The decent turnout, at least beforehand, included a couple I'm fond of, Dawn Taylor and Patrick Hurley, a welcome sight after his scarifying hospital emergencies. He's home now, thank goodness, instead of in the hospital or in adult care. I visited with them briefly at their dinner, then let them sit together by themselves again. Dawn said that it felt like they were having a date. I didn't want to be an overbearing chaperone. *grins*
A mostly good audience (a few over-talkers a row or two behind me, but I didn't get annoyed enough to ask them to stop, and they were less annoying as the film went on): we even cheered a moment I was sure would get laughs, at the end when the alien ship basically farts out a rainbow. The moment earlier where the men in full-on NASA spacesuits invade Elliott's family home, such a wrong and disturbing moment for me, got laughs, but reactions like that were rare. This audience got into the earnestness of it, and accepted the manipulations of it. This film's a reminder that manipulation does not have to be a bad thing.
You might appreciate the Cort and Fatboy movie commentary about the film. And if you're in a horror mood, you can watch this kind of bloody trailer for an E.T. horror sequel. Fatboy did, and it played like gangbusters. So did Henry Thomas's tear-filled audition for the role of Elliott, which ends with Steven Spielberg saying "OK, kid, you got the job."
Also, in a nicely hey-we-can-learn-something-neat-from-thi
And the next Midnight Movie, happening Friday, Feb. 10th at the Bagdad as usual, will be John Hughes's The Breakfast Club.
Next for me? More bed time. I hope more sleep time. Not enough of it last night. But think about this: does E.T. actually need to sleep?
