Close Encounters of the Third Kind and War of the Worlds see Steven Spielberg tackling two large-scale alien “invasion” films in very different ways. And the 28 years that separate those two movies seem to be the main reason why they are so different.
Put simply, the world changed. And so did the man who made them.
The starkest difference between both films is probably their underlying ethos. In Close Encounters, every sequence involving the aliens is constructed in such a way as to inspire awe. Little Barry’s nighttime visitation specifically stands out in this regard because of one crucial detail: Barry is never scared. In fact, Barry willingly goes with the aliens. This belies the childlike wonder and exuberance for exploration that permeates the film, which is undoubtedly inspired by the Space Race excitement that permeated the decade.
This makes it no accident that John Williams weaved “When You Wish Upon a Star” from Pinocchio into his exhilarating score. And with that musical masterstroke, Spielberg’s message is clear: He wants us to believe. He wants us to reach out to the unknown, for the betterment of our world.
And these messages all come to a head in the epic “third encounter” that closes the film. It is a sweeping, moving, emotional light show of optimism and splendor, making those last thirty minutes quite possibly the most awe-inspiring of Spielberg’s career.
Moreover, those last thirty minutes also offer the biggest contrast between Spielberg’s two large-scale alien invasion films.
If Close Encounters is all about awe and wonder, then WOTW is all about shock and terror. By implementing his oft-explored theme of a broken family mending itself during a crisis, combining it with an intense (and 9/11-inspired) survival situation filled with tough moral choices, and instilling a true sense of uncomfortable dread into every scene, Spielberg seemed to go out of his way to make this his most chilling “popcorn movie” to date. Certainly, the dark cinematography and dreary atmosphere seem to be sending a message: Spielberg wants us to be afraid. He wants us to fight the unknown things that seek to hurt us.
Even if it means taking a life to protect the ones we love.
And yes, this is quite the contrast to Close Encounters - especially when we compare two of the most striking images from each film, both involving children.
The first is Close Encounter’s Barry, shown from the back, opening his front door to a soothing warm orange light. The second is WOTW’s Rachel, shown from the back, standing before a fleet of corpses floating down a river of cold shimmering light. There is no childlike wonder in this film, which is perfectly encapsulated by Rachel’s haunting line early on:
“Are we still alive?”
The contrasting use of light really stands out in those two images as well, serving as a reminder of the light-infused motifs each film adopts. The result is two very different sets of feelings stemming from one of Spielberg’s most effective tools - a technique we’ve seen him implement from the beginning of his career.
In Close Encounters, the aliens use light to communicate. This instills a calming sense of community every time we see those warm, brilliant beams. We feel drawn to these otherworldly visitors.
In WOTW, the aliens use light to destroy. This means any time we see those stark white light beams, it signifies yet another attack, instilling a nightmarish sense of paranoia. All we want to do is run.
And this makes one thing abundantly clear in both films: Even while choosing two different approaches to the same subject matter, Spielberg has an intuitive sense of how to marry spectacle to emotional depth. Meaning that all the technical prowess of Spielberg’s “spectacle” sequences wouldn't have mattered if we never believed for one second that Roy was in contact with a life-changing presence throughout Close Encounters, or that Ray and his family were in constant danger throughout WOTW.
As such, Spielberg makes us care by aptly putting us in his characters’ shoes, never diverging from their points of view. And that empathetic approach is what gives both films their emotional depth, even if said depth comes from two very divergent places that reflect the societal mindsets of their times and the shifting psychology of their director.
Another case in point: Consider how the notion of family is handled in both films. Close Encounters’ Roy represents the passionate idealism of a wayward man answering the call to become part of something bigger than himself (a metaphor for the personal escape of filmmaking, perhaps). In the end, Roy leaves – his calling is more important than his family.
On the other hand, WOTW’s Ray (notice the similar names) represents the passionate purpose of a wayward man answering the call to fight for his family. In the end, Ray stays – nothing is more important than his children.
And both characters serve as stand-ins for where Spielberg himself was in his life when he made those respective films. In that regard, I would go so far as to say that as much as Close Encounters is a Space Race allegory and WOTW is a 9/11 allegory, the latter also reads as a rebuttal against the former. It’s almost as if older Spielberg is taking younger Spielberg to task for having Roy leave his family behind.
All that said, Close Encounters was the first (and certainly not the last) time Spielberg brought sci-fi down to earth and made it feel real. As such, he redefined the ways in which such stories were told. And then, once the world became crueler and Spielberg became a father, he redefined himself again with War of the Worlds.
And a shifting worldview certainly explains why the same man can tell two very different stories with the same premise.
All in all, both of Spielberg’s large-scale alien invasion films argue that we are not alone. But one asks us to seek solace in the idealism of exploration, while the other asks us to stay grounded and protect those we love from the very real horrors of our world.
Even as we look to the stars.