I recently purchased the Blu-Ray edition of Steven Spielberg’s classic Close Encounters of the Third Kind and finally got around to watching it this past weekend. The disc contains three versions: the original theatrical release, the special edition and the director’s cut. I went right for the director’s cut, having seen the other two versions many times.

And the director’s cut is definitely superior, though, with the exception of the very end, the differences in versions are subtle. It’s amazing what five minutes more can do for character development. If you’ve seen CETK before and liked it, then the director’s cut is definitely for you. And if you’ve never seen CETK, then don’t even bother with the theatrical or special edition, go straight to the director’s cut.

But this post is not a review. Having grown-up with this movie, I can’t be objective about it. Plus it holds a special place in my heart due to the film’s finale setting at Devils Tower, which is just a few miles from my mother’s hometown of Hulett, Wyo.

This post is to share the major beef I have with one of my favorite films. Actually, it’s a beef I have with a many of my favorite films – the misplaced southern accent. You know the scene. Roy Neary arrives at the train depot which is crowded with evacuees. Amongst the crowd is a huckster salesman hawking gas masks. And he’s doing so with a loud, thick southern accent. Argh!

With a little research, I’ve determined that it is probably a Texas accent, but it doesn’t matter… No one from Wyoming, South Dakota, Montana, North Dakota or Idaho sounds like this. I get stuck on this more than any of the geographic continuity problems that riddle the movie. I start wondering, so this guy hears there’s a toxic spill in Wyoming, goes to his Lubbock, Texas army surplus store and buys a pickup load of gas masks, grabs his hound dog and travels 950 miles to take advantage of the panicking evacuees? Huh?

I haven’t listened to the commentary track during this scene, perhaps Spielberg has something profound to say about this that will help me get pasted this stumbling block. If not, then to reconcile this in my mind I’ve decided to develop a back story for this character, making him part of the ham-handed UN/Army cover-up. I would like to think that on his return trip he stops in a bar in Moorcroft and is severely beaten by a couple of roughneck’s he tries to cheat at cards.

Aw. I feel better.