Introducing the Extra Terrestrial

E.T. the Extraterrestrial is a movie about a boy, Elliott, who meets and befriends an alien who has been abandoned here on earth. In the beginning sequence, in which we are introduced to E.T. before he meets Elliott, we witness E.T.’s childlike fascination with our world. He wanders away from his spaceship as the aliens survey a forest. As E.T. explores our planet, he has a keen sense of childlike wonder and curiosity. The other aliens, his family, are forced to leave him there with the sudden introduction of human scientists into the area. The scientists, like most of the adults in the film, are faceless. They represent adult maturity, rationality, science, and the loss of magic and wonder in our lives. The themes of the movie are set up in this beginning sequence, namely the duel of childlike innocence and belief in magic versus adult rationality and belief in science.

The storytelling structure of the beginning is in the visuals, showing us how E.T. became separated, and is being hunted by adult humans. We see a rabbit coming out to watch E.T. The rabbit’s presence makes us feel calm. Allen Daviau, the film’s cinematographer, gives a beautiful and magical look to this sequence. The story of E.T. is an incredible story that is hard to sell to an audience. John Simon wrote in his article “E.T. Etc.” in the National Review, “Allen Daviau’s cinematography looks opulent without turning too gorgeous or cute, and most of the special effects work in an understated manner.” By not having overly dramatic cinematography we are more accepting of the film world, and of the creature E.T. Joseph McBride quotes Daviau in “Stephen Spielberg: A Biography, “‘I remember saying from the very beginning when I read the script ‘It’s got to be so real. The whole world around has got to be absolutely realistic, so that the magic that happens isn’t hokey, so that the whole thing isn’t intentionally magical. The magic comes out of this incredible situation.” (331) Before we even are allowed to see E.T. fully-lit Spielberg and Daviau are able to sell us E.T. as a credible creature. 

The cinematography isn’t the only element building us up to E.T. John W. Wright in his article “Levinsian Ethics of Alterity: The Face of the Other in Spielberg’s Cinematic Language” writes, “Here, Spielberg only postpones the face-to-face encounter with the alien other for the briefest of times. He uses extreme close-ups to show hands, feet, and oblique parts of the alien E.T. as he wanders in the forest in search of plants to sample. When the ship leaves, Spielberg uses fast-paced editing to "humanize" the still faceless E.T. as he tries to make it back to the ship. The alien E.T. may be "unknowable," but Spielberg allows us this time to presage our engagement with its face through cinematic actions that seem familiar: a sense of helplessness, the ability to lose track of time and place, and the immediacy of the alien's loneliness at being isolated from that which it knows and is familiar with.” Spielberg builds us up to the reveal of E.T. later on by establishing him as an individual first. Despite E.T.’s foreign nature we are given the impression that he experiences wonder, fear, and loneliness, like a human being.

The beginning sequence is presented without dialogue, like a silent film. However, there are sound effects of E.T. walking, nature, and humans, as well as a lush soundtrack provided by John Williams. We hear E.T. walking through the forest, breathing heavily, making an “ooh” sound in wonder, and his shriek as the adults pull up. E.T. cannot speak at this point, but can communicate vocally like a baby, allowing us to know what he is experiencing without reading his face. The forest comes alive through the use of sound design here as well, presumably provided by the supervising sound editor Charles L. Campbell. We can hear birds, wind, and other subtle elements of a nighttime forest. As the scientists pull up, we are first introduced to the character simply known as “Keys,” played by Peter Coyote. We hear the jingling of his keys by his side, which throughout the film becomes the indicator of his presence, much as the theme music in Jaws alerts us of the presence of the shark. Sound is used to create the wonder of youth as well as the threat of adult maturity.

Another element of sound is John William’s colorful score which heightens the emotional elements of the movie for the viewer. Jack Sullivan quotes Williams in his article Conversations with John Williams, "For better or worse, the audience for film music, even in an unconscious way, is multinational and enormous. If there is such a thing as global music, it's probably coming from film, where it's less attached to one particular vernacular. As a unified art form, a successful film, if it has a score that people will embrace, really can, in the atmosphere we live in today, reach across those boundaries.” There is no dialogue spoken, and Williams’s score carries us through the scene with its own musical dialect. At first, as E.T. walks through the forest looking up at the redwood trees, the music gives us the sense of wonder that E.T. is having upon experiencing the gigantic redwoods. With the arrival of the scientists, the music becomes more suspenseful, making us believe that if the adults actually apprehend E.T., he would be in danger. The music imposes this dichotomy upon the viewer—of childlike magic and adult rationality.

The idea of a duel between the innocent nature of childhood and adult maturity, of magic versus science, is set up subtly here, at the beginning of the film. It is not presented as a grand gesture, nor is it stated explicitly. Instead Spielberg and his collaborators use film art to guide us into the world of E.T. allowing us to understand the creature and his character, making him believable. At the same time, they help us to understand that maturity and adulthood are around the corner. Later in the film, we understand that the adults are not villains, but people who no longer look at the world the way Elliott and E.T. do.

Bibliography:

McBride, Joseph, Steven Spielberg A Biography, Second ed., Jackson, Mississippi: University of Mississippi, 2010.

Scheurer, Timothy E., "John Williams and film music since 1971." Popular Music & Society 21, no. 1: 59. Music Index, EBSCOhost (accessed October 8, 2012), 1997

Simon, John, "E.T. ETC.," National Review 34, no. 14: 908-910, Film & Television Literature Index, EBSCOhost (accessed October 1, 2012) 1982.

Wright, John W., "Levinasian Ethics of Alterity: The Face of the Other in Spielberg’s Cinematic Language," Steven Spielberg and Philosophy: We're Gonna Need a Bigger Book. Ed. Dean A. Kowalski. Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky, 2008.

The Spectacle of Sex in Strange days

Strange Days is a late 90's Film Noir/Sci-fi genre film by Katherine Bigelow, set in the near future. The first draft of the film was written by her former husband, James Cameron. The film deals deeply with issues of race and sex. It is owned by Universal Studios.

This is part of a series of papers I wrote for a Humanities class last semester.

The a central plot device to the film Strange Days is the use of the SQUID, an electronic device that records an individuals senses to a disk that can later be replayed for another persons pleasure. The use of the SQUID can help people experience things that they would likely not experience otherwise; sexual encounters, theft, etc. The SQUID becomes the ultimate spectacle replacing not just visual images but all of a persons senses. “The spectacle cannot be understood as a mere visual excess produced by mass-media technologies. It is a worldview that has actually been materialized, a view of a world that has become objective.” What is the world view that has materialized in Strange Days? That men dominate women, and white men dominate all. The film presents a bleak future in which LA has become a police state, and powerful men buy and murder for control.

Here we see Tom Sizemore as Max experiencing the SQUID.

It is the men who dominate in the film; record producer Philo Gant who keeps tight control over his women, Max dominates over the singer Faith and the other women he rapes. Women have no control over the film. Faith is a shell of a woman, who has been battered emotionally and physically by the men in her life now has become a compliant shell. She obeys whoever is the biggest male that can guarantee her a form of safety. She leaves Lenny for Philo Gant who can give her wealth and promises her a career, then she leaves Philo for Max who guarantees her safety from Philo’s abuse. Each male is a step in a spiral downward. She is destructing and taking place in it. Many of the men are obsessed with replay through the SQUID’s. Max uses it so that when he rapes and kills women they are forced to watch it from his perspective. Philo Gant has SQUIDS planted on persons under his employ so he can keep tabs on his assets. The SQUID, a spectacle, becomes a source of control. Controlling not only by surveillance, but now what other people experience.

Spectacle becomes a greater factor for Lenny, Philo Gant, and Max. They have become seperate and distant from other people in their lives. Max lies about who is; claiming to be Lenny’s friend while setting him up. Philo Gant can’t communicate or connect with people so he keeps tabs on them with SQUIDS’s on spies; using brute force to keep those who oppose him from falling out of line. Lenny can’t get over the past he had with Faith, his ex-girlfriend; he replays disks of them interacting over and over. This creates further distant between him and Faith, because he objectifies her as well.

Faith becomes a spectacle to Lenny obsessing over her. He creates a distance with her by stopping interacting with her, replaying SQUID imagery of her. Faith tries to talk to Lenny, but Lenny never listens to her. He objectifies her in his mind, she no longer is a person but a spectacle. DeBord writes that the spectacle “is at once a faithful reflection of the production of things and a distorting objectification of the producers.” SQUID replays and sneaking into Faith’s performances are ways of playing out the experience he wants, neither situation is real. Lenny creating a spectacle of Faith rather than interacting removes himself from her life. McKenzie Wark writes of those who play video games, a form of spectacle, but then remove themselves from making history because of it. Lenny too removes himself from a positive history of Faith by clinging onto the past in a literal form of recorded SQUID disks containing those memories.

Watching the film I realized that I was like Lenny, holding onto memories of a former girlfriend and turning them into something they were not. She was a different person, and so was I. Like Lenny I became slightly pathetic and unable to act. Those memories of my former love had become a spectacle of their own, keeping me moving in a direction that I had chosen; not one that I necessarily wanted. DeBord states, “the spectacle represents the dominant model of life. It is the omnipresent affirmation of the choices that have already been made in the sphere of production and in the consumption implied by that production. In both form and content the spectacle serves as a total justification of the conditions and goals of the existing system.” I, not just a state or overseeing organization, created a spectacle in my own life to keep myself and the status quo moving; similar to Lenny.

The film depicts men objectifying women over and over; in both personal ways-like Lenny, pornographic ways-the buyers, and sadistic ways-like Max. There is a separation between the sexes, they never see woman as more than objects for the majority of the film. Strange Days isn’t largely pessimistic about men, however. The end shows Max connecting with Mace. Mace who is as just as powerful and intelligent- if not more so- than any of the men in power, is thrown down in the film like the other women. When Lenny is able to stop making a spectacle of the past he is able to move on and connect with Mace.