UFOs of all shapes and sizes nonchalantly buzz the dirt roads and rusty mailboxes of a rural midwest town, leaving both physical and emotional marks upon its residents. Those who encounter the flying saucers are fundamentally changed, an overnight mind swap which leads to all manner of frustration among friends, coworkers and family members. For story reasons, these mental milkshakes function as a sort of inefficient cross-species ham radio, rewiring brain waves to bridge a communication gap, but they also serve as a (perhaps unintentional) indictment of how society viewed psychological health in the late 70s. In fact, it could be argued that the whole climax - spacecraft, aliens and all - is a particularly loud, ambitious hallucination, but we won't go too far down that rabbit hole.

Even on a superficial level, _Close Encounters_ works just fine. We chase the thread of an ambiguous mystery, encounter official organized responses, see spectacular sights, soak in an expertly-matched symphonic score (hats off to John Williams, once again) and share a sense of awe-struck wonder at the sheer magnitude of it all. That last bit, in particular, is worth emphasizing. Writer/director Steven Spielberg, fresh off the monster success of _Jaws_, leans heavily on anticipation and a looming sense of the unknown to add oodles of atmosphere to the picture. Especially in that pivotal final thirty minutes, when the whole plot comes together under the shadow of a funny-looking Wyoming rock formation, it's an eerie, unpredictable blend that reaps great rewards.