12. Back to the Future (1985), dir. Robert Zemeckis
I saw this about a month ago with big_daz, nigelmouse and his chum called Andy (I think), and hugely enjoyed rediscovering what a classic it is. It isn't just that it has all the standard elements of a good film (plotting, direction, acting, character, dialogue, setting and that little bit of magic which makes them all work together). It has an energy and freshness which has stood the test of time really well, and packs huge riches of detail and ideas into its two short hours.
I think it has gained something with the passage of time, too. Watching it in 2013 inevitably means approaching the film itself as a form of 'time travel' back to the 1980s, in a way that wouldn't have applied to the original audiences, and this in turn lends extra resonances to the central time-travel story. Within the film, the scenes from the 1950s are quite explicitly presented as 'filmic', what with their representation of a perfect small-town America recognisable from (for instance) It's a Wonderful Life, complete with brightly-coloured diners, high-school dances and larger-than-life characters. Knowing as you watch the film that you are now viewing the 1980s through the same kinds of filters, and that you cannot do anything else because they are no more real and present today than the 1950s were when it was made, somehow makes the 'time-travel' experience of watching the film both more and less immersive at the same time.
On the one hand, it offers a route into the (possible) mind-set of the original 1980s audiences by dangling the idea that the 1950s scenes probably looked much to them as the 1980s scenes now do to us. On the other, the studiedly filmic nature of the 1950s scenes remind us that no film offers a 'true' representation of the time it is portraying - including the one we are watching. In other words, just as we might be slipping into thinking that we are really communing with the spirit of the 1980s by watching this film, its own internal time-travel scenes also remind us that we are not. I wonder how all of those resonances will change and evolve as more time passes? Will there come a time when future audiences are slightly puzzled by what is meant to appear so different about its 1950s scenes and its 1980s scenes anyway?
Lots could be said about all sorts of elements within the story, but I am sure they have already been written about on the internet somewhere, so I will focus on just two particular things which occurred to me on this viewing, but which I had never really thought about before.
One is the portrayal of the black character (naturally there's only one), Goldie Wilson, which I suspect was meant to be positive, but is actually tropish and ill-thought-through. Early on in the film, we learn that in 1985 this character is mayor of Marty's home town (Hill Valley), and currently running for re-election. But when Marty returns to 1955, he finds a young Goldie sweeping floors in Lou's Diner. Here's the key scene (but give it 20 seconds for Goldie to actually appear):
I suspect that what audiences were originally meant to take away from this scene was a warm fuzzy feeling about how socially progressive the 1980s were by comparison with the 1950s. While the '50s characters scoff at the idea of a 'colored mayor', the '80s audience (and indeed the early-21st century audience) can feel smug about how that's, like, totally not an issue any more. Unfortunately, the character's agency is badly undermined by nasty little case of White Man's Burden. Goldie may have (undirected) ambition, declaring that one day he will be somebody, but it takes white guy Marty's accidental comment that in the future he will become mayor to channel those ambitions into a specific goal and really inspire him with a sense of purpose. So the very dynamic of the film itself reveals just how fragile and incomplete the supposed progression from the '50s to the '80s actually was - and it's not like we have got much further today, either.
The other problem with Goldie Wilson is that in 1985, Hill Valley is shit, and in particular considerably worse that it was in the 1950s. Now obviously there are all sorts of extra-diegetic reasons we could come up with to explain this which have nothing to do with Goldie. Maybe the town has been badly affected by state-level economic or political problems beyond the control of its mayor. But what we see on screen is that between 1955 and 1985, two things happen to Marty's home town: Goldie becomes its mayor, and it develops all sorts of serious social and economic problems. The rather inescapable conclusion is that in spite of his declared intention (back in the 1950s) to "clean up this town", Goldie's mayorship has actually been nothing short of a disaster for Hill Valley. I fear nobody on the script-writing team ever quite sat down and thought hard enough to notice that the knock-on consequence of the "yay in the 1980s we have black mayors" scene is actually an extended narrative about how incompetent black elected officials are.
My other line of thought was to wonder more generally what we should make of a story in which the people of the 1980s (as personified by Marty) try to fix their problems by going back in time to rewrite the 1950s. In the film, Marty needs to badger his parents into being more assertive and ambitious, so that he (and they) can enjoy a better life in the 1980s. I suppose every generation wishes the one before had taken a longer view of the consequences of their actions - that's what hindsight is. But this film's particular concerns do seem to me to reveal something of the zeitgeist of 1980s America specifically. It certainly seems plausible that the 1950s dream of prosperous small-town life must have looked pretty deluded to many Americans by the 1980s, after the Vietnam war, the Cold War and a series of recessions, and that many people did rather wish the previous generation had been less beholden to convention, developed a little grit, and conceived of wider horizons and grander aspirations.
Anyway, like many an SF or fantasy classic, I think there are good reasons why this film has become something of an icon over the years. It's fun, yes, but has some surprisingly good thinky mileage in it to boot. Here's looking forward to its thirtieth anniversary in another two years' time, when we really will stand in exactly the same relation to 1985 as the film did to 1955.
Click here if you would like view this entry in light text on a dark background.
I think it has gained something with the passage of time, too. Watching it in 2013 inevitably means approaching the film itself as a form of 'time travel' back to the 1980s, in a way that wouldn't have applied to the original audiences, and this in turn lends extra resonances to the central time-travel story. Within the film, the scenes from the 1950s are quite explicitly presented as 'filmic', what with their representation of a perfect small-town America recognisable from (for instance) It's a Wonderful Life, complete with brightly-coloured diners, high-school dances and larger-than-life characters. Knowing as you watch the film that you are now viewing the 1980s through the same kinds of filters, and that you cannot do anything else because they are no more real and present today than the 1950s were when it was made, somehow makes the 'time-travel' experience of watching the film both more and less immersive at the same time.
On the one hand, it offers a route into the (possible) mind-set of the original 1980s audiences by dangling the idea that the 1950s scenes probably looked much to them as the 1980s scenes now do to us. On the other, the studiedly filmic nature of the 1950s scenes remind us that no film offers a 'true' representation of the time it is portraying - including the one we are watching. In other words, just as we might be slipping into thinking that we are really communing with the spirit of the 1980s by watching this film, its own internal time-travel scenes also remind us that we are not. I wonder how all of those resonances will change and evolve as more time passes? Will there come a time when future audiences are slightly puzzled by what is meant to appear so different about its 1950s scenes and its 1980s scenes anyway?
Lots could be said about all sorts of elements within the story, but I am sure they have already been written about on the internet somewhere, so I will focus on just two particular things which occurred to me on this viewing, but which I had never really thought about before.
One is the portrayal of the black character (naturally there's only one), Goldie Wilson, which I suspect was meant to be positive, but is actually tropish and ill-thought-through. Early on in the film, we learn that in 1985 this character is mayor of Marty's home town (Hill Valley), and currently running for re-election. But when Marty returns to 1955, he finds a young Goldie sweeping floors in Lou's Diner. Here's the key scene (but give it 20 seconds for Goldie to actually appear):
Click to viewI suspect that what audiences were originally meant to take away from this scene was a warm fuzzy feeling about how socially progressive the 1980s were by comparison with the 1950s. While the '50s characters scoff at the idea of a 'colored mayor', the '80s audience (and indeed the early-21st century audience) can feel smug about how that's, like, totally not an issue any more. Unfortunately, the character's agency is badly undermined by nasty little case of White Man's Burden. Goldie may have (undirected) ambition, declaring that one day he will be somebody, but it takes white guy Marty's accidental comment that in the future he will become mayor to channel those ambitions into a specific goal and really inspire him with a sense of purpose. So the very dynamic of the film itself reveals just how fragile and incomplete the supposed progression from the '50s to the '80s actually was - and it's not like we have got much further today, either.
The other problem with Goldie Wilson is that in 1985, Hill Valley is shit, and in particular considerably worse that it was in the 1950s. Now obviously there are all sorts of extra-diegetic reasons we could come up with to explain this which have nothing to do with Goldie. Maybe the town has been badly affected by state-level economic or political problems beyond the control of its mayor. But what we see on screen is that between 1955 and 1985, two things happen to Marty's home town: Goldie becomes its mayor, and it develops all sorts of serious social and economic problems. The rather inescapable conclusion is that in spite of his declared intention (back in the 1950s) to "clean up this town", Goldie's mayorship has actually been nothing short of a disaster for Hill Valley. I fear nobody on the script-writing team ever quite sat down and thought hard enough to notice that the knock-on consequence of the "yay in the 1980s we have black mayors" scene is actually an extended narrative about how incompetent black elected officials are.
My other line of thought was to wonder more generally what we should make of a story in which the people of the 1980s (as personified by Marty) try to fix their problems by going back in time to rewrite the 1950s. In the film, Marty needs to badger his parents into being more assertive and ambitious, so that he (and they) can enjoy a better life in the 1980s. I suppose every generation wishes the one before had taken a longer view of the consequences of their actions - that's what hindsight is. But this film's particular concerns do seem to me to reveal something of the zeitgeist of 1980s America specifically. It certainly seems plausible that the 1950s dream of prosperous small-town life must have looked pretty deluded to many Americans by the 1980s, after the Vietnam war, the Cold War and a series of recessions, and that many people did rather wish the previous generation had been less beholden to convention, developed a little grit, and conceived of wider horizons and grander aspirations.
Anyway, like many an SF or fantasy classic, I think there are good reasons why this film has become something of an icon over the years. It's fun, yes, but has some surprisingly good thinky mileage in it to boot. Here's looking forward to its thirtieth anniversary in another two years' time, when we really will stand in exactly the same relation to 1985 as the film did to 1955.
Click here if you would like view this entry in light text on a dark background.