Gremlins (1984)

Gremlins imagined the archetypal American small town under siege from hostile creatures who wreak havoc and destruction over the course of a Christmas Eve. Mashing together elements from Frank Capra's Americana with Alfred Hitchcock's sardonic sense of humor best exemplified in The Birds, with a touch of 1950s monster movies like The Blob. Gremlins is also situated within Spielberg's playful and dark portraits of America during the Reagan era.

A box office hit over the summer of 1984, Gremlins was the fourth highest grossing movie of the year in a crowded summer that included Beverly Hills Cop, Ghostbusters, and Spielberg's highly anticipated follow up to Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Capitalizing on the popularity of horror-comedies during the decade, Gremlins also helped usher in the PG-13 rating by portraying violence considered too intense for a PG audience. 

Directed by Joe Dante and written by Chris Columbus, Spielberg admired Dante's work in Piranha and The Howling, two horror movies with a satiric edge. Dante had also directed "It's a Good Life" episode in Twilight Zone: The Movie. Dante brought a sense of comedy, satire, horror, and film history. to Gremlins.

Columbus was a fledgling screenwriter who wrote the first draft of Gremlins, a script that fell into the possession of Spielberg. A native of small town Ohio, Columbus had a sense of Midwest life and an eye for horror. The original script was much darker with the gremlins killing Billy's Mom and going on a cannibalistic rampage at a McDonald's. Those elements were removed to make the film more accessible. 

Dante put together a memorable cast of unknowns in the lead roles and excellent character actors for the supporting cast. Zach Galligan as Billy and Phoebe Cates as Kate were cast because of their onscreen chemistry. Hoyt Axton and Francis Lee McCain were cast as Billy's parents. Dick Miller remains a favorite as Mr. Futterman, a xenophobic resident of the town. Keye Luke as Mr. Wing had a long history of acting in Hollywood. Judge Reinhold as the yuppie Gerald rounded out the cast.

The story begins in Chinatown following Randall on the search for Christmas presents. He discovers the Mogwai and buys it despite the warnings of Mr. Wing. Billy works at the local bank and contends with arrogant co-worker Gerald and the snobbish Mrs. Deagle. When presented with the Mogwai Billy is given three rules: 

1) no bright lights
2) no water
3) no food after midnight

Predictably, the rules are broken, and chaos ensues. When water is accidentally spilled on Gizmo (voiced by Howie Mandel) he self-reproduces lesser tame versions of himself. Later the mogwai fool Billy into feeding them chicken after midnight and they cocoon into gremlins, green creatures who mimic the worst of human behavior: eating junk food, drinking, watching television. They also exact some poetic justice. 

Spielberg's pop culture utopia resides in the household space. Billy's room is piled with comic books and his walls are plastered with iconic movie posters. Spielberg kids are rebels of a sort, anti-conformists working from within the system. 

The politics of Gremlins is all over the map, not unlike a Capra film. Small town capitalism gets lampooned throughout. Mrs. Deagle owns the town and is closing factories and building golf courses for profit. Billy's mom can be seen watching It's a Wonderful Life makes the parallel even more literal. Mr. Futterman's distaste for anything foreign whether it be cars or movies symbolizes a failing middle class feeling lost in the 1980s, he's stuck in the 1950s.  

In recent years Gremlins has also spurred conversations on racial stereotypes, revealing a reactionary streak from the Spielberg machine. Mr. Wing is the mystical Asian stereotype who chastises the Americans unable to handle the mogwai. Some have also suggested the gremlins symbolize white fears about African Americans and urban spaces. 

The gremlins reinforce old racist stereotypes, specifically in the bar scene. Glynn Turman plays the only African American character, the kindly science teacher who gets dispatched in an unsavory way. Spielberg's own Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was also lambasted for its representation of India. All this points to a complex relationship with '80s pop culture which can serve as a dopamine of nostalgia, at the same time the insensitivity of the era is impossible to ignore.

The Christmas season atmosphere contributes to the sense of maniacal playfulness throughout Gremlins. Dante highlights the traditional imagery of the season - caroling, shopping, lights, making cookies and then subverts them. The dog gets wrapped in lights. While making cookies Lynn is attacked by the Gremlins (brutally killed in the original script), resulting in a gruesome microwave effect that earned the PG-13 rating. The consumer mania of Christmas adds extra fuel to American craziness. To top it off there's also Kate's story about her father dying inside a chimney on Christmas Eve.

Dante had to fight to keep the scene in the film, which elicited laughter and gasps from audiences. The random nature of Kate's revelation in Spielberg's dreamy America hints at the tragedies floating just below the surface. David Lynch would take the concept further in Blue Velvet, but Dante keeps the darkness ever present.

An iconic film during the height of Spielberg's command of pop culture, Gremlins is now sealed in wax as an '80s cultural artifact. The combination of Spielberg's milieu with Dante's subversive sensibility makes Gremlins a fascinating and entertaining gateway into American cinema during the Reagan era

Spielberg's Visions of the American Highway: Duel & The Sugarland Express

Duel and The Sugarland Express were both directed by Steven Spielberg at the start of his storied career. Both films put the American road front and center. Duel, based on a Richard Matheson short story, follows salesman David Mann as he's being terrorized by an unseen truck driver. Duel proved to be Spielberg’s breakout film, earning a theatrical release in Europe and the financing to make his first feature film for Universal, The Sugarland Express. Loosely based on an actual event that occurred in Texas in April of 1969, the film follows a fugitive couple who took a state highway patrolman hostage in a doomed scheme to prevent their child from being placed in foster care. Both road pictures, each one uses their respective settings with skill and ingenuity. 

The road serves as a stage for 1970s American life in Duel and The Sugarland Express, a zone of high drama where life and death decisions are made every second. Full of contradictions, the roads are places of conflict, freedom, alienation, loneliness, overcrowding, a means of escape and entrapment. In Duel, past American iconography morphs into an uncertain future. The Sugarland Express presents a complex view of contemporary life: the road serves as a stage for the chaos of American, prescient of the decades to come with a mass media feeding a public obsessed with the pseudo-event and to quote the film's co-screenwriter Matthew Robbins, "achieving fame without notoriety." 

Duel: The Road as a Cultural Combat Zone

Duel came to Spielberg’s attention after his assistant suggested the Matheson short story which had appeared in Playboy, knowing the story played to his sensibility. For the DVD release Spielberg expressed his admiration for Matheson, especially his teleplays for The Twilight Zone. Matheson also adapted Duel into a screenplay which impressed Spielberg, providing precision guidance on how to shoot the car chase (the film would contain minimal dialogue). 

Dennis Weaver was cast as David Mann since Spielberg was a fan of Weaver’s performance as the paranoid motel keeper in Touch of Evil, making him an ideal casting choice as the terrified motorist. Under intense pressure from ABC to complete filming in 10 days, the studio was so impressed with Spielberg's footage they granted him extra time to complete the film. The original version of Duel which aired on television was 74 minutes long. Spielberg was granted permission to film additional scenes to qualify for a theatrical run. Purists prefer the minimalist TV version which is more focused on the action. Additional scenes filmed included a phone call between Mann and his wife. Unfortunately, the DVD and Blu-Ray releases only contain the extended version, not as it originally aired on November 13, 1971.

A POV shot opens Duel, taking the viewer on a journey from Mann's home suburbia, into the city, and finally into the open country. Outskirts of the cities had yet to be turned into vast sprawls of strip malls and fast-food plazas that are all too familiar to motorists today. The isolated highway Mann travels evokes a sense of desolation, sparsely littered with truck stops and roadside attractions. He's running late for a meeting with his boss and dealing with the fallout after an argument with his wife the night before. References are frequently made to Mann losing power in his household, evidenced in a clever visual of him framed inside a washing machine. A caller into a radio show Mann's listening to drones on about not being the head of his household (he takes care of the children while his wife works). It's an unrecognizable talk radio before the Fairness Doctrine was repealed (allowing right wing blowhards to dominate the AM airwaves).

Annoyed at the slow-moving truck ahead of him chugging exhaust in his face, Mann makes a quick pass. Then the truck speeds up on Mann and passes him. Then the truck slows down again, making it clear he's playing a game of chicken. Frightened after being run off the road, Mann takes refuge at a Café, and wonders if anyone can "drive on a public highway without someone trying to kill you.” The café resembles a remnant of the prototypical Western saloon where violent confrontations were common. Out of his element amongst the blue-collar truckers who look at him with suspicion and contempt, Mann’s sense of fear and disorientation is emphasized by the shaky camera following him around. Realizing the driver is now parked outside the café, Mann eyes the place for possible suspects, all are dressed the same way in denim jeans, shirts, and boots. The unofficial uniform of a Western trucker I presume.

Mann stumbles into a fight after sheepishly confronting a trucker he believes to be the culprit and gets himself punched out. Weaver never plays Mann as a likable character, he's often fussy and even winey when talking to his wife or dealing with a zealous gas station attendant. Mann is nothing at all like a male archetype of the time like Steve McQueen: clumsy driving, averse to confrontation, and a seething self-pity over his lot in life. Part of the Duel’s power stems from Mann coming to terms with the situation at hand and overcoming it, but by no means in the way audiences were used to seeing from male actors of the era. Duel subverts expectations by tilting towards reality, the way any person would react when being terrorized by an unknown assailant. As Spielberg’s proto-everyman, echoes of the character would occur in many of his later films in a more polished form, Chief Brody in Jaws being one example.

The desert highway serves as a battleground during the second half of the film (with detours along the way). There’s the red herring of the broke down school bus. When Mann proves unable to help the stranded children (further emphasizing his ineffectual nature) he gets mocked by the kids, the trucker comes along and saves them. During the final section Mann and the trucker are far from civilization as their chase plays itself out. The display of trophies on the truck (in the form of state license plates on his cab) represent the kills of a hunter. Only when Mann starts to fight back do the odds even out.

Duel has invited comparison to other films of the era dealing with masculinity, Sam Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs with their shared focus on imperiled masculinity (Friedman 129-132). Spielberg allows Mann to be redeemed at the end as he sits gazing at the sunset in hollow victory. European critics saw class struggle in Duel, pitting the working against the professional class, much to Spielberg's surprise. The class theme is best expressed in the café sequence. Road rage, trucks, and embittered white masculinity are a real social phenomenon Duel foresaw.

Spielberg has spoken of the truck in Duel being a metaphor for the hostile forces facing the individual. The lone individual verses a hostile world is a recurring theme in Matheson’s work as well from I am Legend to The Incredible Shrinking Man. The last act of Duel emphasizes the primal side to the story, not unlike Jaws. It's no coincidence Spielberg chose the same sound effect for the crashing truck and exploded shark.

The Sugarland Express: The Road as Metaphor

Executives at Universal were initially cool towards The Sugarland Express because of its downbeat ending. Yet the promise Spielberg displayed in Duel got him the green light to film The Sugarland Express on location in Texas. With Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins putting the finishing touches on their script, Spielberg scouted locations in Texas with cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond. Goldie Hawn was cast in the lead role as Lou Jean. Other members of the cast included William Atherton as Clovis, Ben Johnson as Captain Tanner, and Michael Sacks as Officer Slide. Many of the extras were locals. 

The opening shot focuses in on a road sign points in all directions evoking the wide spaces and extensive landscape of Texas. The camera follows Lou Jean to the holding facility where she plans to break out her husband Clovis, at the tail end of a sentence for petty larceny. Wearing multiple layers of clothing, Lou Jean provides Clovis with civilian clothes to smuggle him out despite his protest he’ll be released in a few months. They convince an elderly couple to give them a ride, the old man proceeds to get pulled over for driving too slowly. In a tight spot, Clovis and Lou Jean hijack the police cruiser and take Officer Slide hostage.

A chase ensues that will draw the attention of the entire Texas Highway Patrol and become a "media event." Captain Tanner as played by Ben Johnson, a veteran actor known for Westerns, Tanner's portrayed as a man out of place in the 1970s. He finds himself having to contend with the fugitives, keeping his own command under control, and all the extra mania surrounding the chase. Spielberg often lets the camera linger on Tanner’s face as he looks on with disbelief at the circus antics going on around him. His only display of anger is aimed at the vigilantes who decided to take the law into their own hands, firing upon Lou Jean and Clovis and almost hitting Officer Slide. Later, Tanner shoots out the tires of a TV news crew attempting to get an exclusive interview during the chase.

The stop in Rodrigo towards the end of the journey best illustrates the surreal nature of the film. The entire town of Rodrigo greets Clovis and Lou Jean as conquering heroes. They're offered gifts including a pig and a teddy bear (used as a symbol on the movie poster). The scene was inspired by Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole. Yet the initial excitement quickly gives way to weariness as Clovis stares on in disbelief at what he's been pulled into by Lou Jean. As the chaos intensifies the marching band music goes out of tune, adding to the mood and a forecast of the futility and eventual doom of the situation.

The elegiac, but somber, final shot captures the tragedy of the ending, the death of Clovis and a broken family. Everything about the enterprise, once a source of so much excitement is suddenly yesterday's news, a minor footnote to history. Everyone involved, including Tanner, are dwarfed by the event, and even somehow diminished.

Gun culture, while in the background, is also present throughout the film. In a Western everyone carries a firearm, but in The Sugarland Express it borders on unnerving. The vigilantes have a prominent bumper sticker “REGISTER COMMUNISTS, NOT GUNS! When they open fire at the car lot things quickly slip out of control, unable to handle their own weapons. The young boy with the men looks on horror at the real consequences of violence. At Rodrigo, the highway patrol compensates a pile of guns from armed citizens also looking to take the law into their own hands. These raw depictions of an armed citizenry are both absurd and frightening, not an anti-gun message per se, but simply a part of the culture's tapestry. 

If Duel channels a ghostly America of desolate highways, The Sugarland Express warns of a hellscape in the making, anticipating a declining infrastructure and a celebrity obsessed culture. Consumerism intrudes everywhere in the guise of garish billboards and the intrusion of fast food at the onset of its prevalence over American life (at one point Clovis and Lou Jean eat McDonald's food). The landscape is dotted with gigantic used car lots and gas stations signaling America’s unhealthy addiction to fossil fuels. Traffic jams were a recurring motif in many films of the New Hollywood era, Five Easy Pieces and Nashville come to mind, Spielberg presents the road as a landscape of clogged traffic and reckless drivers eschewing safety played to comic effect. The cars themselves often break down, the human need for speed and movement proves too much, like the guns, cars are merely tools dangerous and unpredictable.

Spielberg said his intention was to indict the media as a “circus on wheels.” From a 21^st Century perspective, the film was almost prophetic in predicting the social media phenomenon. Spielberg stated in the same interview, “today any one of us can create a major news story by doing the smallest, most simple, neurotic act.” Lou Jean, who Spielberg considered the antagonist of the story, gets way too caught up in all the attention and fame and loses sight of why she embarked on the madcap journey. In the scene when take in a quiet moment watching a drive showing Roadrunner and Coyote cartoon, the metaphor of Looney Tunes makes perfect sense.

Duel and The Sugarland Express reveal Spielberg as uncanny observer of American life. The road as a place where the anxieties and hassles of American life play out every day are given meaning through Spielberg's cinematic visions. If Jack Kerouac imagined roads as a sanctuary of freedom and possibility, Spielberg presents a more ominous view: an extension of American consumer society and never ending cultural conflict. From road rage to bumper sticker sloganeering to embittered masculinity brandishing rifles and pickups - the road was -and is- a dangerous place.

Works Cited

Citizen Spielberg by Lester Friedman

Steven Spielberg: Interviews Edited by Lester Friedman

Steven Spielberg: A Biography by Joseph McBride

 

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

Released a few months after Star Wars changed the landscape of movies in the autumn of 1977, Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind also proved to be a landmark in Sci-Fi cinema. While Sci-Fi movies were typically on the periphery of American movies up to that point in film history, the genre would become a major part of the film industry in the decades to come. Close Encounters channeled the zeitgeist by dramatizing the UFO phenomenon, government cover ups, and a sprinkling of post-hippy revivalism. The Voyager spacecraft was also launched in 1977, destined to explore the solar system and venture beyond it into eternity. A set of recordings aboard the Voyager craft were humanity's first attempt to communicate with another intelligent civilization. Close Encounters also evoked a sense of wonder by emphasizing interstellar communication. Grounded in reality yet surreal and idealistic it achieves a unique tone enhanced by its innovative special effects, inspired casting, and a sense of the uncanny.

As a teenager in Arizona Spielberg made Firelight with help from family and friends. The film was screened at the local movie theater and even got a write up in the local paper. While Firelight was by no means an early version of Close Encounters, it did deal with themes of alien visitation and government conspiracies. Later when Spielberg was directing television for Universal in the early 1970s, he began developing what would become Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Early on considered making a documentary on the UFO subject, but became more intrigued with creating an original story.

Although Spielberg received sole screenwriting credit, many writers worked on an ever evolving script. Spielberg pitched the idea of Close Encounters to studios as a conspiracy thriller about “UFOs and Watergate.” Paul Schrader, later of Taxi Driver fame and many other films, was hired to write the script under the title of Kingdom Come. Available online, the script followed a military officer who was an agent of disinformation on UFOs for the Air Force who would have his own life changing encounter. Schrader wanted to tell a modern version of Paul the Apostle resulting in a cerebral and serious script. Somewhat dry and repetitive in the middle, Kingdom Come ends with an obvious nod to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Spielberg rejected the script outright; it goes without saying their creative sensibilities were polar opposites. Yet many elements of the Schrader script found their way into the final film. Other writers were brought including frequent Spielberg collaborators Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins (The Sugarland Express) who helped polish the dialogue during production.

During the hectic filming of Jaws at Martha’s Vineyard, Spielberg continued developing the story, deciding to make his protagonist an everyman instead of a military officer. Richard Dreyfuss was cast as Roy Neary, an electrician living a suburban existence who has a life changing close encounter. Teri Garr was cast as Roy’s wife Ronnie. French filmmaker Francois Truffaut was cast as the UFO investigator Lacombe. Others in the cast included Melinda Dillon as single mom Jillian Guiler, Bob Balaban as translator David Laughlin, Cary Guffey, and Lance Henricksen. Most of the film was shot in Mobile, Alabama, including an abandoned hangar used for the final sequence. The 2016 documentary Who Are You People? reveals many production stories from locals who worked on the film in Mobile.

The opening 20 minutes highlight Spielberg’s ability to blend the extraordinary with the mundane. The opening scene set at the Sonoran Desert in Mexico follows an investigation of a UFO sighting followed by the discovery of airplanes originating from the Second World War. The sequence also sets up the theme of communication with Laughlin (Balaban) translating from Spanish to English and French. Then the film transitions to an air traffic control tower in Indiana (shot in Palmdale, California) as they receive dramatic reports of UFO sightings. Spielberg managed to make banal environments compelling by focusing on the faces, light, and sound (the scene was filmed months before principal photography began to reassure Columbia Studios the concept could work).

The next scene takes place the home of Jillian Guiler (Dillon) follows her her toddler son Barry. As toys and appliances start going haywire, Barry appears to be drawn towards some sort of force. He runs away and Jillian goes searching for him. Meanwhile, at the Neary household Spielberg paints a portrait of suburban malaise. On a weekend evening Roy appears more concerned with his train set than helping his son learn fractions. Ronnie must keep things in order and discipline the bickering kids. The house feels cramped and claustrophobic, a phantasmal vision of the average family. At the same a relatable and realistic depiction of an suburban household, Truffaut especially admired these scenes for their intimacy within an epic movie. Spielberg would become known as the chronicler of white suburbia and these scenes would be replayed most famously in E.T.

After a power outage (caused by the spaceships) sends Roy out to work on restoring power he experiences a dramatic close encounter. The use of sound, lighting, and visual effects are a marvel, a classic Spielberg moment perhaps even more so today since CGI was not yet available. After the encounter Roy’s life is forever changed, similar to the encounter in Schrader script. Lost in a psychic mania after the counter, Roy drags his confused family back to the location later that night. But neglecting his work costs him his job - and much more.

Close Encounters is structured so the very personal stories of the main characters play out amongst the global intrigue surrounding the phenomena. As the UFO investigators make new discoveries, including an ocean liner found in the Gobi Desert and locating the landing site at Devil’s Tower in Wyoming - everyone starts to be drawn to that location. Meanwhile Roy’s family life continues to unravel culminating with him ripping his yard apart to build a physical manifestation of his visions. In a scene reminiscent of a classic horror movie, the aliens abduct Barry. While the visitors are ultimately revealed to be benign, taking a child away from their mother does create some narrative/tonal issues! An effective sequence, but somewhat out of tune with the ending unless one interprets it as a misunderstanding?

The dissolution of the Neary family would become a familiar trope to Spielberg films. While these scenes have been parodied many times, they do tap into an underlying darkness woven into the story. As Roy is consumed (against his will) about his encounter the family splinters. The dinner table scene with Ray playing with his mash potatoes signals his breakdown, the camera lingers on the confused faces of Ronnie and his children. As Roy’s behavior becomes more erratic, culminating with him ripping apart his own yard Ronnie decides to leave him. These scenes get to how tenuous the nuclear family can be when put under stress - economically and psychologically. 

One could also argue Roy was never meant to be a “family man” because of his child like nature. Modern day viewers would identify Roy as a classic case of “Peter Pan Syndrome,” the adult male unwilling or unable to take on adult responsibilities in favor of a life centered around escapism. One can view Roy’s mania in spiritual terms, a biblical prophet being “called” towards a higher purpose. Or is he rebelling against the expectations of a system? “Me Decade” politics would frown upon adults shirking responsibilities for selfish reasons (women faced even harsher judgments from moralistic pundits). A psychologist would suggest Roy to ignore his erratic impulses and focus on his family, but the universe had other plans. While Spielberg would later express misgivings with a protagonist who abandons their family, the fact of having a man willingly leave his family still feels subversive - even more so for a woman to abandon her family.

Eventually Roy realizes he must go to Wyoming to be present for the landing. Devil’s Tower featured prominently in many Native American oral histories, in many of them the obelisk served as a haven for children being chased by a bear. In one story according to the National Park Service Website, little girls who were being terrorized by a bear took refuge on a rock and it rose into the heavens. The children became star beings (origins of the Pleiades Star Cluster), so the site has always had a cosmic connection. Perhaps it’s no coincidence when the aliens appear at the end many of them resemble little children (all were portrayed by little girls). 

Close Encounters is ultimately a spiritual quest. The religious themes woven into the Schrader script evolved into a more contemporary New Age journey of enlightenment for Roy, Jillian, and Lacombe as the story reached its final form. The 1970s were a time of New Age and Self-Help bestsellers, often attributed to sociological factors of the time from the Cold War, Vietnam, social unrest, and other resulting pressures on families and individuals (Star Wars is often viewed in that context). Attempts to communicate with beings outside the Earth channels a certain need that the film allows the viewer to become invested in. There's a human need to be understood as well to understand the mystery, Spielberg manages to make it cinematic and unique.

Spielberg embedded religious imagery and symbolism throughout the film. At the Neary household the children are watching The Ten Commandments which tells the story of Moses and The Exodus, a big budget Hollywood production and forerunner of the modern blockbuster. Different cultures interacting with the UFOs draw connections as seen in Mexico and the sequence filmed in India suggest a more pantheistic theme. The landing sequence is a light and sound show of intergalactic communication. Roy becomes a sort of Moses figure, climbing the mountain to meet the beings and eventually being “chosen” to join them. Before the mysterious group known as the “Mayflower 12” are to board the ship they receive a blessing during a Christian service. Whether one is believer, agnostic, or atheist knowledge of intelligent life elsewhere would compel any thinking person to consider the universe in a new light. The film manages to achieve a cathartic feeling by the end despite some of the narrative anomalies along the way.

The John Williams score adds to the sense of wonder. Remarkedly, Williams had also composed the score for Star Wars about the same time yet both contrast in tone and style. If Star Wars was big and bombastic from the opening to closing titles, the music of Close Encounters is more subtle, tones ranging from mysterious to wondrous. The iconic five notes create a thematic link through the entire score. For the end titles, Williams even wove in the melody from “When You Wish Upon a Star” to reference Pinocchio and the film's theme of transcendence.

Richard Dreyfuss was ideally cast as Neary, providing the child-like personality the role demanded and serving as Spielberg's avatar. Many other actors including Dustin Hoffman, Jack Nicholson, and Steve McQueen. On the DVD Spielberg recalls meeting with McQueen at bar to discuss the script, at one point McQueen excused himself to stop a fight and then came back and finished the meeting. He turned down the role because he could not cry on camera but encouraged Spielberg to move on with a different actor. 

Teri Garr as Ronnie continued Spielberg’s early tendency to include problematic wife roles with Goldie Hawn in The Sugarland Express and Lorraine Gary in Jaws. Ronnie's played as an unsympathetic character but does react the way any normal person would in such a circumstance. Truffaut provides a humanism to the film. Balaban is a faithful confidante to Lacombe. I’ve yet to get a copy of the diary Balaban wrote about his experiences during the production.

The final sequence also highlights the “Spielberg Face” gazing with awe into the sky as the ships land. With the Williams score and neon display of lights the sequence becomes a symphony on film. In the maligned 1980 Special Edition Roy enters the ship but its underwhelming and throws off the rhythm of the ending. The restored version omits the onboard sequence in favor of the mysterious ending of Neary simply entering the craft. In many ways E.T. would serve as a sequel in spirit to Close Encounters, with Spielberg reducing the themes to their base elements in a story of reconciliation from a child's perspective.

For the DVD interview Spielberg spoke of seeing the film as an expression of his youthful ideas, and confesses to being more pessimistic with age. In 2005 he presented a far darker vision of alien visitation in his remake of War of the Worlds. Made in the context of a post 9/11 world, Spielberg portrays an America on the run in the face of a terrifying alien invasion, but the real horror portrays Americans violently turning on each other in order to survive in the middle of an occupation. The post 60s sensibility of Close Encounters and E.T. mutated into a darker vision of humanity.

As times have changed. Close Encounters persists as a classic. It taps into human curiosity about the universe and the possibility of life elsewhere. The special effects supervised by Douglas Trumbull remain impressive, even more so with the use of the technology at hand. The movie made everyone want to walk out of the theater and watch the skies. 

Sources

Close Encounters of the Third Kind: The Making of the Classic Film by Roy Morton

Close Encounters of the Third Kind: The Ultimate Visual History by Michael Klastorin

The Making of Close Encounters of the Third Kind - DVD Extra - Directed by Laurent Bouzerau

         

Saving Private Ryan (1998)

Saving Private Ryan proved to be another cultural touchstone in Steven Spielberg's epic career by launching a conversation on the legacy of the Second World War and "the greatest generation" phenomenon. An overpowering film and groundbreaking in its recreation of the Omaha Beach landings, it looked and felt like no WWII film made up to that point in time.

WWII has enamored Spielberg throughout his career. There was the USS Indianapolis speech in Jaws, the 1979 flop comedy 1941, and the Indiana Jones trilogy. Empire of the Sun from 1987 looked at the war from a child's perspective that was based on the J.G. Ballard novel. Schindler's List portrayed the Holocaust like no film before or since. Arnold Spielberg, Steven's father, had served in the Army Air Force in the China-Burma-India theatre. When asked why the Second World War looms so large in his films Spielberg answered: 

I think that WWII is the most significant event of the last 100 years; the fate of the baby boomers and even Generation X was linked to the outcome. (208)

Robert Rodat wrote the screenplay, a fictional story inspired by a real-life anecdote he read in Stephen Ambrose 1995 bestseller D-Day: June 6, 1944: The Climatic Battle of World War II. The story involved a squad of soldiers sent behind enemy lines to locate a lost soldier who unbeknownst to him had lost all his brothers in combat. Rodat's script found its way into Spielberg's orbit, an ideal project for him since he had always wanted to make a film about WWII combat, plus the story of a behind the enemy lines mission to save a family especially appealed to his sensibility. 

The cast of the film featured some of the finest young talent in Hollywood. Tom Hanks, easing into his role as America's dad at this point, was a natural as Captain Miller, the "citizen soldier" leader of the squad assigned to find the lost soldier. Matt Damon earned the title role as Private Ryan. Other members of the squad included Tom Sizemore as battle hardened Sgt. Horvath, indie filmmaker Edward Burns as Private Rieben, Barry Pepper as the sniper Jackson, Adam Goldberg as Jewish-American Private Mellish, Giovanni Ribisi as the medic Wade, Jeremy Davies playing the interpreter Upham, and Vin Diesel as the gregarious Private Caparzo. 

Recreating the Omaha Beach landing remains the most memorable sequence. The sound design and visual style provide both the scope and horror of the battle. A feat of filmmaking unsurpassed - but not without controversy. Some have pointed out that it downplays the contributions of all the Allied Forces at Normandy and that it glorifies warfare.Francois Truffaut famously stated that it's impossible to make an anti-war movie since any depiction of battle will look exciting no matter how awful. Others have accused Spielberg of glorifying war crimes when American troops are shown shooting German troops after they surrendered. 

To the last point, Captain Miller looks on with disapproval when he witnesses the killing of the prisoners. The issue comes up again when they capture the German soldier who killed Wade. After debating whether killing him in retribution they decide to let him go (only to have him return and kill Miller, Mellish, and Horvath at the Remelle battle). Perhaps the point was to show the absurdities and cruel nature of war (not endorsing war crimes).

Once Allied forces secured Omaha and the other landing sites, the grueling drive to liberate France began. The long middle section of Private Ryan is another point of contention, one which I find even more baffling. Spielberg allows to get to know the soldiers and their personalities. Unlike all the soldiers who perished on the beaches, just a pile of nameless typed sympathy letters, we feel the loss when someone gets killed in the squad. It reminds us that the loss of all soldiers on all sides was a shattering loss to their loved ones, a void that never goes away. Spielberg fans always point out that a great strength of Jaws is the screen time devoted to character development, we get to know the men on the Orca. Granted the middle section lacks the pure cinematic force of the opening, but it develops character in a series of effective sequences.

Quiet moments of the men reflecting on their experiences late at night or the tense moments before battle provide a humanity. At the French village an interaction with civilians leads to the death of Private Caparzo, shot by a sniper while trying to comfort a terrified little girl. Spielberg lets the camera linger on him forcing the audience to ponder the loss. The men also debate the logic of their mission, resenting the idea of their lives being sacrificed to save a fellow soldier, the implication being Ryan's life is worth more than their own. Once the squad locates Ryan they remind him of their losses they suffered in order to save him, but they eventually come to respect him as a soldier. 

The climactic battle at Remelle is more in the classically cinematic mode with Spielberg pulling out all the stops with long shots, close ups, tracking shots, a far more personalized than the Normandy sequence. A sense of desperation and intensity are the primary tone, but it's also a textbook action sequence heightened by the personal drama. 

The bookend sequences, with an older Ryan revisiting Normandy with his family, also elicits conflicting reactions. When Ryan asked his wife if he was a good person, it feels overly sentimental. From a narrative perspective, it does provide a proper ending to the story. Though part of me is more interested in a film where we don't know the fate of Ryan.

Saving Private Ryan continues to influence war movies with its dedication to realism and kinetic style. Tom Hanks's quiet but determined performance as Miller offered an everyday type of heroism free of the over the top bombast of the John Wayne movies. While there are still so many stories to be told about the war and its ongoing meaning in American and World history, Saving Private Ryan opened new possibilities. 

Steven Spielberg: Interviews. Ed, Lester D. Friedman and Brent Notbohm. Jackson: UPM, 2000.

H2020: #7 Amazing Stories: "Mirror, Mirror"

Air Date: March 9, 1986
Written by Joseph Minion (story by Steven Spielberg)
Directed by Martin Scorsese
Starring: Sam Waterston, Tim Robbins, Helen Shaver, and Dick Cavett

Steven Spielberg's anthology series Amazing Stories ran for two seasons on NBC. Although the show attracted the best talent of its time, the episodes were often uneven, as most TV anthologies tend to be. In an After Hours reunion, "Mirror, Mirror" was directed by Martin Scorsese and scripted by Joseph Minion. 

The 24 minute episode follows famous horror writer Jordan Manmouth (Waterston) who finds himself being terrorized by a phantom from one of his movies. The episode begins with Jordan doing a TV interview with Dick Cavett on his latest film. He confesses to taking great pleasure in terrifying people. Jaded by wealth and fame Jordan lives in a lonely mansion surrounded by reminders of his creations, telling a limo driver (Tim Robbins) he finds agents and ex-wives much scarier than his horror stories.

"Mirror, Mirror" is mostly a disappointment, reminiscent of a Night Gallery episode which were famous for squeezing an entire story out of a horror gimmick. The concept, a writer being haunted by their own creations, has potential for irony and dark humor, but it never goes anywhere: we get a cycle repetitive scenes. Scorsese included some Hitchcockian shots that will delight cinephiles, but the story ends with a thud. At best a footnote in the prolific careers of Spielberg and Scorsese.