Rating: PG | Runtime: 138 minutes
Release Date: November 16th, 1977 (USA)
Studio: Columbia Pictures
Director(s): Steven Spielberg
Writer(s): Steven Spielberg

And any of you folks are worth more than a dog.

While I’m not surprised Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind was a critical success, I am shocked it also proved to be a commercial blockbuster. Because there’s no real story to follow beyond the esoteric draw of an extra-terrestrial phenomenon. The script neither concerns itself with focusing on why aliens have come to Earth nor the human aspect of Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss) letting his marriage implode. It’s merely a spiritual quest into the unknown.

It’s about finding answers. It’s about the imperative of discovery above all else. We see it clearest when Jillian (Melinda Dillon) recovers her son and instantly retreats back into the distance while Roy completely forgets about his own kids to move closer. He (as well as François Truffaut’s Lacombe) has sensed God. He’s found something more important than his physical self, family, or possessions. He seeks to discover his place within existence itself.

That’s some heady stuff that Paul Schrader apparently didn’t care to engage with when writing the original script that Spielberg called “one of the most embarrassing screenplays ever professionally turned in to a major film studio or director.” I love that sort of trivia because it reveals how long the cinematic process takes and the care some filmmakers wielded to ensure everything is right before rolling cameras. Schrader wanted plot. Spielberg wanted soul.

The UFO stuff is wild with all the different shapes and flight patterns (no wonder little Barry called them “toys”). Douglas Trumball’s effects and the numerous composites and matte paintings still look fantastic fifty years later. And it’s fun to spy Lance Henriksen in the background and Carl Weathers in the credits. But the real takeaway is the film’s ability to let Roy be consumed by his obsession without being villainized as a deadbeat dad.

Who doesn’t enjoy watching a patriarchal 1970s film hail a selfish man as heroically inspirational? You could write a book about the toxic masculinity on display (see Roy’s son calling him a “cry baby” while he and Teri Garr scream back rather than console). That’s the thing, though, right? When in service of a higher power, you’re supposed to be forgiven for forsaking everything else. But proving your faith often demands that others foot the emotional bill.

---

Richard Dreyfuss in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND.