The Unseen Spielberg: Why 'Always' Deserves a Second Chance
There’s something almost ironic about Steven Spielberg, the man who redefined blockbuster cinema, admitting that one of his most personal films is also one of his most overlooked. At SXSW, the legendary director singled out Always (1989) as his most underrated work—a film that, by most critical accounts, ranks among his weakest. But here’s the twist: Spielberg’s “weakest” is still more compelling than most directors’ best. And that, to me, is what makes this conversation so fascinating.
A Departure from the Spielberg We Know
Always isn’t your typical Spielberg fare. No dinosaurs, no aliens, no summer blockbuster spectacle. Instead, it’s a sentimental remake of A Guy Named Joe (1943), starring Richard Dreyfuss as a cocky firefighter-pilot who dies and returns as a guardian angel. On paper, it sounds like classic Spielbergian whimsy. But what’s striking is how the film leans into its emotional core without the usual visual dazzle. Personally, I think this is where Always gets misunderstood. Critics often dismiss it as overly saccharine, but what they miss is Spielberg’s attempt to strip away his signature style and focus on raw, human emotion. It’s a risk that doesn’t entirely pay off, but it’s a risk worth examining.
Why Always Matters More Than You Think
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Always fits into Spielberg’s broader career. Here’s a director who’s spent decades crafting stories about wonder and escapism, yet Always feels like a quiet rebellion against his own formula. It’s a film about love, loss, and second chances—themes Spielberg has explored before, but never with such restraint. In my opinion, this is where the film’s true value lies. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s a window into Spielberg’s soul, a reminder that even the most successful filmmakers are still searching for something deeper.
The Audrey Hepburn Factor
One detail that I find especially interesting is Audrey Hepburn’s role as the spirit guide Hap. This was her final film appearance, and her presence adds a layer of poignancy to the story. Hepburn’s character is both ethereal and grounded, a perfect counterbalance to Dreyfuss’s brash Pete. What many people don’t realize is how much Hepburn’s performance elevates the film. She’s not just a plot device; she’s the heart of Always. If you take a step back and think about it, her involvement feels symbolic—a passing of the torch from old Hollywood to Spielberg’s modern vision.
The Remake Debate: Always vs. *A Guy Named Joe*
Most critics argue that the original A Guy Named Joe is superior, and I won’t disagree. But Spielberg’s version has its own charm, even if it’s a bit clumsy. What this really suggests is that remakes don’t have to outshine the originals to be worthwhile. Always is a product of its time, a late-80s reflection on love and mortality that feels both dated and timeless. From my perspective, its flaws are part of its appeal. It’s a film that wears its heart on its sleeve, for better or worse.
Why We Should Revisit *Always*
Here’s the thing: Always isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for Spielberg’s signature spectacle, you’ll be disappointed. But if you’re willing to meet the film on its own terms, there’s something genuinely moving here. Personally, I think it’s worth watching for the performances alone—Dreyfuss, Holly Hunter, and John Goodman all deliver in ways the script doesn’t always deserve. This raises a deeper question: Do we judge films based on their ambition or their execution? Always falls short in the latter, but its ambition is undeniable.
The Broader Lesson: Spielberg’s Humanity
What Always ultimately reveals is Spielberg’s willingness to fail gracefully. In an industry obsessed with perfection, this film is a reminder that even the greatest artists take risks. It’s not a career-defining work, but it’s a career-revealing one. If you’re a Spielberg completist, it’s essential viewing. If you’re not, it’s still a fascinating detour. Either way, it’s a film that deserves more than its current reputation.
Final Thoughts
As Spielberg himself admitted at SXSW, he doesn’t like looking back too much. But Always is a rare exception—a film he clearly holds dear, even if the world doesn’t. And that, to me, is what makes it worth revisiting. It’s not about whether Always is good or bad; it’s about what it says about Spielberg, about storytelling, and about the risks we take when we create. In a world where every film is judged by its box office or critical acclaim, Always is a quiet rebellion—a reminder that sometimes, the most underrated stories are the ones that dare to be imperfect.
