The secret Steven Spielberg movie of the 80s. Oh sure, the credits say that Tobe Hooper directed, but anyone with a pair of working eyes and ears can sense writer/producer Spielberg’s touch in this haunted house story’s suburban warmth, breezy style and heavy use of Jerry Goldsmith’s orchestral crescendos. The ghosts here are scary, but they inspire a lot more innocent wonder. The characters behold them like Richard Dreyfuss sees the UFO rise in Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Indiana Jones marvels at a coveted artifact. It’s for that reason that this is one of the better horror movies for young kids. Meanwhile, Tobe Hooper has a few defenders, but general consensus among cast and crew is that he had to answer to an ever-present Spielberg for every move he made. A few actors with smaller roles, such as Zelda Rubenstein (memorable as the film’s baby-voiced, pint-sized elderly woman occult expert, this film’s equivalent to Quint from Jaws), insist that Spielberg directed while Hooper stepped aside like a cuckold. Me, I don’t know what to think, but the prospect that Spielberg directed much of the movie is very believable. He was a few months away from shooting ET: The Extra-Terrestrial and contractually forbidden from directing another film during that time. Poltergeist was Spielberg’s idea and partly his script. One imagines Spielberg, young and respected and newly powerful in the movie business, easily being the big dog on a set and stepping on another director’s head to get his own vision of his own story onscreen. He might justify by it by reasoning that this film will lead to many future opportunities for that director. Okay. Fine with me. It’s an entertaining flick. I’ll take it.