‘Once my tummy stopped shaking, I was absorbed by the scale, spectacle and wonder’: your Steven Spielberg film favourites
Andrea, Manchester, UK
Once my tummy stopped shaking I was – At the age of eight, I first encountered Spielberg’s work at the Bolton Odeon cinema in 1982, and it was ET that left an indelible mark. The film wasn’t just a movie for me—it became a catalyst for profound emotional shifts. I remember being overwhelmed by a mix of happiness and sadness, to the point where I cried uncontrollably on the bus ride home. The duality of my feelings was so intense that I couldn’t comprehend how a single story could evoke such contrasting emotions. My mother and her friends from the Gingerbread Club, a community group supporting single parents, accompanied me that day. At the time, single parenthood was still viewed with skepticism, and the film’s portrayal of a mother and her child as central characters offered a rare sense of validation. The sense of connection it provided felt deeply personal, anchoring me to a reality that was both familiar and extraordinary. Years later, I still find myself returning to the film, not just for its nostalgic charm, but for the way it captured the magic of childhood. The Christmas gift that year—a doll of the alien with a glowing stomach and fingertip—reminded me of the film’s whimsy and wonder. Even now, the opening notes of John Williams’s iconic score can bring me to tears, a testament to the lasting power of that first cinematic experience.
“ET holds a special place in my heart as Spielberg’s most cherished cinematic work.”
Scott Harrison, North Wales, UK
Close Encounters of the Third Kind remains the Spielberg film that shaped my earliest memories of cinema. The incident was unplanned but unforgettable: my mother and I were dropped off at a cinema on the opposite side of town from our intended destination, due to a mix-up with my father. As we settled into the dark, damp seats, I was both anxious and intrigued. My mother had already expressed concerns about the film’s intensity, warning that it might unsettle me. Yet, the moment the credits rolled and the screen faded to black, I was already captivated. The film’s grandeur and mystery resonated with me in a way that felt almost otherworldly. I still recall the scene where the alien craft hovered silently above the town, its light illuminating the faces of strangers in a shared moment of awe. That night, I asked my mother to leave the curtains open so I could gaze at the stars, a small act that symbolized the film’s deeper message about curiosity and the unknown. Despite Spielberg’s own doubts about its success, the movie became a cornerstone of my childhood, its themes of wonder and connection lingering long after the final frame.
“Once my tummy stopped shaking, I was absorbed by the scale, spectacle and wonder.”
The circumstances of my first viewing of Close Encounters were far from ideal. It was a rainy evening, and the choice to watch the film instead of returning home was an act of courage on my mother’s part. She had been apprehensive, but I was drawn to the alien world unfolding on screen. The experience of being immersed in the film’s imaginative scope was transformative. It wasn’t just a story about extraterrestrial life—it was a gateway to a new way of seeing the world. The combination of suspense, emotion, and visual grandeur made it feel like a revelation. Even today, the film’s legacy lives on in the way it inspired me to embrace the mysteries of life with open curiosity. The lingering fear I initially felt gave way to a deep sense of belonging, as if the movie had unlocked a part of me I hadn’t known existed. That film, though often labeled a commercial misstep, holds an emotional weight that no blockbuster could ever replicate.
Rhea, Melbourne, Australia
While ET was my first Spielberg film, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is the one that continues to resonate with me most deeply. It wasn’t just the film’s content that made it meaningful—it was the context in which I first watched it. The experience of seeing it in a cinema on a rainy evening, with my mother’s reassurance that I was safe, created a unique bond between us. The film’s themes of wonder and exploration struck a chord in my young mind, offering a sense of possibility that felt tangible. I remember being so engrossed that I didn’t notice the time passing, my fear of the unknown dissolving into fascination. The moment the alien craft appeared above the town, I felt a connection to something greater than myself. Even as an adult, I return to the film for its ability to transport me back to a time of pure innocence and imagination. The soundtrack, the way the screen seemed to glow with an ethereal light, and the subtle yet powerful message that fear can be overcome by curiosity—all of it lingers in my heart.
“Girl clothes!”
Spielberg’s films often blend heartwarming narratives with thrilling action, but Always stands out as a perfect example of this balance. The movie’s charm lies in its ability to evoke both laughter and tears, a duality that mirrors the complexity of human emotions. The interactions between Holly Hunter’s character and Richard Dreyfuss’s portrayal of the quirky scientist are so endearing that they feel like a slice of life. The phrase “Girl clothes!” remains a favorite, a simple line that captures the film’s blend of humor and sincerity. Every few years, I revisit Always, and it never fails to remind me of the joy of shared human experiences. The film’s timeless message about love and connection is often overshadowed by Spielberg’s more high-octane productions, but its gentle, heartfelt storytelling continues to inspire me. It’s a reminder that even in a world of superheroes and space aliens, the simplest moments can be the most profound.
Karen Cusick, Devon, UK
When I think of Spielberg’s most enduring works, Raider immediately comes to mind. The film’s blend of adventure, humor, and heart is a masterclass in cinematic storytelling. The characters, especially the dynamic between Indiana Jones and his companions, feel like a family of misfits who somehow manage to find purpose in their chaos. The action sequences are thrilling, but it’s the quieter moments—the shared glances, the lingering dialogue—that leave the deepest impression. Raider is a film that brings people together, its universal appeal transcending age and culture. Even as an adult, I find myself watching it for the sheer joy of the journey, the way it balances peril with laughter. The phrase “Girl clothes!” from Always is a favorite, but in Raider, the line “I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore” captures the essence of escapism and wonder. It’s a film that reminds me of the power of storytelling to transport us beyond our everyday lives.
Spielberg’s films often dominate the conversation about summer blockbusters, but Always holds a special place in my heart. The story of a group of people who find love and meaning in their lives, despite the odds,
