[On July
8th, 1947, something
happened in Roswell, New Mexico. It was probably just a
weather balloon (or like a really big condor), but ever since a
not-insignificant community of Americans have believed that an alien landed
there and was covered up by the US government. So this week I’ll AmericanStudy
Roswell and other cultural representations of aliens in America, leading up to
a special weekend post on one of the most famous and influential such
representations ever, The X-Files!]
On two superficially
similar films that feature very distinct portrayals of both America and aliens.
Two of the most
prominent cinematic representations of alien encounters feature similar title
images of those encounters: Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters
of the Third Kind (1977) and Robert Zemeckis’ Contact (1997).
Spielberg was a kind of mentor
to Zemeckis, executive producing the younger director’s first two films
(both released in the three years after Close
Encounters), and so it’s quite possible that Contact (released almost exactly 20 years after Close Encounters) was partially intended
as a tribute to the earlier film (although its title is drawn from Carl
Sagan’s 1985 novel on which it’s based). And the two films do follow a
fundamentally similar structure when it comes to those alien encounters
[SPOILERS for the two films here and in the rest of this post]: opening with a
partial and uncertain such encounter and then following a group of characters
attempting to connect more definitively with these aliens and, in the film’s culminating
scenes, able to do so more definitively.
Yet when it
comes to both those main characters and the aliens they encounter, Close Encounters and Contact differ in striking and significant
ways. Spielberg’s film focuses on ordinary Americans, working-class
protagonists (Richard
Dreyfuss’s Roy Neary is an electrical lineman and Melinda Dillon’s Jillian
Guiler a working single mother) who are unexpectedly drawn into and
fundamentally changed by the alien encounters and the broader universe they
open up. Zemeckis’ film, on the other hand, focuses on scientists and parallel
figures (Jodie Foster’s
Dr. Ellie Arroway works for the SETI observatory and Matthew McConaughey’s Palmer
Joss is a spiritual leader with a lifelong obsession with theories of alien
life) who have long been concerned with the question of aliens and alien
encounters by the time the film opens. That difference doesn’t simply mean that
the two films portray quite distinct strata of American society (although they certainly
do). It also means that they depict the question of alien encounters through
very different perspectives and tones—for Spielberg’s characters, these are
shockingly strange questions that reveal a universe they had never known and entirely
shift their identities as a result; while for Zemeckis’, these are questions
toward which their whole lives have been trending and the answers to which will
determine whether their identities have been meaningful or ultimately
misguided.
Perhaps
relatedly, the two films also portray the aliens themselves in very distinct
ways. Close Encounter’s aliens look very much like our most
common images of extraterrestrials—oddly shaped heads atop thin necks, very
long fingers, and so on—and communicate in a language of their own, one
featuring hand gestures as well as the film’s famous musical
notes (courtesy of Spielberg’s favorite composer John Williams,
natch). In Contact, on the other
hand, we never really see the aliens, which is precisely the point: when Foster
finally makes contact, the alien she meets chooses to take the form of her late
father in order to connect with her more individually and intimately. Although
we are meant to understand that he is indeed an alien (rather than simply a
hallucination of Foster’s, as many of her peers believe), this choice
nonetheless makes Contact’s alien
encounter far more thematically focused on Foster’s character and identity than
on the aliens themselves; while Dreyfuss in particular does become similarly
obsessed with aliens in Close Encounters
(eventually leaving with them at the film’s conclusion), their depiction nonetheless
draws our attention to their striking form rather than simply his character. One
more significant difference between these two cinematic representations of
alien America.
Special post
this weekend,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other representations of aliens (in America or otherwise) you’d
highlight?
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