Happy Saturday, friends!
100+ days in quarantine feeling
I had hoped today’s recommendation could be the new Netflix comedy Eurovision Song Contest with Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams, and, well … I can say that while the movie isn’t particularly great, the soundtrack is full of bangers. Their main song is honestly a contender for my personal Song of Summer because I am trash:
Reading this New York Times article made me realize I honestly don’t think I’ve been in an elevator since March … and that I’m also in no hurry to get back in one any time soon. Also, RIP the elevator pitch?
And just going to leave this Times headline here and pose it as an open question meriting self-reflection: “Black Activists Wonder: Is Protesting Just Trendy for White People?”
Don’t let me shame you, but if you do feel compelled to keep donating now that it’s not flooding your social media feeds … I can make your money go twice as far to these organizations. Just note which if you want to Venmo me at @marSHAffer. (I do send confirmation receipts so you know that I’m not just pocketing your dollars!)
Now, what you came for…
DAY 107: E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (available on Netflix)
I have spent entirely too much time thinking about E.T. in my life, largely because it was the subject of a 10-page research paper I produced at the conclusion of a college class I took on the work of Steven Spielberg. (The rough life of a film studies student, I know.) That paper pushed me to the edge of my sanity as a freshman and still rattles around inside my head, so naturally I’m going to impart some of those findings and postulations to you. Sorry if you just wanted an “E.T. is good and you are good for liking it” write-up.
There’s a reason why you feel an outsized sense of awe and wonder in a Steven Spielberg film: it’s because he’s tapping into something physiologically in your brain. Though much of film writing (guilty as charged) likes to describe these as subjective phenomena, one particular technique Spielberg uses triggers a particular synaptic response. You’ll probably recognize the shot when you see it if you grew up watching the director’s work — the camera pushes in slowly on a character’s face as an emotion dawns on them, often times because they’re reacting to something off-screen that we as the audience cannot see. Think Laura Dern in Jurassic Park right before the reveal of the dinosaurs. And, often times, a piece an iconic John Williams score serves to amplify the moment.
This shot shows up many times in E.T., though perhaps most iconically when young Elliott (Henry Thomas) glimpses the alien in his backyard for the first time. His face is paralyzed in wordless wonder as the camera brings us closer to him, inviting us to feel that same emotion. None of this is to deny Spielberg is a great filmmaker — he is, and I’d even go to bat for some of his lesser-acclaimed movies as far better than people give them credit for — but it’s almost as if he’s cheating a bit to elicit the response we provide. There’s science that shows multiple emotions, including fear and surprise, are universally recognized across cultures. And the portion of our brains, the amygdala, that processes facial emotions of fear is also responsible for feeling it. So, to quickly compress my thesis, Spielberg finds a way to align us with the emotions of the person on screen by overriding our identification with the camera’s eye and putting us into their place. In an instant, he collapses the distance between spectator and character.
(If you want to learn more about how this is deployed Spielberg’s work, I’d recommend checking out Kevin B. Lee’s superlative video essay “The Spielberg Face” on this shot. Unless, of course, you’d rather just read my research paper.)
That said, even now knowing the ways in which Spielberg manipulates us in E.T., I still find myself surrendering over to it completely watching it post-paper. There’s something so disarming and sincere about this story of an alien separated from his family and changes the life of three children who shelter him as he seeks reunification … even if you see the strings. Whether you want to watch the film for the technique, for the coming-of-age story, for the parallels between Elliot and E.T., for Spielberg’s personal child of divorce angle, for the messianic parallels, or some other read entirely, E.T. still packs a complete emotional wallop. I could choke up thinking about the ending or hearing John Williams’ magical score.
Be good to yourselves and to each other,
Marshall