There isn’t much about Back To The Future that you don’t already know. And what you know is the stuff of cult legend.
The rerelease of one of the most iconic films of a generation
therefore is not going to attract a meagre gathering on its opening
night. Boys in red bodywarmers and high tops high-fiving each other in
the foyer is only to be expected. Get ready for whoops of hysteria
taking to the air when Huey Lewis and the News fill the speakers.
There is something almost magical from the moment the clocks start
ticking in the opening sequence. This is likely to attract a lot of
people who want to reminisce what going to the cinema meant in their
youth, the sort of giddy excitement that is lost on a generation of CG
and 3D. Sure, the restored version of the film has its fair stab at
special effects, and the flying Delorean finale, though timid in its
impact today, would have roused gasps at the time of its release. It is
the timing that makes this picture ultimately timeless. And it’s
personified by Christopher Lloyd, an explosion of mad hair and lolling eyes and flailing limbs that still manages to be loveable.
In terms of digital restoration there’s little here or there; this
would be an outing purely for the sake of experiencing this film in the
big screen. And true (mostly) to Spielberg form it’s a damn good story, even with a little incest in tow.
Although strongly protested against, a remake of the original is inevitable with Justin Beiber suggested
as Marty. In the meantime, fans can get their fix with limited
screenings of the original and a blu-ray release, hot on its heels (or
tyre marks,). The joy of another bash at this is mixed with a strong
wish that in 25 years time our kids won’t be donning their high tops and
red vests in celebration of the BBC.