly uncomfortably with the more eccentric and twisty directorial vision of Haynes.

If ET has an unmistakably large footprint over the subsequent film landscape， spawning a reinvention of youth cinema as being led by youth themselves， from The Goonies to The Hunger Games， it has also dated， in the sense that we are no longer used to the care of its writing， its sheer cinematic craft （visible， for instance， in Spielberg's delicious nods to trademark shots of confrontation in traditional westerns， when the children are escaping the adults， filmed marching ominously down a road in a row）. Does the film hold up？ Haskell， somewhat cryptically， tells me： "I think it stands up for the most part， but also might be retitled The Long Goodbye." Perhaps in this sense， ET signalled the start of a new type of cinema， but also rang out a protracted cry of farewell to its own type of cinema， one which is governed foremost by emotions， and where action， fantasy and the otherworldly are only considered in terms of what they bring to bear on authentic human lives.