Steven Spielberg didn't want a polished actor. He wanted a kid who could lie to his face with total conviction. When a seven-year-old girl walked into the audition room and told him she didn't want to be an actress because she was actually the lead singer of a scary punk rock band called the "Purple People Eaters," he knew he’d found Gertie. That kid was Drew Barrymore. The Drew Barrymore E.T. film connection isn't just a piece of 1982 trivia; it is the definitive moment that shifted how Hollywood treated—and often exploited—childhood innocence on screen.
Honestly, it’s hard to imagine anyone else screaming at a shriveled brown alien in a closet with that much authentic terror.
The Audition That Changed Everything
Most people think Drew got the part because of the Barrymore dynasty. It's a fair assumption. Her grandfather was John Barrymore, the "Great Profile" of the silent era. But Spielberg wasn't looking for a pedigree. He was looking for someone who could hold their own against a mechanical puppet that cost a fortune to build and often broke down on set.
During the casting process, Drew didn't just read lines. She lived in a world of make-believe that was so intense it actually blurred the lines of reality for the entire crew. She famously believed the E.T. puppet was a living, breathing entity.
You’ve probably heard the stories. Between takes, Drew would be seen tucked away in a corner of the soundstage, sharing her lunch with the animatronic figure or wrapping a scarf around its neck so it wouldn't get cold. Spielberg, seeing this, gave strict orders to the effects team: keep the puppet "alive" at all times. If Drew was on set, E.T. had to be blinking, breathing, and reacting. This wasn't just to be nice. It was a calculated move to preserve the raw, unforced performance that makes the Drew Barrymore E.T. film experience so gut-wrenching for audiences even forty years later.
Why the Performance Works (and Why It’s Different)
Child acting in the late 70s was often stiff. Think of the "stage parent" era where kids were taught to hit marks and recite lines with a high-pitched, unnatural cadence. Drew broke that.
As Gertie, she is messy. She is bratty. She is genuinely confused.
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The scene where she first encounters E.T. in Elliott’s room is a masterclass in reactive acting. That scream isn't a "Hollywood scream." It’s a jagged, ear-piercing sound of a child who thinks a monster is about to eat her. But look at the transition. Within minutes of screen time, she goes from terror to maternal instinct, dressing the alien in a wig and pearls.
That shift—the ability to move from fear to empathy—is the core of the film’s success. It’s also why Drew Barrymore became an overnight sensation. She wasn't playing a character; she was providing the emotional proxy for every child in the theater.
The Dark Side of the "Extra-Terrestrial" Fame
We have to talk about the fallout.
Success like this is heavy. The Drew Barrymore E.T. film debut launched her into a stratosphere that no seven-year-old is equipped to handle. By the time she was nine, she was a regular at Studio 54. By twelve, she was in rehab.
It’s easy to look back and judge the parenting or the industry, but the reality is more complex. The film made $792 million worldwide. It was a cultural juggernaut. When you are the face of the most successful movie in history, people stop seeing you as a child and start seeing you as a commodity.
Spielberg famously felt a sense of guilt over this. He became her godfather, trying to provide the stability her home life lacked. He once gave her a note that simply said, "Put your clothes on," after she posed for a magazine in her late teens, trying to remind her of the little girl he’d protected on the set of the Universal backlot.
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Debunking the Myths of the E.T. Set
There are a few things people get wrong about this production.
- The "Secret" Script: People say the actors didn't know the ending. That's mostly true. Spielberg filmed in chronological order, which is incredibly expensive and rare. He did this specifically for the kids. He wanted their grief during E.T.’s "death" scene to be as real as possible because they had spent months bonding with the creature in sequence.
- The Voice: Contrary to some weird internet rumors, Drew did not voice E.T. That was Pat Welsh, a woman with a very specific, raspy voice from years of smoking, mixed with sound effects of animals.
- The Reese’s Pieces: Yes, they were used because M&Ms turned them down. But the reason Gertie’s reaction to them was so good? Drew actually liked them. No acting required.
The Technical Magic of the 1980s
We live in a CGI world now. Everything is green screen and motion capture.
But in the Drew Barrymore E.T. film, the physical presence of the alien mattered. Carlo Rambaldi, the creature designer, created something that was purposely "ugly-cute." It had the eyes of Albert Einstein and the body of a squash.
For a child actor, having a 3D object to touch, smell, and look at changes the chemistry of a scene. When Gertie says "I don't like his feet," she’s looking at actual mechanical feet clicking on a wooden floor. That tactile reality is why the movie hasn't aged a day. You can feel the dust in the air and the coldness of the forest.
Reimagining the Child Star Path
Drew Barrymore eventually reclaimed her narrative. She didn't become a "where are they now" tragedy. She started her own production company, Flower Films, and became a mogul.
But she’s always been vocal about how E.T. was the best and worst thing to happen to her. It gave her a career, but it stole her anonymity before she even knew what the word meant.
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In 2022, for the 40th anniversary, she reunited with the cast on her talk show. Seeing her sit there with Henry Thomas (Elliott) and Robert MacNaughton (Michael) was a reminder that they are survivors of a very specific kind of madness. They were the first "viral" kids of the modern era, long before social media existed to amplify the noise.
What We Can Learn From Gertie Today
If you’re a filmmaker or a creator, there’s a massive lesson in how Spielberg handled Drew. He didn't over-direct her. He set up the environment and let her react.
The "blueprint" for child stardom has changed since 1982, mostly because we are more aware of the psychological toll. But the artistic blueprint remains:
- Cast for personality, not just lines.
- Create a physical environment that minimizes "acting" and maximizes "being."
- Film chronologically if the emotional arc is the priority.
- Protect the talent after the cameras stop rolling.
The legacy of the Drew Barrymore E.T. film isn't just a red hoodie or a glowing finger. It’s the proof that audiences can see through artifice. We don't want perfect kids; we want kids who remind us of how it felt to believe that a visitor from the stars might actually be hiding in our toy closet.
Actionable Takeaways for Movie Buffs and Historians
If you want to truly appreciate the craftsmanship of this era, go back and watch the "making of" footage specifically focusing on the puppet's eyes. You’ll see the operators mimicking Drew’s blinking patterns.
For those interested in the history of child actors, compare Drew's trajectory to contemporary stars like the Stranger Things cast. You’ll see a much more robust support system in place today—largely because of the "cautionary tale" years that followed Drew’s early success.
To see the direct influence, watch how directors like J.J. Abrams or the Duffer Brothers use child actors. They are all chasing that specific lightning in a bottle that happened when a curly-haired girl met a puppet in 1982. It was a fluke of casting and a miracle of practical effects that we likely won't see replicated in the age of AI.
The best way to experience the film now isn't on a phone screen. Find a local theater doing a "classic night" screening. The scale of the ship at the end and the sheer volume of the John Williams score is meant to be felt in your chest, just like seven-year-old Drew felt it on that soundstage.