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Shot on a (relative) shoestring between “Indiana Jones” pictures, it’s the filmmaker’s most modestly scaled work, grounding interstellar wonders in the kind of quotidian suburban rituals that made Steven Spielberg the Norman Rockwell of the 1980s. Spielberg’s brilliantly subjective camerawork forces even the most jaded and cynical viewers back into the perspective of a child, which might be why it hits grown-ups so much harder than kids. Spielberg’s masterpiece is being rereleased in IMAX for its 40th anniversary, and nearly every friend I’ve spoken to about it has had the same reaction: initial delight at the prospect of revisiting a favorite film, followed by an ashen-faced admission to the effect of, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle that.” “E.T.” is one of the purest and most emotionally direct of all American movies, with not a whit of adult condescension nor any self-protecting irony. “E.T.” is one of the purest and most emotionally direct of all American movies, with not a whit of adult condescension nor any self-protecting irony. “E.T.” had made this second-grader and future film critic very sad, but the scary, hairy giant sitting next to me was inconsolable.

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As the movie wore on, he began to weep, finally graduating to full, heaving bodily sobs for the film’s heartbreaking farewell scene in the forest. But after a while, I couldn’t help noticing that this large, intimidating gentleman was sniffling a little bit. I gripped the armrest and stared straight ahead at the screen, trying to be brave. To my 7-year-old eyes, he looked like a Hell’s Angel, whatever those were. Unfortunately, this meant we’d have to sit next to strangers.Īs the older brother, I was deputized to be the buffer between my little sister and the empty seat beside us, which shortly before showtime became occupied by a burly, bearded man in a cutoff denim vest who had arrived at the theater alone. Steven Spielberg’s tear-jerking tale of boy and his alien friend had become more than just a box office phenomenon, it was a cross-generational, cultural juggernaut the likes of which wouldn’t be seen again until “Titanic” 15 years later.

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(In retrospect, we didn't know how good we had it.) Anyway, our screening of “E.T.” was full that afternoon, as most showings of the movie had been for most of the summer. Paying good money to be a captive audience for commercials was beyond the pale, my dad let the manager know in no uncertain terms.

My father had sworn off the General Cinema in Burlington a few weeks before, after he and I saw “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” and the theater had the temerity to play a Jordan’s Furniture radio spot after the lights went down. the Extra-Terrestrial” at what I’m pretty sure was the Showcase Woburn multiplex on Rt. I was 7 years old in the summer of 1982, when my family went to see “E.T.