Pure, undiluted Steven Spielberg. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial is a wondrous evocation of that time in our lives when brothers and sisters were necessary co-conspirators, bikes were our ticket to freedom, and we were willing to believe that a friendly little alien could really appear from the backyard shed. Continuing from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Spielberg (working from a script by Melissa Mathison) grounds his vision of the fantastic in an acutely observed depiction of an average American family: in this case, the frantic, messy home of a suddenly single mother (Dee Wallace, note-perfect) and her three bickering, beloved kids (Robert MacNaughton, Henry Thomas, Drew Barrymore). Because their life together is so authentic and true, we completely buy E.T.’s entry into it. (It helps that the little guy, a blessedly CGI-free concoction, turns out to be an expert physical comedian who uses humor to win our hearts.)
