Robocop (1987)

He Has Risen!

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Despite its schlocky, B-movie title and the premise of a cyborg cop in a semi-dystopian Detroit, the Paul Verhoeven directed Robocop would prove to be one of the smartest films from the 1980s, an era when blockbuster movies were made for adults and their appeal would trickle down to younger audiences. Everything about the cyborg police officer oozes pure 1980’s cool from the slick metal look to that unforgettable voice (“your move creep!”). It feels like an actual robot and not simply a man wearing a suit, largely in part thanks to Peter Weller’s performance in which he nails the robotic body movements (I can suspend my disbelief that it never occurs to the bad guys just to shoot Robocop in the flesh of his uncovered lower face).

Robocop himself is the creation of Omni Consumer Products (OCP), a company which in its own words deals in “markets traditionally regarded as non-profit” such as hospitals, prisons and space exploration (funny I am writing this review as Jeff Bezos and the Richard Branson have just recently flown into space); a company that is essentially part of the military-industrial complex (“you got access to military weaponry? We practically are the military”). OCP runs the Detroit police force which raises the question, does there exist a public police force that is actually privatized (to which I’m unable to find a clear answer)? The world inside OCP is a combination of sexy and sinister yuppiedom full of Godfather-esque inner dealings and in which stock boards are placed above urinals. I like how during the presentation for the company’s other police robot ED-209, one of the board members is brutally gunned down by the machine and the best anyone can say is “does somebody want to call a paramedic?” and the board just continue to talk business and finance (also notice how Bob Morton (Miguel Ferrer) stubbornly pays no attention during the ED-209 presentation). It ultimately comes as no surprise when it turns out OCP has links to Detroit’s most prominent gang lead by Clarence Boddicker, a figure of pure menace with his sinister look and a man who can go down as one of cinema’s great villains (notice how he’s always doing something with his mouth). Yet I wouldn’t say OCP is portrayed as an overtly evil company in Robocop, the companies’ head, the sympathetic old man (Dan O’Herlihy) appears to be oblivious the shadier dealings within his company rather than actively taking part in them (by contrast in Robocop 2 OCP is portrayed as a far more sinister company, right down to having Nazi-esque flags on displays). Robocop can join the club of sci-fi movies that warned us about the dangers of corporate power, but did we listen?

Jay-sus love!

So how does OCP come to literally own the body of Robocop’s previous alter alias, Detroit police officer Alex Murphy? We are only given a single line of dialogue in which company member Donald Johnson (Felton Perry) states “Well he signed the release forms when he joined the force. He’s legally dead. We can do pretty much what we want to”. It’s also not clear if Murphy has literally been brought back from the dead (although with Robocop being a clear Christ metaphor that argument could be made). Clarence Boddicker shot Murphy in the forehead and he clearly appeared deceased lying in a pool of his own blood, yet when Murphy is being rushed to the operating room we do see what appears to be flashbacks in his head to his family life suggesting he was still alive. Regardless if weather OCP has literally possesses the ability to reincarnate a human, it is a disturbing prospect how a company can literally own your body and in effect, a person (regardless if they’re technically still classified as a human upon becoming a cyborg) can become a company product. As the film progresses there are subtle signs of Murphy regaining his humanity and like fellow similarly themed 80’s sci-fi masterpiece Blade Runner, the question is asked, what is the dividing line between man and machine? Unlike say 2001: A Space Odyssey which makes the viewer fear technology with HAL 9000, Robocop has a message of man learning to live side by side with technology. The scene in which Murphy removes his visor and looks upon his face for the first time since becoming Robocop is heart-wrenching and easily the most moving scene in the film, with the makeup effects themselves being something of awe.

Robocop’s competitor at OCP, ED-209 is one cool looking beast but is a product that clearly hasn’t been well thought through since it’s incapable of accessing areas such as a simple staircase. It’s the little touches though which give it a personality from its lion growl before attacking from its pig squeal when it falls over to its little foot twitch. It goes without saying stop motion effects will never cease being cool to look at (likewise, Robocop I also great a showcase for the lost art that is the matte painting). Contrarily, Murphy’s partner Anne Lewis (Nancy Allen), while instrumental in helping Murphy rediscover his humanity, I do find myself slightly resenting her character as she does bear some responsibility for Murphy’s death and for a ridiculous reason. She just had to look down at that gang members’ package and as a result, be knocked out and disarmed. Had she not been distracted Murphy might still be a regular cop. That said, Murphy’s twirling of his gun to emulate the fictional futuristic cop T.J. Lazer in order to impress his son is a massive firearms violation (tut, tut), even if “role models can be very important to a boy”.

One of the memorable aspects of Robocop and something which really makes the film unique are the television segments, of which the news bulletins are in themselves an effective manner to deliver exposition while the commercials are incredibly entertaining and quotable (“That’s it buster! No more military aid!”). Perhaps most memorable of all is the fictional sitcom It’s Not My Problem! and that infectiously quotable line “I’d buy that for a dollar!” – the punch line to a joke we never hear yet the characters in the movie watching this low brow sitcom find hilarious. Much of the acting in Robocop is deliberately very campy. I can remember on one occasion channel surfing and I stumbled onto Robocop, my mother could not stop laughing at just how campy the acting was.

No specific date is given for when Robocop is set, whereas like Blade Runner, there exists technology that is still science-fiction in the real world and the President of the United States makes speeches from outer space (likewise male and female police officers sharing the same changing room appears to be the norm), yet within this universe, televisions are still bulky boxes with Cathode-ray tubes. Perhaps the film’s most memorable tech anomaly is the appearance of what you could possibly call a DVD, in which Boddicker uses a CD to carry visual information which was not possible in 1987. I also find the interior of Murphy’s house (owned by a company called Zem Industries) looks so heartless and sterile. This world isn’t quite Soylent Green but it’s still not desirable.

Even for a film that is as violent and drenched in blood as Robocop, the one moment which still manages to come out of left field is the death of the Boddicker’s henchman Emil Antonowsky (Paul McCrane). The death of Emil is equally disturbing yet darkly comic as he turns into a creature resembling the toxic avenger after driving into a toxic waste container. What makes it so funny is the horror-like organ music that plays over the graphic, horrifying sight of a man who rivals Joseph Merrick followed by his body splattering all over a car windshield after Boddicker accidentally drives into him. Conversely, the film’s action climax does end on a more beautiful moment of violence as Boddicker penetrates Robocop with a spear, a shot that has a very mythic quality to it.

Robocop as a series is also one of the great tragedies of contemporary cinema in that the first film set up so much sequel potential which failed to be utilized upon (I do like Robocop 2 but it is a downgrade from the first film) – regardless, we will always have the original. The ending of Robocop is just about the perfect explosion of catharsis to an already sublimely paced film as our titular hero gets revenge on the corporate bad guy Dick Jones (Ronny Cox). I do love that brief cutaway shot in which Donald Johnson looks on with glee at Robocop guns down Jones while that charmingly dodgy falling shot in which Jones has unusually long arms is so wonderfully cliché. This is followed by one of the best single lines in film history as the old man praises Robocop for his shooting and asks him for his name. A Robocop who has regained his humanity gives a simple utterance of “Murphy” as Basil Poledouris’ superb theme plays over the end credits and the audience cheers on.

Blade Runner (1982)

I’ve Seen The Future And It Will Be

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

I often hear similar stories of people’s first experiences watching Blade Runner, finding the film dull but coming to appreciate it years later – my story has the same trajectory. I first tried to watch Blade Runner (of what I believe was The Final Cut) on TV in Christmas 2009, only to stop watching after half an hour due to boredom. Over the years, however, I would be compelled to return to Blade Runner several times and get more out of it with each viewing. The tech-noir world of Blade Runner is one to get lost in with its use of neon and many billboards of geishas, albeit a more depressing, dystopian one than say that of Star Wars; one in which the city of Los Angeles appears to be stuck in a state of perpetual darkness and it very frequently rains. Now when watching Blade Runner, I’m watching a movie set in the past date of November, 2019. Once again, like Star Wars, the technology present is highly contradictory, this is a world in which flying cars exist and photographs have unimaginably high pixel counts, yet they still use CRT televisions and mobile phones don’t appear to exist. It contradictions like these which we can observe in the real world just adds to the unique and fantasy aspect of the Blade Runner universe. 

The visual style of Blade Runner has since become a massive cliché – often imitated but never equaled. It feels like every shot or background prop has a story to tell such as those many photographs in Rick Deckard’s apartment. The man-cave interior of Deckard’s apartment is perfectly suited to his loner personality, a classic world-weary noir protagonist. The film’s blurring of the lines between what is human and what is machine results in me always having to remind myself that these replicants of whose plight I’ve drawn emotional investment towards, are not humans at the end of the day. Why should I feel sorry for the vulnerable replicant Rachael with her smudged eye makeup created from her tears? Blade Runner provokes many a thought of what it means to be human. I suspect the appearance of Rachael must have come about from a desire to create an ideal woman since nobody else in Blade Runner casually dresses like a 1940’s femme fatale (I haven’t heard of anyone else note Rachael has a strong resemblance to Rosalind Russell in My Sister Eileen from 1942). Likewise, I don’t want to know if Deckard is a replicant or not, I prefer the ambiguity and the mystery along with the many unanswered questions of this universe. 

The love scene between Deckard and Rachael is one of the greatest in cinema history. The sexual tension builds up as a shirtless Deckard wipes away the blood of his face and Rachael lets her hair loose. Subsequently, the manner in which Deckard prevents Rachael from leaving the apartment as he shuts the door with his fist and then proceeds to kiss her along with the saxophone solo from the love them being as close to cheesy as it can get without it being so, brings the swoon factor up to 11. My shallow desires just wish the extended, deleted version of the scene was left in any of the version of the film (in the 80’s Sean Young got to have a sex scene with both Harrison Ford and Kevin Costner).

The effects of globalization as seen in Blade Runner present L.A. (or at the very least one portion of the city) having Japanese inhabitants as the majority population. If the filmmakers were intending to make accurate predictions of the future, the world of Blade Runner would be more likely dominated by Chinese influence. What Blade Runner does reflect accurately about our modern world is the increasingly oppressive corporate culture and the surveillance of everyday life. There are no evident signs of government in Blade Runner yet corporations rule the roast as the Mayan pyramid-shaped headquarters of the Tyrell Corporation dominates the skyline. Like Cyberdyne Systems in The Terminator and Omni Consumer Products in Robocop, 1980’s pulp sci-fi tried to warn us of the dangers of unbridled corporate power. Such power is seen turning in on itself as the film’s corporate overlord, the slimy, dubious Eldon Tyrell with his magnificent glasses succumbs to a gruesome death in the only moment of the film in which I want to avert my eyes from the screen in a classic case of the Frankenstein monster turning on its creator. It’s little often pointed out that Tyrell’s death is very similar to the murder of Mr. Gaines in The Manchurian Candidate (1962). In both films, the murders take place at night in the victim’s bedroom as they are lying in bed reading. Both characters are wearing a robe while having a chessboard, statues of animals and candles next to their beds.

Lucas and Spielberg gave special editions a bad name, but Ridley Scott’s Final Cut of Blade Runner actually shows they have a place (providing the option of viewing the original still exists). There are no pointless CGI additions and it fixes the niggling technical flaws of the original such as the shot of Roy Batty’s dove flying towards the sky. While I appreciate the Final Cut, there is a charm to those imperfections of the original, showing that even the masters can make mistakes. I will also defend the voice-over narration present in the theatrical version. It’s not up to the poetic quality of Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity and is hokey but I find it endearingly so and does make the plot easier to follow and gives the film a bit more character (plus we get to hear Harrison Ford drop the “N” word).

Blade Runner is by no means a nihilistic film, rather it is one that shows beauty in despair (the original ending shows that green pastures apparently still exist in this world of ecological ruin). This display of goodness, truth and beauty culminates in Roy Batty’s final 42 word Tears In The Rain monologue, as the obviously Christ-like figure conjures magnificent images of Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion and C-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate to the magnificent score by Vangelis. The Blade Runner soundtrack is one of the few film scores in which I can listen to the entire thing (even John Williams Ladd Company jingle is awe-inspiring). It is the perfect accompaniment to walking down any urban landscapes at night (I can recall multiple mornings when I would listen to Tears In The Rain as the sun would rise back when I worked night shifts) as oneself reflects over its romantic nature and harkens for nostalgia, often and like the replicants in the movie, for memories we don’t even have. 

Woman In the Moon [Frau im Mond] (1929)

Destination Moon

I first heard of Woman in the Moon (Frau im Mond) as a child reading about it in the Newsround Book of Space. In a section of the book about science fiction movies, the film was mentioned accompanied by a photograph of the film. This picture always intrigued and stuck with me – three people and their rocket on the moon; very retro-futuristic looking. I finally saw it many years later and was not disappointed.

Woman In the Moon really does deserve the title of a unique film, the movies feels like 50’s science fiction movie, yet was released in 1929. The design of the rocket has that retro-futuristic, egg-shaped 1950’s look while the painted moon backdrops look as if they could be in a 50’s space fantasy film. Likewise actress Gerda Maurus has a very futuristic, metallic looking hairstyle. Science Fiction wouldn’t become a staple genre in cinema for another 21 years and Fritz Lang himself was to create a sci-fi movie in the 1950’s, which unfortunately never came to be. The movie also mixes together other time periods. Portions of the movie feel reminiscent of a Jules Verne story with that 19th century sci-fi aesthetic such as the apartment of Professor Mannfeldt with its vintage 19th century furniture, chairs and telescope.

Woman In the moon combines genres with a mix of espionage, melodrama, comic book sci-fi and even a helping of comedy thrown into the mix. Other moments feel like a documentary with scenes of scientists and diagrams explaining things; I love that stuff. Woman in the Moon was the first time ever (film or otherwise) in which space travel was depicted through the use of a multistage liquid fuel rocket; 40 years before man first landed on the moon. Considering this it’s a shock that this movie isn’t more widely known, especially in compassion to Lang’s previous sci-fi epic Metropolis. Even later Nazi rocket science (and eventual American rocket scientist) Wernher Von Braun acted as an advisor for the film.

The film has its Cartoony moments such as the ever cliché image of close-minded bearded scientists laughing and the insane or seemingly insane person is the one who is right but the message is clear, as Professor Mannfeldt angrily puts it “The progress of the world will not fail due to learned ignoramuses lacking in fantasy whose brains work in inverse proportion to their calcification”. The movie’s villain, on the other hand, is obviously modeled after everyone’s least favourite evil dictator Adolf Hitler; he doesn’t have a mustache but has the same parted hairstyle. Lang hated the Nazis before it was cool or before they even came to power.

The only major downside of Woman In the Moon is the run time at 2 hours and 50 minutes which I felt could have been cut down. At the 26 minutes in until 50 minute mark was a section of the film which really tried my patience with its painfully slow setting up in real time but it’s largely smooth sailing after that.

The rocket launch is something to behold with the impressive miniatures and the very gradual build up. The rocket interior is in tune with a space fantasy even with its design taking the absence of gravity in space and G-force taken into account. The actors do an effective job of conveying G-force and not coming off as laughable. When on the moon the astronauts do not wear space suits, are able to breathe on the moon and did I mention there is also gold on the moon. I assume the filmmakers intentionally created a film which combined scientific accuracy and fantasy to create a film which has a great sense of adventure. The child stowaway on the rocket represents the schoolboy adventurer in us. The moon as seen here is a fantasy land full of mountains and caverns. Plus I love and I do mean LOVE the film’s ending. Such an uplifting moment after we’re led to believe the opposite but doesn’t come off as contrived.

There are some subtitle issues on the Masters of Cinema Blu-ray release with white English text overlaying white German text.

“For the human mind, there is no never – only a not yet.”

Soylent Green (1973)

Spoiler Green

Of the major movie stars of the 20th century, one who has certainly secured his immortality with a succession of highly iconic films is Charlton Heston. Soylent Green was the last of these and the final film of what I like to call the Charlton Heston dystopian sci-fi trilogy along with Planet of the Apes and The Omega Man. Now that we have arrived in the future itself by meeting the timeline of Back to the Future Part II and with the dates of Blade Runner and Soylent Green being not far away let us bask in the dystopian wasteland Earth has become. Ok, maybe not quite.

Soylent Green was Edward G Robinson’s final film from a career spanning over 40 years, and the man is still as complete a pro as he ever was. Charlton Heston may be the main star but Robinson steals the show holding some of the best scenes in the film. Take the scene in which Robinson becomes emotional and cries at seeing beef for the first time in years; it takes a great actor to avoid such a scene becoming comical. Likewise, the interaction between Robinson and Heston is simply a pleasure to watch and his last moments on screen where some of his most affecting of his long career. This is also a role in which Robinson’s real-life personality comes through as a man of high culture and a lover of art. The apartment he shares with Heston is full of books, paint brushes, classical music is often played not to mention his character is Jewish. I do love this little sanctuary they have in a world in which crowds people are sleeping on the stairs outside their apartment. I also get the impression there is something more between them than just friendship? During the movie, they claim their love for each other in an un-ironic nature and speak intimately with each other about their personal feelings. Or is there simply just share a platonic love for each other as friends? Who knows?

There are only two uses of matte painting cityscapes throughout Soylent Green. The film shows how you can really create a believable world through the use of intimate on set shooting. I’m sure a remake of Soylent Green would feature a vast CGI city which would have none of the characters which is presented here. This is not a movie which is made for kids. Towards the end of the film, there are surprisingly horrifying scenes and of course there is the ending; an ending which has been spoiled by pop culture. The ending would have affected me more if I had not known it but are spoilers just a part of life?

The Omega Man (1971)

Apocalypse Now?

I began The Omega Man with some initial trepidation from the not so great editing (including a pointless fade away on zooming out shot) the use of sped-up footage and obvious line dubbing; thankfully after that, it gets better. It must appreciated the filmmakers clearing the streets of Los Angles with spanning, wide shots of the city in which it is deserted; no easy task. To accomplish this the filmmakers had to film during Sunday morning and due to filming at this golden hour, the deserted streets and the golden light reflecting off the buildings has a real beauty to it. I don’t know of the film’s budget but it does come off feeling like a low budget production but does so in a charming way. The campy 70’s sounding music score feels like it’s on the verge of killing the mood and being too corny but just about manages to avoid doing so.

Charlton Heston’s Nevillie feels like the predecessor to modern action movie heroes with his use of one-liners. The scene in which he pretends to negotiate with a dead salesman at a car dealership feels very Arnold Schwarzenegger. On the other hand I do find there is some Initial unintentional humour coming from seeing Heston dressed as an aristocrat and talking to a chess-playing bust of Julius Caesar but once that settles these do showcase some poignant scenes of the last man alive trying to keep himself occupied; also I do love this little world he has created for himself in his apartment. Likewise seeing the later Republican Heston watching and the enjoying the film Woodstock and even reciting lines is intriguingly odd. The Omega Man also features one of the earliest on-screen interracial kisses between black and white. I don’t know if it was intentional that a film about repopulating the Earth has an interracial romance but thankfully doesn’t have to call attention to itself.

The Omega is a perfect example of Charlton Heston’s immense screen presence and his ability to carry a movie as he spends much of the runtime alone. When I think “screen presence” several actors will pop into my head, Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas, Clark Gable and of course Charlton Heston.

Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)

The Farce Awakens

Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace is a movie I’m apprehensive to review; perhaps more than any other film ever. I only review movies if I feel I have something to interesting and unique to say. What unique viewpoint to do I have to give to the Star Wars prequels? –  possibly the three most heavily critiqued films ever. I decided to watch all three prequels again (and hopefully for the last time) in order to get a fresh perspective on them. I believe I may have some unique points of view to offer; plus I am among the populace who is addicted to discussing every aspect of George Lucas’ pop culture behemoth.

Don’t be too surprised when I tell you I hate the prequels – big shocker, right? However, The Phantom Menace is the prequel I dislike the least. The major aspect I find The Phantom Menace does have going for it over the other two prequels are the aesthetics. It comes the closest to resembling the original trilogy, if still incredibly far off. The Phantom Menace was shot on film and does feature on location filming and even some practical effects here and there, so the whole thing doesn’t come off looking like a video game as Episodes II and III did. There is a lot of eye candy to behold, such as the locations such as the Palace of Caserta in Italy (why do you want to film everything on a green screen when beautiful places like this exist in the world?), while the costume design – not something I would normally comment on – is very pleasing to the eyes. The only two scenes in The Phantom Menace which has a little bit of that excitement that I get watching the original trilogy are the pod race and final lightsaber duel between Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Darth Maul; an impressive display of acrobatics and is it’s not choreographed within an inch of its life like the duels in Episodes II and III. But even these few aspects of the film I do enjoy are ultimately superficial as there is no internal conflict nor am I emotionally invested.

What surprised me watching The Phantom Menace for the first time in a decade was just how incredibly frustrated I got. I’ve seen and read more reviews of this film over the years, analysing it to death and mocking every aspect of it. Watching the film again I expected to have reactions of “yeah it sucks, what else is new”, but sitting down and watching the entire thing my brain became so numb from the never-ending monotone exposition. I’m not even that keen on the John Williams score; it’s not bad by any means – far from it – but it feels too dark and moody for a Star Wars movie. As fine a piece of music as Duel of the Fates is, those booming choirs feel out of place for Star Wars. In regards to the most hated fictional character of all time, I don’t think Jar Jar is the absolute worst thing ever, I can at least tolerate him (if there’s any character in the prequel trilogy that bothers me for how ridiculous they are: its General Grievous). Plus at least he’s responsible for the only line from this film I like; “The ability to talk does not you intelligent”.

All three prequels lack the space western elements of the original trilogy, and I recall a comment that George Lucas intended The Phantom Menace to play out like a costume drama. Perhaps it’s own such a direction could have worked if you know, the execution wasn’t total pants. I can see what Lucas was perhaps going for in the story in trying to portray the fall of a democracy; the idea of radicals using political unrest as a means of coming to power – such as the Nazis using the turmoil caused by the great depression to amass power. Perhaps the empire isn’t such a bad thing, it appears under their command the universe became a more interesting place.

As someone who is interested in the relationship people have with popular culture, I find the most interesting aspect of The Phantom Menace is nothing in the film itself but rather its place in history. Think about it, the most anticipated movie of all time and it was a colossal letdown, and this occurring during the early days of the internet. What would the world of geekdom be like if The Phantom Menace actually lived up to expectations? Would an entire generation be less cynical?  Would internet culture be the same as it is today, possibly for the better?

Back to the Future (1985)

Spaceman From Pluto

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

An aura of ‘cool’ permeates everything about Back to the Future. I could imagine seeing this film when it came out in 1985 (of course I wasn’t alive) and watching Marty McFly riding through Hill Valley on his skateboard while holding onto the back of a truck to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis and the News and thinking to myself, “omg, this is just the coolest film ever”. To me Marty McFly is the personification of cool, he rides skateboards, has a hot girlfriend, plays guitar. Yet his life is far from perfect; his dad is a dweb, his mum is an alcoholic and his uncle is in prison. This brings him down to a relatable level, plus he hangs out with a crazy old scientist. Why? I don’t want to know. I like the mystery of not knowing how this unconventional friendship came to be. The technical jargon between Marty and Doc is a never-ending pleasure to listen and even lines which shouldn’t be memorable are somehow highly quotable (“Wait a minute Doc, are you telling me that it’s 8:25…dam I’m late for school!”). Likewise taking the coolest looking, commercially available car and making that the time machine is yet another stroke of genius. Notice the scene in which we see the DeLorean for the first time; it’s impossible for Doc Brown to get inside the DeLorean while it is inside the truck so he would have had to get into the car and drive it into the truck and just wait there until Marty would show up and then drive it out and exit the car. I guess Doc thought he had made a time machine that looked so badass he really had to give it an impressive introduction to Marty. The whole movie has the best uses of product placements I’ve seen in a film; never before have I been happier to see advertisements for Pepsi and Texaco. The pacing of Back to the Future is perfect, the film never lets up; the odds keep stacking up against Marty and the suspense towards the end of the film is crazy.

Even though most of the film takes place in the 1950’s, Back To The Future is the film which defines the 1980’s. The ending in which Marty finds his family has been changed for the better and he gets the 4×4 vehicle he wanted; it’s a wish fulfilment fantasy and very much a capitalist, 80’s ideal. It’s an uplifting ending, providing you ignore the fact that Marty now has to adjust to living with a family he has no previous memory off. It makes sense that Marty goes back to the year 1955, the time period of when adolescence had a voice and began an economic force for the first time in history; plus just take a look at the title of what won Best Picture that year. Marty’s mother being attracted to her son is weirdly funny plus his mother being the opposite of her adult herself; makes you question your own parents claims about their day. I’m always struck by the moment when Marty tell his relatives in 1955 he has two TVs and they think he’s joking yet if you told someone in 1985 that households today own upwards of 6-7 TVs, they would have the same reaction.

Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Back To The Future; to me these are the trilogy of trilogies. The three film sagas I can watch again and again, always notice something new on each viewing, discussing every character to no end, coming up with crazy fan theories and trying to find an explanation to any possible plot hole. I’m sure there are still plenty of subtle gags, use of foreshadowing and who knows what lurked within this film which I still haven’t noticed. Is it possible for a film to be 100% perfect, one which has absolutely nothing wrong with it no matter how minuscule? I can’t think of another film (or series) which has a better use of repeating images and motifs. If I could only bring one DVD to a desert island, it would be my trilogy box set so I could spend my time uncovering every last secret in the trilogy. I love how self-contained the movies are; there are so closely connected to each other and the perfect film trilogy to watch in one go (as I have done several times).

But what is it that makes Back to the Future immensely beloved by such a wide audience? I can tell you why I love it but I have a weird and eccentric film taste. Perhaps it’s due to time travel is something we all fantasize about, as well as the idea of seeing your parents when they were young. The themes the film explores such as family, coming of age, the generation gap and the optimistic message of free will, that our future isn’t written; it’s whatever you make it.

To Be Continued…