Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

Roy Neary sculpts a mountain out of mashed potatoes at the dinner table, and the looks on his kids’ faces are the most honest thing here. Close Encounters is so in love with Roy’s obsession that it barely registers what it costs the people at home. Teri Garr’s Ronnie gets written as the wife who just doesn’t get it, which is unfair, and the middle stretch of Roy tearing up his yard to chase a shape in his head drags. Otherwise, Steven Spielberg is untouchable. Lights rush past a truck on a dark road, toys switch on by themselves in a toddler’s bedroom, and Melinda Dillon fighting to keep her son inside a house under siege is genuinely scary. Richard Dreyfuss plays Roy with a goofy, sunburned joy. The finale is pure awe. It made $306.9 million worldwide on a reported $19.4M. An 8.7 because the wonder is real, even if Roy’s family deserved a better movie. $989 says you tap out five notes on the next keyboard you pass and wait for the lights to answer.

What works: Spielberg’s sense of awe is overwhelming, from the night road encounter to the finale, and the five-note theme is unforgettable.

What doesn’t: Roy’s family gets steamrolled by his obsession, Ronnie is written as an obstacle, and the middle stretch of him rebuilding the mountain drags.

Who it’s for: Anyone who has stared at the night sky a little too long and wants a movie that stares back with them.