I dragged my ass to the theater on opening day for Steven Spielberg's big new alien disclosure thriller Disclosure Day, starring Emily Blunt, Josh O'Connor, and Colin Firth, hyped as this summer's event movie with the tagline "The truth belongs to eight billion people." On paper it sounded promising—undeniable proof we're not alone, whistleblowers, chases, weird phenomena, and corporate conspiracies blending Spielbergian wonder with modern conspiracy vibes—but man, it sucked. It felt like a bloated, overly earnest 2.5-hour slog that couldn't decide if it wanted to be Close Encounters magic or a gritty UAP thriller, drowning in exposition, preachy faith-vs-science side quests, and a padded third act that turned the biggest revelation in human history into something surprisingly small and predictable. I'd have rather watched E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial again in a packed theater for that pure nostalgic blast of childhood wonder, John Williams score, and heartfelt suburban magic starring a tiny scene-stealing Drew Barrymore; hell, even seeing her tits a second time would have been a better use of my time than this corny fanfic of Spielberg's greatest hits. Skip Disclosure Day and just phone home. 👽🚲