*****MOTHERSHIP-SIZED SPOILERS!*****

“If everything’s ready here on the dark side of the moon?  Play the five tones…”

When the COVID pandemic happened, my wife and I invested in a cheap Vankyo digital projector to keep up on our movies since movie theaters were shut down for months, and arguably, still haven’t fully recovered. Without the occasional relief offered by movies, the deadly pandemic would’ve been even harder to bear. After our Vankyo turned out to be a dud, along with a disappointing Fangor model, we finally upgraded to a much-improved Epson EF-12 laser projector; which is everything it’s reputed to be, and more—auto-focus, automatic keystone calibration, etc.  It’s great.  A bit pricey, yes, but a truly fine instrument.

That Epson projector, combined with our trusty 7 ft/2 meter collapsible screen, have made for some wonderful movie nights at our house. Since sitting outdoors invites too many mosquitoes, we’ve taken to holding our movie nights in the garage for the last couple of years, which means temporarily moving our two cars out in order to set up this impromptu theater; which comes complete with thick, comfy patio chairs, and plenty of fresh popcorn (bathroom breaks are only a pause button away, too).

My friend Kathy has been one of my best friends over the last 35 years, and her 12-year old son, Joshua, is a bona fide movie fan and certified John Williams buff.  During the past few years, my wife and I have introduced Joshua to many of our own treasures; including the original trilogy of “Star Wars ,” the “Back to the Future” trilogy, “The Princess Bride,” “Jurassic Park,” and last weekend, we introduced him to 1977’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” (CE3K), which came about after Kathy told me how much her son loved “E.T.” (1982), after watching it at home recently.  

Note: Unpopular opinion on my part, but I still think “Close Encounters…” is the better film. Nothing personal against “E.T.” but for me, it lacks the awe and grandeur of director Steven Spielberg’s previous extraterrestrial opus, which prompted me to “watch the skies,” after seeing it at age 11.

For clarity, there are several cuts of the film; the 1977 original, the 1980 Special Edition, and a 2001 “Ultimate Cut.” We chose to go old school, and put in the original 1977 version, which is our favorite, and which works just fine.  Subsequent versions have a bit more whipped topping, but they don’t really add to the overall story; though to their credit, they do tighten the movie’s somewhat lengthy midsection.  Nevertheless, the original—sans over-the-top mothership interior sequence—still works best.

Unfortunately, the planned day of our movie night, June 15th, was rather hot; it was 94 F/34 C outside, and the garage of our little house usually becomes an oven in those temperatures. However, I was determined not to cancel, so we moved the cars out very early that morning, and I opened the door between the air-conditioned house and garage, in order to better equalize the temperatures. I also pulled out a small fan, and had it run continuous cool air from the hallway into the garage.  All that effort paid off.  After going out to dinner with Kathy and Joshua, we came back to our place and found the garage cool enough for showtime.  We started the movie a little after six.

“Watch the skies, please…”

This will not be a traditional review of the film, since I already did one of those, nearly 7 years ago.  This is about vicariously reliving the excitement and mystery of the film through fresh sets of eyes, since neither Joshua nor his mother (who is of my generation) had seen the movie. Shocking, but true. Time to turn the lights in the arena down sixty percent...

The movie opens with slowly building, vaguely sinister music against a black screen during the credits, and then explodes with a burst of bright light, which settles into the Sonora desert of Mexico (with California’s Mojave desert and a few wind machines standing in for Sonora). Joshua was curious about the recovered fighter planes in the movie’s opening, and their connection to the UFO story. I told him the missing Flight 19 mentioned in the movie was real, and that it disappeared during a training mission near the end of World War 2. Pretty sure aliens were not responsible. The scene also introduces the characters of Claude Lacombe (played by the late legendary French new wave director François Truffaut) and his cartographer/interpreter, Mr. Laughlin (Bob Balaban). At this point, Joshua was intrigued. In fact, he seemed to respond more to the movie’s mystery than to its visuals.

Next came the Indianapolis Air Traffic Control tower scene; which is one of my favorite scenes of the entire film, mainly for its Hitchockian approach. We don’t see any flashy visual effects, nor is there any music. Just a cluster of curious onlookers and supervisors gathered around a single air traffic controller, played by David Anderson, who owns the role with his brusque, steely-eyed authenticity. The radio chatter is realistically garbled, though clear enough for an audience. I used to wonder if perhaps Anderson was a real-life air traffic controller who was recruited for the film, much like the “X-Ray Delta One” Mission Controller seen in Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

The movie’s first scenes of genuine awe follow soon afterward, as single mother Jillian Guiler (the late Melinda Dillon, 1939-2023) pursues her toddler son Barry (Cary Guffey) into the late evening backwoods and back roads of Muncie, Indiana (with rural Georgia standing in) as the boy runs off in search of the playful aliens who awakened him by animating the toys in his bedroom. The scene also marks the first appearance of the UFOs for both the audience and for protagonist Roy Neary (“JAWS” costar Richard Dreyfuss), as well. 

When Neary’s truck is enveloped by the overhead lights and deep rumbling noises of the alien spacecraft, I could actually hear the end of the five-note musical phrase that becomes so important afterward; yes, it’s almost completely buried in low-end bass, but you can still make it out. Joshua enjoyed the sight gag involving Neary, who is stopped at an intersection and frantically waving the ‘car’ behind him to go around him…only to see its ‘headlights’ rise slowly into the air!  The scene is cleverly set up beforehand, when Neary waved another car around, only to have its passenger call him a “jackass.”

Note: These were the scenes that made my jaw drop as a kid, and Joshua seemed to respond well to them, even if he wasn’t as enamored by the visuals as I was, since he’d already seen “E.T.” and other FX-heavy films of this era.  His generation has grown up with high-quality visual effects, so I wasn’t too surprised to realize CE3K wouldn’t hold his attention through spectacle alone.

Later on in the film, we’re in an auditorium where Claude Lacombe is giving a lecture to his fellow UFO researchers on a series of five musical notes heard repeating in India (shot India for India this time).  Lacombe then (somehow?) knows to correlate the five tones to a series of five hand gestures, using  Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály’s guide for teaching music to deaf children.  Joshua looked at me and asked a question for which I had no honest answer; “Why would he use hand signals to communicate with aliens?”  This was a very good question, and one for which I, and the movie, had no real answer.  What if the aliens didn’t have hands like ours, let alone fingers or even arms?  Ah, the wisdom of kids…

We then came to the one scene in the film that borders on all-out horror—the harrowing abduction of young Barry Guiler by the aliens.  This was a scene in the movie that traumatized my wife when she saw the movie at age five.  At 12, Joshua is properly immunized by age, but the scene is still intense.  The aliens menace the Guiler family by turning on all of her appliances at random, making a disaster area of their home.  This was something I noted in my earlier review of the film back in 2017; why’d the aliens have to be such dicks to Jillian and her son?  I immediately answered my question when I looked at how we humans treat animals on our own planet. The aliens of the movie are on an expedition to study lower lifeforms (i.e. homo sapiens), and they probably see the disruption of our human bonding and domestic tranquility with the same level of concern a prospective pet owner has for a mother dog when they take one of her puppies. 

Roy Neary’s life isn’t going much better at this point in the film, either; his obsession with what he saw that night has cost him his job, his marriage to his wife Ronnie (Teri Garr), and even his kids.  The final straw for his family comes when he ransacks their house—and even a neighbor’s yard—looking for materials to build a massive sculpture of a mountainous shape he’s been seeing in pillows, shaving cream, and even mashed potatoes (Joshua got a giggle out of that one).  The scenes of Roy throwing garbage, dirt, and other materials into his house are super-difficult for me to watch as someone with mild-OCD. In fact, it’s nearly triggering to see Roy toss shovel-loads of dirt into his kitchen window!  This was a scene that Joshua handled way better than I did, that’s for sure…

Roy finally realizes the shape he’s been obsessing over is, in fact, the national landmark butte known as Devil’s Tower in Wyoming (shot on location).  To that end, Roy rents a car and heads off to Wyoming, of course. The area around the landmark has been cordoned off by the US military, who are using a false toxic railway disaster as cover, since the location has been predetermined as the rendezvous site for the arriving aliens. Stopped in Montana by a flood of refugees fleeing the area, Roy is questioned by a tough military policeman, played by the late Carl Weathers (1948-2024), who has orders to “shoot anyone caught looting” in the area. After the scene, Roy is reunited with Jillian, and the two of them escape the authorities and make a mad dash for Devil’s Tower. 

Note: I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Carl Weathers at the 2022 Star Wars Celebration in Anaheim. I’ve been a fan of his work since the late 1970s with the Rocky franchise.  Joshua and his parents also attended that event with us, as Joshua played young Luke Skywalker to my wife’s “Aunt Beru” and my “Uncle Owen.”

The final act at Devil’s Tower has long been my favorite act of the film, and I was curious to see how Joshua and his mother would respond to it.  Not too surprisingly, the once awe-inspiring sights of multiple glowing UFOs buzzing the de facto runway and control towers set up behind Devil’s Tower was not quite as impressive to Joshua as they were to me at his age. That’s understandable, given that he was born in 2011—well after the modern visual effects revolution first began.  His mother Kathy enjoyed the visuals well enough, since she is of the same generation as my wife and I (Gen X).  We’re all old enough to remember how films were in the days before the “Star Wars” revolution changed modern movies forever.  

Joshua really seemed to like the first attempt at musical communication with a trio of flying alien drones; he also realized that the trio seemed to be using a Morse-like code of alternating lights in order to communicate with other spacecraft hovering just beyond the butte. This was something I’d never thought about, to be honest. Joshua sees the film with a more clearheaded, less nostalgic vision than my own.  He also enjoyed the moment where Lacombe reaches toward the underbelly of a low-flying alien spacecraft, as if to touch it with his own hand; an impulse most of us might certainly feel in that imaginary instance.

Then the arrival of the mothership happens.  Emerging (somehow) from behind Devil’s Tower, the massive, brilliantly lit starship seems to evoke a universal awe from just about everyone observing its appearance—save for the sight gag of the one terrified guy running for the portable chem toilet.  Once again, a few nagging issues with this scene entered by brain; how did such a massive ship ‘emerge’ from behind the butte unseen?  Was it cloaked?  And if the aliens had cloaking technology, why did the other ships use artificially-generated clouds instead?  And how does such a brilliantly-lit vessel cast a dark shadow on its approach?  The short and simple answer is WHO THE HELL CARES?  It’s a gorgeously cinematic moment, and suspension of disbelief is highly recommended.  Enjoy your popcorn.

Next came “The Conversation” sequence, where the aliens aboard their mothership try to teach humankind a “basic tonal vocabulary” using lights and corresponding tones (sometimes window-shattering tones). Joshua really got into this part of the film, as I watched his eyes widening to the music. Given that he plays the clarinet, the significance of this scene for him makes sense.  Though I don’t have any musical talent myself, I do love music very much, so I empathize.  It’s never explained exactly how the base computers get such a quick ‘interlock’ with the mothership’s tones that they are able to autonomously take over the tonal conversation—creating a dizzying jam session of lights and music.  While CE3K seems somewhat lacking in story logic, it’s perhaps best enjoyed in the same vein as Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey”; a sensory experience that tickles the intellect without stopping to answer too many mundane questions.

After the jam session, the bottom hatch of the massive mothership opens, and its dazed and disoriented human passengers (i.e. abductees) are returned. First come the missing fighter pilots of 1945’s ill-fated Flight 19, who identify themselves by name, rank and serial number, per their training.  This scene is very well-played by the abductee-pilot actors, particularly Randy Mark Herman as a shaky “Lt. Frank Taylor,” whose face conveys experiences beyond earthly comprehension and humble gratitude as he greets Lacombe and the others.  The other returnees all have that far-off look in their eyes. Ever since my teens, I’ve imagined a low-budget sequel to CE3K that told the story of the returning abductees, now given new identities on 1977 Earth, as they try to cope with ordinary life again, following their truly extraordinary experiences.  This is a movie I’d pay real money to see someday…

We then see Barry emerging from the blinding light behind the mothership’s exit ramp, along with a dog, and other random strangers.  Jillian is at the base camp waiting for him, and he runs into her arms. Little does Barry know, Jillian has literally escaped from military custody and climbed a damned mountain to be reunited with her son.  I imagine my friend Kathy, or any parent worthy of the title, would do exactly the same. Once again, the aliens’ callous and careless abduction of humans out of their natural environment without any thought given to possible trauma incurred reminded me of how we treat animals.  Even with so-called ‘benevolent’ intentions, we pull creatures out their habitats in order to tag them, or separate them from their mothers just so we can bring them home, where we will “take care” of them as we see fit.  Maybe the aliens aren’t so different from us as we imagine (see: The Twilight Zone episode, “People Are Alike All Over”).

After the human abductees are returned, the mothership has one last surprise; the reveal of the aliens themselves. The mothership’s massive hatch reopens, and we see a tall spindly-looking alien that looks very different from the smaller, large-eyed ‘grays’ that soon follow.  For some mysterious reason, the tall alien appears, spreads its arms in a welcoming gesture and then promptly disappears (!). It’s never explained, and even Joshua didn’t ask what happened to it. It’s an awesome, if abrupt moment that—like many in the film—shrugs its shoulders at conventional storytelling logic. 

Next we see the flood of ETs, played by young girls, who mingle with the base personnel, and finally meet Roy, the man they’ve nearly driven insane.  Roy has been hastily recruited to join a group of red jumpsuited astronaut-envoys who will join the aliens for their return voyage.  However, the other would-be astronauts are summarily ignored—the aliens have their hearts set on Roy, and Roy alone.  Roy, not really caring about his wife Ronnie or their kids, only glances back to Jillian, before smiling and going up the ramp into the mothership.  I used to tease my late dad that this scene was the reason CE3K remained one of his favorite films (hehe). Writer/director Spielberg has said in subsequent interviews this is one scene of the movie he would change today, given his post-CE3K status as a loving parent. 

Finally, we see a single, older-looking alien. Its wisened-features face Lacombe, who then performs the five hand gestures which correspond to the aliens’ tones.  The alien returns his hand gestures perfectly, and then smiles; an expression that is perhaps universal.  Not wanting to miss his flight, the alien then makes his way up the ramp (Joshua was impressed to learn that the older alien was an animatronic constructed by Carlo Rambaldi, the same man who designed the titular “E.T.”). From a safe distance, Barry and his mother say “goodbye” to the massive vessel, as it glows a fiery orange, before rising majestically up towards the stars.

The End.

Note: After the credits finished, we sated any curiosity Joshua may have had about the mothership interior by playing the final scene of the 1980 Special Edition, in order to let him see the mothership interior for himself. He seemed nonplussed by it, and to be honest, I never liked it, either. It struck me as over-the-top and impractical for longterm occupancy. I would’ve preferred that the mothership’s inner workings remain a secret.

“This way to debriefing.”

Perhaps not too surprisingly, Joshua was less impressed by the spectacle of CE3K, which admittedly blew my own 11-year old brain back in late 1977. Joshua was more into the mystery and buildup of the story, as well as the dramatic breakdown of Roy Neary (Dreyfuss), and the toll it took on his family. Kathy responded with empathy to the plight of single mother Jillian Guiller (Dillon) after her young son Barry is abducted by aliens, and I absolutely believe Kathy would climb any mountain necessary to get her son back in those circumstances.

Since this was a private screening among friends, I had no issues with Joshua asking questions or making observations to what he was seeing; in fact, that’s one of the things I enjoy most about these movie nights—hearing the feedback from a new generation. Occasionally, my wife and I (both huge fans of CE3K) would point out little Easter eggs here and there; most famously, the appearance of an upside-down R2-D2 clinging to the saucer section of the mothership as it slowly emerges up from behind Devil’s Tower (how it managed to hide there is anyone’s guess). I also noted the appearance of the late Carl Weathers (“Rocky” 1-4, “Predator”) playing the military policeman who threatens to shoot Roy.

Since Joshua plays the clarinet, and is an avid fan of composer John Williams, he was very keen on the music of the film. The score for CE3K is among the composer’s most memorable; particularly the iconic five-note musical phrase from the aliens, which is deliberately open-ended and enigmatic—almost musical question. Having also enjoyed the aforementioned “E.T.” and “Jurassic Park,” it’s safe to say Joshua is also a fan of director Steven Spielberg, as well. When I asked what he’d like to see on his next movie night, the answer came without hesitation; “JAWS.” This is another favorite movie of ours, so my wife and I immediately agreed. Spielberg’s “JAWS” is also the perfect summer movie, having inaugurated the age of the summer blockbuster. We’re gonna need a bigger garage…

Overall, Kathy and Joshua enjoyed CE3K, though 12-year old Joshua was less goo-goo eyed by the visual trappings than I was around his age. As my wife correctly pointed out, Joshua’s grown up in an era where jaw-dropping visual effects can literally be created with apps from a smartphone. Nevertheless, I was grateful to see that the movie’s story—despite its occasional plot holes and gaps in logic—was still entertaining enough on its own merits. CE3K is a movie that demands as large a screen as possible too; not just for the effects, but for the scope. CE3K goes all over the world with its narrative (from Mexico’s Sonora desert and the Midwestern United States all the way to Northern India). It even throws in legendary French filmmaker François Truffaut (“Jules et Jim”) as well. To quote Truffaut’s ‘Claude Lacombe’ in the film, “This is an event sociological.”

Here’s hoping the movie motivates one more teenaged kid to “watch the skies” with renewed awe. Wonder if he’ll start playing the five tones on his clarinet, too…?

Where To Watch

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind” is not currently available on any US-based streaming service that I can find, but it is available for streaming rental/purchase via Amazon, YouTube, iTunes, GooglePlay and others. Of course, the movie is also available on a gorgeous Blu-Ray/4K set which has all versions of the film, as well as a plethora of bonus features, including a terrific early-2000s documentary on the making of the film. The Blu-Ray/4K set is available at Amazon or Barnes & Noble.com. I would also encourage any fans of the film to check out the hardback book “Close Encounters of the Third Kind: The Ultimate Visual History” by Michael Klastorin, as well “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” by actor Bob Balaban (“Laughlin”). Both are available on Amazon and eBay (prices vary by seller).