In a review of Steven Spielberg’s 1982 film E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, Pauline Kael writes, “This phenomenal master craftsman plays high-tech games, but his presence is youthful.” Indeed, by the 1980s, Spielberg had become known for producing science-fiction blockbusters such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) or Jaws (1975)—films that employ heavy use of special effects and cinematic technologies to thrill and excite audiences (Kakutani 2). However, a shift in the nature of Spielberg’s storytelling appeared with the release of E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, which privileges the expression of character and emotion over intellect and Spielberg’s characteristic use of spectacle. However, that is not to say that E.T. strays from the conventions of science fiction blockbuster films but instead adapts those conventions, such as the presence of an unknown being, horror elements, and suspension of disbelief, into a children-focused family melodrama that interrogates the anxieties of growing up through its focus on the Taylor home and Elliot’s loneliness.

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The opening of the film, which begins with a shot of the night sky, employs iconography of science-fiction and horror but shifts these into melodrama through a literal, gradual transition from the sky (i.e. space) into the suburbs and the reversal of the “bad alien” role often depicted in science fiction (Booker 158). As E.T.’s presence acts as the catalyst which enables the broken Taylor family to reconcile, it would be essential to establish that he is not the monster in this story, which is easily inferred from his behaviour in the opening. The camera tilts down toward a dark, misty forest as an alien ship sits on the ground. The slowness of camera movement and its stillness during the shot of the ship, paired with the ominous tone of John Williams’ score, evokes anticipation among audiences. In this still shot, there are only two light sources: the primary one in our focus comes from the ship, while lit suburbs are visible in the background, almost unnoticeable due to the beam of the former light. This shot, while already playing with the audience’s imagination regarding the appearance of the creatures, also foreshadows the idea that while on the surface, E.T. is a science-fiction tale featuring an alien, it is essentially a suburban melodrama.

Furthermore, the shots remain slow-paced as the creatures explore the forest, the audience seeing only their silhouettes or hands. The choice of not showing what the creatures look like engages audiences by encouraging them to imagine what they might look like. Though we can barely infer the aliens’ actions, this part of the sequence implies their harmlessness through their interaction with nature, namely picking flora samples. This is especially prevalent in the shot of the ship’s interior: it is not sleek and angular like the portrayals of technologically advanced spaceships in science fiction, but rather like a softly-lit greenhouse. Thus the audience can assume that these creatures have come to learn without interrupting the human world rather than intending to dominate. Next, a shot of E.T. overlooking the suburbs more deliberately foreshadows the melodrama following the opening. This shot also connects the opening finally to the human realm, as immediately after, a car pulls into the frame. The score, shot pace, and composition in this part of the sequence pick up rapidly, evoking a sense of panic as it flips between the aliens fleeing and the men chasing them. Human faces are absent from this sequence, while close-ups of the cars with headlights beaming at the camera and shots of men’s feet as they search around are presented at low angles, making them appear menacing as the audience is put in E.T.’s point-of-view to emphasise the feeling of danger. The use of E.T.’s point of view continues as he hides, simultaneously encouraging our imagination about his appearance and worrying about his safety. Besides a small silhouette, the audience only sees E.T.’s glowing heart, the plant-like appearance of which Spielberg deliberately chose to emphasise E.T.’s connection with nature and symbolise his innocence. (The Making of ‘E.T. The Extraterrestrial’: A Look Back, 1996).

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After the thrilling chase sequence, the audience is introduced to the space that becomes the centre of the film’s events: the Taylor home. This scene establishes the dynamic of the Taylor family while marking the film’s partial shift away from the science fiction elements in the opening (until reintroduced in the climax) in favour of melodrama. Other than E.T.’s presence, telekinetic abilities, and unexplained telepathic bond with Elliot, all of which ask audiences to suspend their disbelief, the film maintains naturalism until the climax, giving the audience time to get to know the Taylors and E.T.. In a typical suburban American home, the insecure state of the Taylor family is initially hinted at by the dim lighting and mess of junk food and broken toys. Mike (Robert MacNaughton) and his friends play a board game loudly while ignoring and talking over Elliot (Henry Thomas). Immediately, the group’s reluctance to play with Elliot sets him up as an outsider amongst his peers. Like with E.T., the audience is encouraged to sympathise with Elliot, as we see him carrying a pizza box to Mike’s friends even though they bully him. This sense of loneliness is emphasised when no one, including his mother (Dee Wallace), believes his claims about the baseball. Later, although Elliot sets out in the misty night with a flashlight like the men in the opening, the tone is entirely different: the tracking from a medium shot to a close-up of Elliot’s face emphasises his childish wonder (Morris 160). Even when the scene intensifies, with shot/reverse shots of E.T. (though we still do not see him) and Elliot, there is no sense of danger because the audience now knows both characters and understands they are afraid. After the initial shock, Elliot’s reaction to E.T. (as portrayed by his use of M&Ms to find him) differs from that of Mike’s. This difference between the brothers is indicative of the absence of their father, a feature that would be common in Hollywood cinema at the time (Heung 85). Elliot is a latency-age child, during which support and reinforcement from parents are crucial to developing the rational thinking necessary to grow up (Drezner 269). Without this reinforcement from their father, Elliot is still imaginative and hopeful, his desire for his father expressed in his later dialogue, “Dad would believe me.” Meanwhile, Mike has already developed rational thinking, possibly before his father’s departure, and reacts protectively like a patriarch would when he heads to the shed with a knife. However, Mike falls short of this patriarchal figure as he primarily functions as the teasing elder brother. Elliot only sees him as such, allowing Elliot to trust Mike enough to show him E.T., but not enough for a heart-to-heart.

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Furthermore, Elliot’s argument that “they’ll give it a lobotomy” indicates that his imaginative understanding of the world is perhaps informed by popular culture such as Planet of the Apes (1968) rather than a parent, further hinted at by the clutter of memorabilia in his room. The absent father impacts the children’s relationship with their mother as well. Mary’s initial appearance presents her as a whimsical parent, not as separated in authority from her children (Morris 248). When she breaks down in tears after Elliot’s nonchalant comment about their father, she becomes the child in need of protection as Mike scolds Elliot in her defence. Because of her grief, she functions more as a heartbroken wife than a responsible mother. Therefore, Mary unintentionally becomes absent and subconsciously compensates for her grief by appearing as the laid-back parent. Besides the fact that she quite blatantly fails to notice E.T.’s presence, Mary also cannot assert authority in her household when she fails to stop Mike’s friends from charging out with knives and her half-hearted scolding of them for them ordering pizza. Finally, with Gertie (Drew Barrymore) being significantly younger than Elliot, still a hyper-imaginative child, Elliot is unable to emotionally relate to anyone around him, resulting in him manifesting his desire for love (particularly his father’s love) into his friendship with, and protection of, E.T., with whom he can quickly identify because they have both been abandoned.

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As the site of the family and the only space of protection for E.T., the aggressive breaking-in and transformation of the Taylor home into a laboratory—from an icon of melodrama to that of science fiction—is significant as it catalyses Elliot’s maturation and eventually restores his family. This climax begins with Mary discovering E.T. Finally, she takes the role of a parent in her immediate instinct to protect her children from this unknown creature. The irony, however, is that the audience knows that the children are behaving rationally, while Mary is being irrational in her reaction—the reaction that the audience and children alike were afraid of from the start of E.T.’s arrival at the house. The film then returns to the science fiction conventions depicted in the opening, though now with more spectacle. Mike stares offscreen in horror, again inducing anticipation and imagination in spectators as to what he may be seeing. The crossing of the 180-degree line to reveal an intruder acts as a sudden shock, matched at eye level to put the audience alongside the suddenly shaken Taylor family. The intruder is not dressed in a simple uniform (such as a suit) but in a spacesuit with an American flag, which often served as an icon for bureaucratic bad guys (Kael, 1982). Paired with the tone of panic in the soundtrack, this visual magnifies the scene’s strangeness, fear, and spectacle. Rather than giving a formal explanation, these men stride through the home and appear through the windows while only making Darth Vader-like breathing noises, framing them more as aliens or monsters than humans. Suddenly, the suburban horizon that, throughout the film, has acted as a space for the town’s children to navigate freely and safely (McFazdean 4) is invaded by police cars and men dressed in strange suits that clearly do not fit into the image of the suburbs. Throughout the sequence, background chatter and action from the scientists reinforce the iconography of science fiction. The Taylor home is unrecognisable as computers, tarps, and several other laboratory equipments cover up the space. The scientists navigate as they please, displacing the Taylors as the hosts and leaving them to hover awkwardly. 

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Elliot, whose comfort in the suburbs and his home was already made insecure by his father’s departure, is put in further despair as its remnants are fully taken away and E.T. is dying. Henry Thomas’ profound acting in this sequence again asks us to suspend our disbelief as his love brings E.T. back to life. Although he has been protecting E.T. throughout the film, the stakes are now higher for Elliot as the threat to E.T.’s safety is inside his home. More than ever, he has to seize the role of protector and authority attributed to a father to ensure E.T.’s safety. At this point, the Taylor children have already bonded over their shared love for E.T.; Mike does not hesitate when Elliot takes the lead because he knows his brother understands this creature better than anyone (“Elliot feels his feelings.”) At the same time, Spielberg seems to compensate for the absent father through Keys (Peter Coyote), transforming him from an intimidating bureaucrat to a hopeful, grown-up version of Elliot who understands the child’s care for the alien (Morris 262), hinting back to Elliot’s earlier dialogue, “Dad would believe me.” Following, even the boys who previously teased Elliot relinquish all agency to him due to his assertive behaviour. Elliot’s newfound assertion seems to also keep his mother and Keys, the only significant adult roles, from taking over his authority. With Mary finally believing Elliot and his siblings at his side (and briefly with Keys filling in the “father” role with his arm around Mary), sources of support and reinforcement are now restored for Elliot. However, at the same time, Elliot has gained reinforcement from himself through the agency that his relationship with E.T. perpetuates. Thus, Elliot understands that his unique place in the world is separate from E.T. and no longer needs to depend solely on external support, such as that of his father (manifested within E.T.), to make sense of the world around him. 

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Finally, it is essential to discuss further Spielberg’s use of suspension of disbelief and deep sentimentality, which often go hand-in-hand in E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial. Although suspension of disbelief is a feature already prevalent in science fiction, such as the very appearance of an alien, E.T. seems to call for an excess of this suspension as the audience is given no logical explanation of E.T.’s telepathic bond with Elliot, his ability to construct a communication device out of broken toys, and especially the film’s Peter Pan-like ending. As noted by Kael, this excess fuses science fiction and mythology as it is similar to fairy tales (Kael, 1982). For example, the audience is given no logical explanation of how Elliot manages to revive E.T.; we accept that, like Peter Pan with Tinkerbell (which Mary previously reads to Gertie), Elliot believes in his friend. Again, like Wendy in Peter Pan, Elliot chooses to grow up in the end when he decides to stay. While these features had some critics accusing the film of infantilising audiences (Booker 165), Spielberg himself insisted that “the suspension of disbelief is the whole point.” (Sterritt, 1982): the romantic and Disney-like nature of the film presents to us an ideal world with a glimmer of hope. Perhaps much of the sentimentality of the film comes from the fact that it is a pseudo-autobiography, as Spielberg, over numerous interviews, has expressed that the film is based on his own experiences during his parents’ divorce. This personal connection seems to inform the authenticity of certain aspects of the film. For example, the characterisation of Elliot is based very much on Spielberg’s childhood self (Sterritt, 1982) and as revealed in an interview featuring Spielberg’s mother (Silverman, 1982), their home rule of “don’t be an adult” seems to carry on to the dynamic of the Taylor family on screen. Abandoning his usual strict storyboarding, Spielberg focused on day-to-day improvising, which would allow naturalism in the character portrayals. Spielberg gives the example of allowing Henry Thomas to show off the props in his “bedroom” to E.T. via improv (Sragow, 1982). This scene is beautiful in its simplicity: Elliot’s bedroom expresses his personality (he is imaginative and creative), while his dialogue and behaviour further his excitement and kindness. Without Spielberg putting his faith in Thomas’ childish wonder, the same light and heartfelt effect may not have been achieved. Therefore, though ironically accused of infantilising audiences, E.T. presents a maturation of the director’s storytelling through his emphasis on character and family relationships, mimicking Elliot’s maturation throughout the story.

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To conclude, E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial remains an important film even 40 years after its release as a science-fiction fairy-tale. The film adapts the popular conventions of science-fiction blockbusters and trademark Spielberg expressions of special effects, such as the appearance of an unknown being, along with camera techniques, sound, and other formal elements to induce shock and spectacle. However, rather than E.T. being the antagonistic force, the adult world, characterised by government officials, acts as a source of anxiety for Elliot. The icon of the unknown creature is transformed into a friendly alien who functions as a pet,  catalysing Elliot’s maturation and the reconciliation of his family through his integration into their home. Thus, the Taylor home becomes the space where melodrama and science-fiction clash, propelling Elliot to save the day and claim his independence. The sentimental nature of the film, along with the suspension of disbelief that comes with science-fiction, therefore, shapes the film into a fairy tale that departs from the more rational nature of Steven Spielberg’s prior films. Therefore, stemming from the director’s childhood experiences, E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial is a story about hope amidst a child’s anxieties of growing up.