Spielberg Returns to Aliens, and 'The Discovery' Looks Like a Film of the Year Contender

2026 is shaping up to be the biggest year for Hollywood aliens in this century. First came Rocky from "Project Hail Mary," and now the aliens are joined by those in Steven Spielberg’s new film, "The Discovery," which opened yesterday in theaters in Israel, and if you like, you can add the TV aliens from "Floribus." Hollywood turns to aliens when creators, studios and eventually audiences feel that America is in danger. And then aliens play a double role. On the one hand, they can be blamed for the crisis, removing responsibility from human beings, from humanity, from the government, and placing it on the other, the foreigner, the alien, in English, the word for an illegal immigrant and an alien is the same. On the other hand, aliens can also be the rescuers, the saviors, celestial beings who come to help us, to save us from ourselves. Spielberg, more often than not, prefers his aliens as good, curious and inquisitive creatures that arrive on Earth with no malicious intent. Although it is still too early to predict, it is safe to bet that "The Discovery," like "Project Hail Mary," will be a huge box office hit, and will lead many people to wonder, on the road to the Oscars, whether this is the best film of the year, at least when it comes to the meeting point between entertainment and art, between the commercial and the personal. Both are definitely Hollywood works of the kind that is becoming increasingly rare, dazzling and thrilling adventure films, full of suspense, action and humor, but also intelligent films that ask viewers to reflect on questions larger than the film itself: Are we alone in the universe? And what are our mission and responsibility in a world that is becoming increasingly chaotic? And both films, it seems to me, draw great inspiration from Carl Sagan’s book "Contact," which was adapted in 1997 into a landmark science fiction film by Robert Zemeckis. Steven Spielberg is about to turn 80. Indeed, in keeping with his age, he seemed to be looking for other kinds of material to work with, and the popcorn movies with which he was identified in his early Hollywood years in the 1970s seemed less interesting to him. Now he wants true historical stories with a moral lesson ("Lincoln," "Munich"), or autobiographical films ("The Fabelmans") or tributes to previous masterpieces ("West Side Story"). And even when he returns to popular culture and makes films with blockbuster potential, they work less well for him than they once did (see: "Ready Player One," "The BFG" and "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull").

Just to be clear: I am a Spielberg admirer, and I think he is a great director, regardless of the number of tickets sold or the number of Oscar nominations. Even his weaker films are far better than the best films of less talented directors. And in every film of his, whether science fiction or a true story, I can identify the man who made the film, his unique point of view and the themes that occupy him and that he has developed over a 55-year film career. That is why "The Discovery" is such a discovery. At 80, Spielberg directs an action film with the verve of a 35-year-old, the age he was when he made "Raiders of the Lost Ark." There is a lot to say about "The Discovery," and there are many interpretations one could offer for the film, but first of all, one must say what should be obvious, but no longer is: Spielberg is a wizard of cinema, and he never stops surprising, searching and innovating. His new film is a high-adrenaline action movie that, for most of its running time, is built around a nonstop chase. And it is superbly made. The familiar narrative structures from Hitchcock’s "The Man Who Knew Too Much" and "North by Northwest" meet an alien science fiction plot and are wrapped in a filmic package that is pure virtuosity.

The plot begins with a punch to the face, with zero exposition and straight into action, as Daniel, a computer expert (Josh O’Connor) serving the American security apparatus, decides to become William Snowden, steal the secret government information he was entrusted to protect, and publish it to the public, because the public has the right to know. These are future days with a pre-apocalyptic feeling, as military tensions intensify between the United States and North Korea, which appears to be edging toward nuclear war. This is a futuristic fictional event based on days that already existed in 1962, during the Cuban Missile Crisis. But our hero is quickly caught, his life partner (Eve Hewson, Bono’s daughter) is kidnapped, and her release is conditioned on the return of all the stolen material. The handoff point in the film’s first scene, a wrestling competition. A profile of contemporary America, of its current president, of its media, which only fans the flames of anger and conflict through fabrication and exaggeration, of a society that prefers gladiator wars in modern guise. It takes place in Virginia, on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. To the south, in Kansas City, Missouri, we meet Margaret (Emily Blunt), a television station weather forecaster, who suddenly discovers a series of strange events. She begins speaking languages she does not know and develops a supernatural ability to read minds. Her partner (Wyatt Russell, the son of Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell) is not thrilled by what is happening to her and tries to thwart her desire to go out and meet Daniel, whom she does not know, but whose sudden gift for channeling directs her toward him.

The person who tries to sabotage this meeting is the head of the shadow agency where Daniel worked, Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), the villain of our story. He believes that secrets should remain hidden, and that the information Daniel holds will cause such chaos that it could spark riots. Spielberg begins to pull things together, and there is another mysterious and interesting character worth paying attention to: Coleman Domingo also plays a former intelligence officer who crossed the line and helps Daniel publish the information he uncovered. But that character does something else too, he is busy building a set, a backdrop, inside a hangar that looks like a film studio. Why do government officials and leakers need scenery? There is an explanation in the plot, but this is the point at which Spielberg signals to us that his film contains dimensions that go beyond the worlds of science fiction, action and aliens. Like all his films, it deals with the essence of the story and the role of storytelling.

Spielberg, as noted, is almost 80. He looks healthy and energetic, but at this age it is fair to ask, with concern, how many more films he has left. He is making his 30th film with composer John Williams, who is 95. And this is his first film since 1978 not edited by Michael Kahn, who is 95. It is fair to assume that Kahn is no longer in shape to work on a full film, and that he passed the mouse to Sarah Broshar, who has been his assistant editor for the past 15 years, while Kahn receives a co-producer credit. Although the march of time is not visible in the film’s energy, it is hard to escape the feeling that "The Discovery" is, in part, a kind of closing conversation by Spielberg with the genre that was one of the keys to his great success.

At 17, Spielberg made a Super 8 amateur film, "Firelight," about a human encounter with aliens. At 32, he turned that high school idea into "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." In 1982, he created "E.T." Unlike Ridley Scott’s "Alien," which came out a year after "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," Spielberg believes in friendly aliens who come to Earth for research and out of curiosity. An exception was "War of the Worlds," the only film in his filmography in which the aliens emerging from beneath the earth are a destructive invading force, impossible to negotiate with for peace or surrender. In all these films, Spielberg tells us, the real existential danger comes from human beings and the way they respond to aliens, not from the aliens themselves. In these four films, Spielberg looks up at the sky and hopes to discover one day that we, human beings, are not alone. Not only to find out whether there are or are not aliens in this vast universe, but also to understand whether there is or is not a God.

When Spielberg talks about aliens and spacecraft, he is really talking about faith and theology. Is there someone listening to us? "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" shaped the encounter with the spacecraft as a variation on Mount Sinai, "E.T." was a paraphrase of the story of Jesus’ death, rebirth and ascent to heaven, according to the screenwriter, and "War of the Worlds" was presented as a kind of biblical disaster film in which a family must flee a catastrophe in the style of Noah’s flood or the fire and brimstone of Sodom and Gomorrah. In between, the mature Spielberg grew increasingly interested in the history of the American people and the Jewish people, and his science fiction films were his way of asking hypothetical questions about human nature: How do we behave when catastrophe stands before us, or alternatively, a miracle? And this is where the stories come in. Spielberg bows his head in humility before the storytellers who preceded him, and understands that like him, every film or story is not necessarily a distraction, but a turning of the gaze. "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" contained references to "Pinocchio," "E.T." included a quotation from "Peter Pan." And now "The Discovery" uses overt elements from "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" and "Hansel and Gretel."

The stories we were told as children probably contain a deeper meaning that we were not aware of when we first heard them. They deal with identity, exile and the search for home and family. There is room for aliens and also for God in "Contact," which became one of the greatest science fiction films of all time, where Carl Sagan paired the scientist with the priest and showed us that in moments like these there is an element of doubt in both professions, when faith comes into play. In "2001: A Space Odyssey," Kubrick presented ideas of creation and evolution taking place in different eras through external or alien intervention. A giant black monolith, perhaps a message from aliens, or a celestial covenant tablet with knowledge from an unknown source. Like them, Spielberg in all his films quietly asks questions of faith. Sometimes he deals directly with his Judaism, and sometimes, as in this film, he follows in the footsteps of Sagan and Zemeckis and uses a gaze toward the sky in search of aliens, but also of God. Cinema is a tool of faith. If we believe in cinema that there are aliens, vampires, ghosts, superheroes, miracles and wonders, why do we stop believing when we are outside the cinema?

Eve Hewson plays a former nun with a crisis of faith who fears that public disclosure of the existence of aliens will lead to mass apostasy, that aliens will become gods, and humanity will abandon God. But her abbess calms her and tells her that in creation there is room for both aliens and God, and indeed, perhaps it is good for humanity to understand that the universe does not revolve solely around it. A moment of humility on a global scale. And in a time of war, the aliens who arrive here have a mission for us, they have a message. They want to teach humanity empathy. They see the chaos in the world and want to whisper into our ears some teaching that will make us see the world in a new way, perhaps in a more considerate and compassionate one. Spielberg uses cinema so that we may see, but he asks us to learn how to listen.