Once upon a time, Turner Classic Movies showed BACK TO THE FUTURE. This put the joke on me—it made me old. When I watch Turner Classic Movies, I'm expecting black and white, or at least the surrealism of Technicolor. I expect Cary Grant, a man both my grandmother and I can fancy, not Michael J. Fox, who, as Michael P. Keaton, was my would-be boyfriend.
The same feeling occurred when I was referred to a dentist who turned out to be MY AGE. Dentists are not supposed to be my age—they are supposed to be kindly old men who happen to work out their sadism at work. The last thing you want in your mouth is some guy you could have gone to high school with. (It's worse if he's hot and you know he'll never want you because you don't floss.)
While I refuse to accept BACK TO THE FUTURE is classic in the "old" sense, it is a classic in the other sense. The dictionary tells us that classic means "of the first or highest quality, class, or rank." BACK TO THE FUTURE is a marvel.
I recently decided that my fourteen-year-old needed to see it. He's at the age when he resists anything I like, but I can't have him going around pretending to be learned* when he hasn't seen BACK TO THE FUTURE. Sure enough, he was engrossed, though somewhat discomfited when confronted with the sight of a boy pursued by his mother.**
One of the things that makes it timeless for me is that it asks us to think about time. If we're feeling Oedipal, we can consider what it would mean to work out our complexes with a young, attractive version of a parent. If we've just come 
People really need to come up with a different theme |
|
from physics class, we might ponder how Marty's travels (and Einstein's for that matter) might disrupt the space-time continuum or whether moving through time actually puts you in another reality or dimension.
I actually prefer to think about this movie as capturing a moment in history. It's 1985 in America. The film draws attentions to how our culture changes. Doc (in 1955) asks Marty at one point if there's been a gravitational shift in 1985—why else would Marty keep insisting that events, situations, and feeling were "heavy"? Marty's mother thinks his name is Calvin Kline. In 1955, who else's name would you have on your underwear but your own? Many citizens believe Marty is a sailor because his jacket resembles a life jacket.
Why did/do we wear things that keep our torsos, but not our arms, warm? Why do we wear advertisements under our clothes? If language reflects thought***, what did "heavy" say about how we were thinking?
Watching the movie over twenty years after its premiere makes me consider our cultural signifiers. Going back (or forward) in time by watching a movie allows us to see our own culture anew. If we were observers, what would we think of advertisements in our classrooms? Of "bling" and "d'oh"? Of women who are getting their toes removed so they can fit into expensive shoes? (Actually, I think we probably have the appropriate feelings about that already.)
The movie also allows us to think about inheritance—not the money, but the cultural inheritance. Are we determined by our parents' choices? If you are 
Whoever thought George could be sexy? |
|
unlucky enough to go to the same school your parents did, will teachers never see you without thinking of them? Was uncle Joey always destined for jail, no matter what changed? Is our entire existence hinging forever on a kiss or a punch in the face?
I'm not always thinking so philosophically when I watch this movie. I watch it, as you do, for the skateboarding, for the music, and for the big moment. When George McFly does the right thing, we swell along with the music. The secondary save is an anticlimax, but it demonstrates that George has started a pattern of standing up for himself—that the first time wasn't just a fluke.
This shift in George highlights the shift in Marty as he discovers his parents are people. His mother was forward with boys. His father was creative. At the beginning of the movie, Marty's coolness seems to be all his own. His trip back in time allows him (and the audience) to see that he comes by it honestly. It also signals a moment of growing up, when you can set a good example for your parents instead of always laying the responsibility on them.
My son asked after the viewing if there had indeed been a sequel. I wanted to say no, because I would like to harness the power to change history, to make the original film pure in solitude. But until I get my DeLorean, I can't change the past.
* Scholars and Homer Simpson differ on the correct pronunciation of this word.
** I consider it my job to make him uncomfortable, though. Otherwise, how can I make sure he moves out someday?
*** It does. And vice versa.
 email this column to a friend
|
| Comedies with Dr. Karma |
Every other Wednesday
Dr. Karma discusses all things comic, from the classics to what may become classics. Laugh with, but not at, her, please.
|
| Karma Waltonen |
Dr. Karma is a silly, nerdy know-it-all, but in a good way. She brings all her overeducation to discuss that which truly matters: comedy. As some famous guy once said: “And if I laugh at any mortal thing, ‘tis that I may not weep.” Or something like that.
|
| Contact |
If you have a comment, question, or suggestion, you can send a message to Karma Waltonen by clicking here.
|
|
