|Imagine the kind of mind that would film a scene like this.|
My sister had seen the movie E.T. and it was apparently the most deeply moving experience of her life. I had seen it three or four times---a friend wanted to see it, then his girlfriend wanted to, then I saw it yet again for some reason, then I was forced to watch it on videotape. I didn't especially like it to begin with.
So my sister started ragging on me. I was trapped at my grandmother's house and couldn't leave. So I had to listen to her insist that I was trying to conceal how deeply moved I was watching that crap.
"That little boy loved ET," she kept saying.
I explained that that wasn't true. The plot was that ET had somehow latched onto Elliott and was literally sucking the life out of him, basically murdering a child to keep himself alive.
It went on and on and on, her smirking the entire time.
So some time later, my brother came to town. I guess we were going to watch a movie. So my sister insisted that we watch ET. I didn't want to sit through it again so again she starts in with her crap about me trying to hide my emotions. So, fine, I'll sit through the garbage again.
But before she turned it on, she hesitated. Had she done the wrong thing? Would it be socially awkward, all of us unable to keep from sobbing hysterically after being overwhelmed by ET? She warned that it might be too emotional for us.
So we sat through the thing. Nobody gave a crap.
She asked my brother what he thought.
"It's about the same as all those other movies," he said.
ET was Spielberg's most autobiographical film, a movie about an evil repulsive monster that ruthlessly exploits children, slowly murdering one of them (remember two children killed making The Twilight Zone Movie?) but has the rubes convinced that he's some sort of Christ figure.