Back to the Future Film Review: Eighties Classic Maintains Its Original Charm

While time travel isn’t the novel concept it used to be, Back to the Future still finds a way to make it exciting. It has to this day the greatest mode of travel, something that can add to the excitement of the moment and offers a unique spin to a common genre. It’s also an absolute testament to its time; a movie so entirely eighties it would be impossible to imagine it in any different era.

That’s one of the most interesting parts of this movie though, and one that this film does better than others. It compares what it means to be cool, and how that definition has changed over the course of time. Marty, who was comfortable and popular during his time, is an absolute fish out of water during this day and age. He’s constantly made fun of for his attire, his temperament is out of the ordinary, and he’s altogether uncomfortable navigating the people around him. Sure, he wins over the people with his antics, but to him these bullies wouldn’t last the same way if they were present in the eighties. When going back in the past, there’s a certain air of confidence one would get simply by knowing the future, and knowing already how the world has dealt with previous societal problems. The way Marty balances this confidence with his discomfort allows him the chance to be a competent main character, and at the same time an underdog the audience is willing to root for. 

In a similar way to today’s fascination with the eighties, the eighties were going through a nostalgiasance of their own with the nineteen fifties. Times were ‘simpler’, parents went on about the way they used to do things, and everything was better it seemed like. It’s funny to see how much of society stays the same. There’s a particular joke where Marty tells Doc the current president in 1985. “Ronald Regan!? The Actor?” He teases him. All too similar a response if I went back to 1992 and told someone Donald Trump was going to be president. Moments like these show me why a film like this is so relevant to today, and yet so completely of its time. 

Now, while this film was directed by Robert Zemekis it has Spielberg’s fingers all over it. The eighties were owned by Spielberg and it shows. The music (By Alan Silvestri, a brilliant composer in his own right) is absolutely inspired by the work of John Williams, and the shot selection contains all the unambitious comfort of the film’s producer. It’s a simple story with charismatic characters, and while the writing is executed well, it doesn’t rock the boat or have much to say about the world at large. It’s purely an entertainment mechanism, and while it succeeds tremendously at that, it also puts a ceiling on its overall quality. 

Zemekis has a history of well made projects with not much to say, as other good films of his like Forrest Gump or Contact lack the political bite to push them onto the next level. What he does do well though is he crafts worlds and characters that feel ‘magical’, and he captures an optimistic whimsy that is undoubtedly a testament to its era. His comedy work is light and lovable, blending in well with the writing he does with his then partner Bob Gale. I wouldn’t say his cinematography has had any impact on me, nor did he direct this movie in a way that would have me notice it. The editing was just about as tight as it could be, for a simple story like this it’s important to know when to trim the fat and they were more than up to the challenge. Zemekis is known to be a bit of a VFX junkie and I can certainly say his work there is some of the best stuff in the film. He never went out of his way to try something that couldn’t be done, so what they were able to do they executed with a flare that puts it above the average film. The flaming tire tracks once the Delorean goes through time worked great, not to mention the Delorean itself, which is easily one of the coolest and most recognizable props in the history of cinema. 

There’s a clear barrier that’s difficult to get over though, and it has to be the story. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not terrible, it’s just not anything that’s gonna win any awards. Like the rest of the film, it’s simple, but unlike the rest of the film, it’s not necessarily iconic. 

The film is mostly an exploration into Marty's family dynamic, and how certain shameful concessions lead into drastic results that may impact those around you. The story opens with a clear and present apathy among the McFly family, spearheaded by the father (Crispin Glover). Glover gives what I think may be the most underrated performance in the movie, one that tows the line so brilliantly between pathetic and likable that it comes across as unsustainably affable. It’s such a small part in the film, but in the beginning when he sees something he likes on the TV there’s something about the way he turns around and laughs that I think about more than anything else in the film. It’s so slimy and pathetic, but undeniably cute. He’s like a pet lizard you keep around and look at. He’s just a silly guy.

There’s a lot of elements in Back to the Future that absolutely shouldn’t work, but they do simply because of a confidence in their execution and a charisma that allows the audience to rest easy. Why would Marty and Doc ever be friends?  Because they just are. And it works. It works because they work so well off each other. 

Marty (Played by Michael J. Fox) is a classic eighties cool kid with the spunky vest and the cool hair and the laid back easy going charm. He’s popular, but he’s never out of pocket. He makes it easy to root for him because he pulls off an effortless and genuine charm. Fox takes what I think could be a dull archetype and turns him into something that may be the most difficult thing in storytelling; an Iconic character. I wouldn’t say anything about him is understated, and he’s certainly not the most complex character I’ve seen. What he does do though is work off the extravagance in the plot in a way that perfectly compliments the rest of the film. He’s one of the best examples of the straight man in modern cinema. Also, his personality stands the test of time. A character like him dropped in today’s age would still make a popular high school student.

It’s a performance that keeps the film from going stale, as the story surrounds his quest in finding the heart of his crush (Mother Lea Thompson). Thompson does a well enough job in the role she’s given, although the role she’s given is virtually one running gag that takes place throughout the movie. She’s in love with her son, hahaha. I’ll admit it was funny in the first scene. It becomes clear though, that as it’s determined her love is the focal point of the story, her character growth becomes frozen in time. She’s not allowed to develop because that would mark the end of the film, and on top of that, the growth she has isn’t even really in her control. Her character becomes simmered down to a plot device, and while Thopmson does well with what she has (She really works well on screen) it’s hard to consider her notable simply by the nature of the role.

There’s a few moments like this in the plot where the writers ask the audience to brush it over. Not even talking about the time traveling inconsistencies, which are many. I’m not Neil DeGrasse Tyson though, I’m not here to talk about useless science flaws. What I’m talking about are plot devices central to character motivation that are casually set aside for the sake of resolving the plot. 

A common type of criticism people tend to have when talking about movies that I disagree with is when they talk about a minor plot inconsistency as if it’s a major detriment to the film. The cinemasins kind of thinking, if you will (which by the way, I don’t understand the hate of. They’re clearly tongue in cheek. They’re not telling you to think that way). The Dark Knight Rises has a great example of this mistake. When Bruce Wayne finally crawls out of that pit at the end of the second act, he reaches the apex of his growth, and he learns to use his emotions instead of suppressing them for the greater good. Great stuff. During the time of that film people were unreasonably upset that Batman was able to travel across the world with no money back to Gotham and retake the city. But who cares really? That observation has nothing to do with character motivation, and it has nothing to do with the overall thesis. It’s something minor that’s turned to something major. What I believe are inconsolable plot issues come directly from an interference with the character’s personal journey. 

So, when Lea Thompson (the mother) kisses Marty McFly and just says “Oh I don’t like that” It feels like a throw away answer to the most difficult problem the film needed to solve. Now, I know it’s not the kind of film to harp on every detail like that.  It’s not a film, it’s just a movie. I understand that, and I appreciate it. I just can’t place it on a pedestal when it’s only asking to be hanged on the wall. I can appreciate it for what it is and I can admire it’s execution but