Childhood is never quite as magical when you revisit it. Case in point: E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial, which has been given a refurbishing for its 20th anniversary. As a child, Steven Spielberg's poem to suburban single-parent loneliness struck a chord. I cried, my parents cried, and all of America cried--to the tune of a $300 million domestic gross (a record at the time).

Now that I am no longer eight, however, the magic of E.T. has dulled. Two decades have not aged the opus well, and much of what was once impressive is now merely ordinary. Sometimes clunky, sometimes just plain ridiculous, E.T. in 2002 lacks the lift it once had, and despite all of Spielberg's technical tweakings--the improved special effects and added scenes--the sense of wonder and excitement has not made the transition intact. Sure, you still get a little misty when E.T. comes back to life, but the overwhelming yank on the heartstrings the scene once had is more of a gentle tug. Is it because I've become ridiculously jaded? I suspect the answer is no--or at least, not entirely.

When you think back on when E.T. was originally released--two years into Reagan's first term--the general mood in America was one of a country entering hope. It was fertile ground for a sad, wonderful movie to catch hold about a lonely boy and an alien friend. America wanted to be happy, and E.T. made it possible.

Now, however, America doesn't seem to know if it can be happy, which is why E.T.'s blatant toying with our emotions more often than not lands with a thud. As much as I wanted to be whisked away by E.T. again, I couldn't, and all the imperfections I chose to ignore as a child glared back at me from the screen.

E.T. still offers an escape. It just doesn't take you as far as it once did.