The main reason for this, one suspects, is that Spielberg had what earlier script writers did not-a vast body of "encounter" literature to use as a basis for detailing his aliens' mode of contact. They chose to "speak" not to bureaucrats and scientists but to plain, ordinary people-to the Betty and Barney Hills of the world. Indeed, their depositing of the planes of Flight 19 in one remote desert and the Cotopaxi in another suggests a diversionary tactic. Keep the secret-keepers busy chasing into the boondocks while you send your real message to the people you really want to hear it.
The idea that governments and the military have engaged in a conspiracy to hide the existence of extraterrestrial visitations is hardly new. Spielberg's premise seems to be that such conspiracies are only effective if both sides agree to conspire-and these visitors are having none of it.
Then there is the way the aliens choose to contact us. Was their actual language based on color and music? We have no way of knowing for sure, not unless Spielberg brings Roy Neary back to make a report. But what a marvelously simple and yet effective way to announce oneself in a way that is unlikely to cause fear. And perhaps, too, those five simple notes are a subtle indication of just how far in advance of us our visitors are. They are like grown-ups singing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" to toddlers because the melody and words are easy to remember.
The main thing that strikes you about this film is the almost constant contrast between the relatively gentle and lyrical behavior of the alien craft and their Terran equivalents. It begins in the opening scene with frenetic activity of Lacombe's investigators side-by-side with the quiet wonder on the face of the old man. Later, the silent beauty of the gliding spacecraft one night is replaced on the next by the harsh roar of helicopters and glaring floodlights. Ironically, "our side" is more disruptive and terrifying than "the others."
That contrast appears again and again throughout the film, culminating in the final scenes when the aliens bypass the long line of stiff-backed, stern-faced scientists and select the one person among them who had been invited-Roy Neary-as their chosen ambassador. Spielberg's message is clear and quite sensible. If you wanted to learn as much as you could about a people, why would you choose someone whose mind has been disciplined beyond the capacity for wonder? And if you wanted to show your people to someone, who better than one whose ideas aren't limited by narrow definitions of reality?
Go To Page: 1 2
