Based on the 1982 Steven Spielberg movie, this endearingly weird indoor ride (a rare survivor from this park’s opening day) is rightfully in the kiddie area because it’s not intense and the plot cannot withstand scrutiny by a fully developed brain. Upon entering, guests supply their name to an attendant, who encodes the info on a pass you hand over when you board the ride. The indoor queue area is a fabulous reproduction of a thick, cool California forest at night. Vehicles are suspended from rails to approximate the sensation of cruising in a flock of bikes, and they sweep and scoop across the moonrise and then through gardens on E.T.’s home planet (remember, he was a botanist), where a menagerie of goofy-looking aliens and creepy E.T. babies swing on vines. They miraculously speak English, throw a party, and greet us from the sidelines. At the climax, a grateful E.T. is supposed to call out your name as you fly home—hence those boarding passes—but E.T. either runs out of time to name everyone or he spouts gibberish, so don’t get your hopes up unless your name is Pfmkmpftur. Strategy: Seats on the left have fewer obstructed views.