Close encounter with 'Close Encounters'

It would have been enough just to see my favorite film of all time on the big screen again. It wound up being so much more than that.

But first I had to wrangle a ticket to the Metrograph screening of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (For those who need to know, they were showing the Directors' Cut, which has all the best parts of the original film, includes the special edition's Cotopaxi scene and -- thank gawd -- eliminates the view from inside the spaceship.) The Lower East Side cinema has a small intimate house, so tickets were pretty much gone when I found out about the movie after New Year's.

I wasn't daunted, though. My original plan was to stand outside the venue with a replica of the "Stop and be friendly" sign utilized in the movie with a note at the bottom, "And I need a ticket!!" After contacting the box office, I found out that the wheelchair-accessible seats were up for grabs and I quickly snatched one up.

The next night I headed to the theater. Boy, did I get turned around on the Lower East Side. Even Google Maps could not save me, but I did make it to theater on time. I started talking movies with my "neighbor" to my right -- Chris. Then my neighbor to the left arrived and she and Chris were chatting away. Since I was in the middle, I wound up in the conversation and heard all about how much she loved the movie. I said it was my favorite, she said she would say it was her favorite, but her husband wouldn't like that. Her husband? The late, great director Ken Russell.

Right before the film started, Bob Balaban (who played the interpreter for Francois Truffaut's character) was introduced. But he was too busy renewing ties with Lisi Tribble Russell to make his way to the front of the room. Eventually Bob got up there and said a few words about Close Encounters being the most complete film he'd ever been a part of. Then it was show time.

Lisi was a great person to watch the film with. She and I led the applause when director of photography Vilmos Zigmond's name came on the screen during the opening's abbreviated credits. We laughed through the whole thing like old friends and exhaled heavily after the tenser moments of the movie -- like the scene in which Richard Dreyfuss' character is building Devils Tower in his living room. The news is showing reports of an "accident" near the actual Devils Tower, but he's so busy talking on the phone that he doesn't see it for a couple of minutes.

It was amazing seeing my fave flick on the big screen for the first time since the Special Edition came out in 1980. There were so many details to be noticed, from the Soap Opera Digest on Jillian Guiler's end table -- Bill and Susan Hayes (Doug and Julie from Days of Our Lives, who are later seen on the television when Roy Neary constructs that living-room tower) -- to Melinda Dillon's tears when they spot the actual Devils Tower off in the distance.

 

After the movie, Bob did a Q&A. My meticulously prepared question fell by the wayside when he told the story of looking so much like Richard's character in Jaws that members of the crew at lunch would ask Balaban for his autograph, even when Dreyfuss was sitting nearby. The two of them went to the Jaws premiere together, and again fans came up to Bob thinking he was Richard, even though clean-shaven Dreyfuss was with him.

Balaban also recounted the audition process. He was asked to speak French and basically bluffed his way to the job with the minimal Francais he was able to string together. Obviously, working with the amazing Truffaut was a highlight, and he talked about how the famed director never second-guessed choices made by Steven Spielberg. "He really was looking forward to just being in his movie," Bob said of Francois. "He was a fantastic, gentle, loving person. And he admired Steven tremendously."

Even so, the duo never had any idea of what the final result was going to be, mainly because there wasn't any green screen, it was just Spielberg explaining what they were supposed to be seeing. "We had no idea of the emotional undercurrent," Balaban explained. "In a lot of the scenes, we were just standing around and applauding."

I did ask another question on the fly. There's a great scene at Devils Tower in which Truffaut and Balaban's characters are talking to an Army major about those "touched by the implanted vision" who came to the site despite great risks. Everything Francois said in French, Bob quickly translated into English. But at the end of the scene, in English, Truffaut says, "Because this means something." Then Balaban repeats what he said in English. So I asked whether that was planned or just came out of the moment.

"It's possible I made a mistake and he kept it," Bob told us. I responded that it worked really well. Obviously that was why it made Spielberg's final cut -- in all three versions of the film.

Balaban ended up writing a great little book on his experience. Originally called the Close Encounters of the Third Kind Diary, it's now known as Spielberg, Truffaut & Me -- guess which one I have? Letters to his wife and the impetus of writing a term paper ultimately enabled him to complete the book. Bob hasn't done that for any other film he's worked on -- "I didn't want to be known as the mole on the set," he quipped.

I'd heard some of the Q&A stories before, but one of the ones not in his book and which he had just heard recently was simultaneously creepy and funny. One of the people who helped put together the the mother ship said dead mice found in the excrutiatingly hot studio space were stapled to the bottom to make the model more elaborate and alien. "No mice were hurt in the making of film," Balaban quickly added.

After that, some of us remained to talk with Bob. I brought the booklet from my Close Encounters Blu-Ray box and flipped to Balaban's page for the signature. Around that time, others milling about pointed out my Devils Tower cap and Close Encounters soundboard sweatshirt. I'm glad Bob wasn't bothered by that. I told him I love him in so many things, which is so true, but that this particular film is my favorite of all time. It was very refreshing that he seemed to appreciate that and didn't look at me as though I was one of the aliens.
 
And then the camera on my brand-new iPhone Special Edition -- named Cotopaxi after the ship found in the desert during Close Encounters Special Edition -- stopped working. Luckily, I met another great person that day named Shade. (He showed me his driver's license to prove that's his moniker, even though I said it wasn't necessary.) He took the picture and gave me his email address so I could get it from him later. I'd like to point out how patient Balaban was during all of this. He didn't turn tail and run either, I think he talked with everyone who stayed behind.

He speaks "superfan" really, really well.