Ancient, grotesque space monster falls
in love with horny, suburban divorcee; not the kind of children's
story you'd expect to become one of the most beloved and highest
grossing movies of all time. Yet this is exactly the premise of
William Kotzwinkle’s 1982 novelisation of E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial.
Those of you with fond memories of a charming and somewhat traumatising boy-meets-alien story might be surprised to find that, in the novelisation, Elliott barely rates a mention. Until the third act, Kotzwinkle spends more time detailing the thoughts and feelings of Harvey the dog than the human protagonist of the film. Instead, he reframes the story from E.T.’s perspective, with Elliott’s mum Mary taking second billing.
When Elliott is first introduced, he is
described as a bespectacled 'twerp’ and a mediocre neurotic; 'the
sort of person who falls under a train'.
To be fair, none of the
people in Kotzwinkle’s novelisation are particularly endearing.
It’s almost as if the author didn’t like any of Spielberg's
characters, and wanted to share his disdain with his readers. Mary is
portrayed as a depressed, broken woman with little compassion for her
children. Elliott's brother Michael is a bully who can't stand either
of his siblings. Even E.T. himself fails to escape Kotzwinkle's dour
lens. He is not portrayed as the benign Christlike figure we see in
the film, nor is he the cute icon that adorned literally everything
in the early eighties. Instead, he is recast as an old scientist who
barely tolerates the humans that house him. He frequently refers to
the children as dumb and a nuisance. He fantasises about
Elliott’s mother and watches her sleep (like a million year old
pot-bellied creep). Everyone who sees him describes him as a monster.
When he is captured by the authorities, a doctor refers to E.T.’s
‘unspeakable ugliness’ and the fact that it is ‘natural to hate
such an object and wish it dead’.
Although he initially finds his
own appearance attractive, after spending time with the humans, E.T.
also views himself as a malformed, repugnant freak.
Kotzwinkle strips the film of all
Spielbergian sentimentality (and Star Wars references). Elliott and
the children don't fall in love with E.T. so much as they are
brainwashed by his telepathic powers. There's no indication that
Agent Keys has anything but contempt for 'the little bastard … the
no-good little sonofabitch' Elliott, and therefore no chance that
Keys will fill the role left by Elliott's missing father. Even the
heart-wrenching, climactic scene where E.T. bids farewell to his
friends is drained of all emotion, and transcribed in a single page –
as if Kotzwinkle had seen the finish line and decided to barrel ahead
with none of the literary flourishes he'd peppered throughout the
novel.
The lack of sentimentality is not the
only difference between the book and the film. As expected, the
deleted scenes found on the DVD are reinserted – including E.T.'s
near drowning in the bathtub and Elliott's meeting with the school
principal (played by a faceless Harrison Ford). Both of these scenes,
though, are expanded upon in unexpected ways.
In the film version, E.T. is left alone
in a bathtub full of water and is later found fully submerged. This
is played for laughs (oh ho, he might have drowned!), yet in the
novelisation, E.T. is not naïve to the dangers of water, nor is he
merely getting his kicks from holding his breath beneath it. Instead,
he is using his microfocus to track tiny aquatic forms in the water.
When admonishing Elliot for the frog
incident, the school principal ruminates on the former principal of
the school who had been convicted of being a sexual offender. After
witnessing Elliott levitating in his office, he swallows a handful of
quaaludes from his confiscated drugs drawer. This is not your
typical, children's movie fare, and only one of many drug references
throughout the book. One such scene involves Harvey the dog
attempting to hide E.T. from Mary by dancing on his hind legs in
front of him. Mary asks Harvey, “Did Michael put speed in your Alpo?”
E.T.'s powers are also explained and
expanded upon in ways that are not apparent in the film. He excretes
gas from his toes to create the mist that camouflages him at the
beginning of the story. He converses with plants and vegetables (yet
their sentience doesn't stop him from eating them when hungry), and
has the ability to enter the dreams of humans. He can burn holes
through metal with his magic fingers, use sign language to explain
the meaning of life, the universe and everything, and heal injured
miners via live television stream.
Other differences in the book include
multiple references to the sublime deliciousness of M&Ms (before
Mars, Inc. refused permission for the use of their product in the
film), and a couple of random encounters with an owl – which bear a striking resemblance to the awful prairie dog gags in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. The novelisation also alters
the age of the Dungeons and Dragons crew (Tyler, Greg and Steve),
making them fifth graders like Elliott. They are in his Biology
class; witnesses to his drunken emancipation of the frogs, and
earlier, his unconscious doodlings of Speak and Spell schematics on
the blackboard in front of the class.
There is another character that appears
to either have been deleted from the film entirely, or
surreptitiously added by the author – Lance. Lance is a nerd. He
looks like a nerd, is constantly referred to as a nerd, and is
disliked by all who meet him. In the book, Lance discovers Elliott's
secret and becomes telepathically linked to E.T. Lance helps the gang
escape the authorities by sending them in the opposite direction, and
leads Mary and Gertie to the landing site. He is superfluous and
unlikeable, but another interesting surprise in a book full of
surprises.
Although Kotzwinkle's take on the film
is somewhat jarring, it elevates what might have been a simple
retelling of E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial into something more. Like the
best film adaptations, the author has built upon the source material
to create a text that is substantially different, yet still familiar.
It doesn't necessarily change our opinion of the movie or its
characters; instead, it presents us with a new, fresh perspective.
His follow-up book, E.T. The Book of
the Green Planet, was published three years after the film's release
and begins immediately where the previous story ends. Did the film's
sentimentality and reception temper Kotzwinkle's dark prose? Did his
writing soften to pander to a younger audience? Is the novel of an
unmade sequel of a 37 year old film of any interest to anyone other
than me? Leave your answers and comments in the section below.
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