Back to the Future really is an exceptional film. Perhaps it doesn’t have the gravitas or social commentary that other films have, but it is an exceptionally crafted film with a brilliantly developed story and characters who are likable and easy to engage with and root for. I’ve heard several screenwriters interviewed where they claim that the screenplay for Back to the Future is either their favorite screenplay or at least in their top five. Indeed, it was nominated for Best Screenplay of 1985 (losing to Witness, which will be a BSsential on a later date), and as I’ll explain as we move along, this script uses several motifs and techniques that make it a textbook example of what to do right when you write a screenplay. This post will be written assuming that you’ve seen the film. If you haven’t, you should see it anyway, but please try and make sure you’ve seen it before reading further.
Why it’s essential
The sheer entertainment value of this film ought to be enough to get just about anyone, even the most curmudgeonly of movie snobs, to enjoy this film. This is a film that has almost everything you need for high entertainment value. It’s funny and dramatic. It has heart. It has great characters that have become iconic over the past three decades since the film’s release. And all of that starts with its amazing screenplay.
I think what’s so great about the script is that there are no wasted words. There are no wasted scenes. There isn’t anything that happens in this script that doesn’t either effect something else in the script or is effected by something else, or at least gets a laugh and/or builds tension or character within the story. Think about even the simple things. The first time we see the main character, Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) he’s carrying his skateboard with him. After he enters the scene he plugs a guitar into an over sized amplifier and nearly blows himself through the room. Then when he finds out he’s late for school, he hustles on his skateboard and skates to school, sometimes catching a ride by holding on to the back of a car. We will also see him play his guitar again later in the first act. Marty will need both of those skills later in the movie at crucial moments so it’s important that we learn as far ahead of time as possible that he has them. He uses a makeshift skateboard to get away from Biff and his henchmen in the middle of Act 2, and then he has to play guitar at the school dance where his parents kiss for the first time. We also learn early on how important it is for Marty to get the chance to play in front of people, and in that scene he gets perhaps the most important audience he could ever get.
Things that seem like throw aways turn out to be crucial story devices. When Marty and his girlfriend Jennifer are about to kiss, they’re interrupted by a woman shoving a flier in their face to save the clock tower. That’s not only where we find out why the clock doesn’t work, but the only reason Marty holds on to what otherwise would be a worthless piece of paper is because Jennifer writes down the phone number to where she’ll be. Then, obviously the time that the lightning hits the clock tower is crucial because, as Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd) says, the only way to generate the 1.21 gigawatts they need is with a bolt of lighting. The list of examples goes on and on.
This script also has a well-constructed Hero’s Journey with a very well-defined Ordinary World, a clear Crossing of the First Threshold into a very clear Special World, and then a clear Road Back and Return with the Elixir. The reason that the Hero’s Journey works so well in this script is because screenwriters Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale crafted the main character in Marty McFly as someone with clear inner needs and outer wants. However with that said, it isn’t really the Hero’s Journey in the classic sense. For example, the Ordinary World is obvious. Marty’s Ordinary World is the town of Hill Valley in 1985. He has a weak, nerdy father who has let the same guy bully him for 30 years and an alcoholic disconnected mother with puritan values that she’s trying to force on her kids. Marty has run afoul of the school’s principal, but he sees bigger things for himself than others seem to, and his best friend is a middle-aged professor that everyone in town thinks is a crack pot. The Hero’s Journey in Back to the Future diverges from the classic model with the Call to Adventure and the Refusal of the Call. Marty’s Call to Adventure actually happens when he Crosses the First Threshold. Unlike other heroes, Marty doesn’t spend the first act either looking for or trying to avoid an adventure. He’s just living his life until the adventure is thrust upon him when he dives into the DeLorean/Time Machine to try and escape the Libyan terrorists from whom Doc Brown has stolen the plutonium that he needs to power the Time Machine. Hitting 88 miles per hour, Marty is sent back in time and is called to adventure as the adventure begins. With that being the case, there is no classic Refusal of the Call, unless you consider his refusal of his mother’s advances throughout the story.
Also, while the structure of the story is perfect, it doesn’t fit the classic parameters. For example most second acts end with the hero losing everything. It doesn’t always happen, but I’d guess that it does probably 90% of the time. Back to the Future is one of the exceptions. However, there is a clear change in the direction of the story, which is always the true indicator of the changing of an act. The first act of Back to the Future is nothing more than Marty living in his Ordinary World, although we’re being given a ton of exposition and we don’t even realize it. The second act is all about Marty trying to get his parents to kiss at the Under the Sea Dance so that he and his siblings are not wiped from existence. The third act is about Marty getting back to the future in time to save Doc Brown. In fact, not only does Marty not lose everything at the end of Act 2, he’s completely successful. There is no real low point for him. He’s completed that phase of his overall goal, and now he’s moving on to the next one.
Another thing that just occurred to me as well, is that there’s a great bit of planting and payoff at the beginning and end of Act 3 where Doc gives Marty (and us) a subtle warning that things will be different for Marty when he gets back. Marty tells Doc that his dad was great and that he punched Biff out and that he’s never done that in his life. Doc, examining the photo of Marty and his siblings and seeing that they’re all there, responds with a peculiar look on his face and ask, “Never?” Marty asks him why, and he tells him not to worry about it. Then when Marty does get back, and his family has transformed from a pathetic group of losers to a well-put together successful family unit, the plant is paid off.
Another thing that’s amazing about this story is how difficult the writers made it on the characters. Every challenge that Marty overcomes is replaced by one that it more difficult, and Marty (or Doc) has to come up with new (end entertaining) ways to overcome them. The shining example is the climax of the film. It’s one obstacle after another. Every time you think they’re in the clear, some other obstacle falls in their way. Zemeckis and Gale really lived by the mantra that audiences will not accept coincidences that help the hero, but will always accept coincidences that hurt him. Here’s the series of events that close out the climax. Marty has written a letter to Doc Brown warning him that he’ll be shot by terrorists on the night that Marty goes back in time, and he slips it in to Doc Brown’s coat pocket. Doc Brown discovers it as Marty is about to get into the car and he tears it up before he can read it, not wanting to know about future events. As Marty tries to tell him, a tree branch is knocked down by the storm and unplugs the cable that will carry the electrical current of the lighting to the car. Doc Brown has to climb all the way up the stairs to the top of the tower and throw a rope down to Marty so that he can tie the end of the cord to it and Doc Brown pulls it up. Marty tries to yell his warning to Doc Brown, but the clock bell chimes, signalling that Marty only has 4 more minutes and Doc tells him to go. Doc then tries to plug the cord in, but it’s hung up on the branch down below. He finally forces the plug in, but it comes unplugged down at the street, and Marty, who had to struggle to restart the car, is now barreling down the street. Doc uses a wire to slide down to the ground and gets the plug reconnected just in time. All of these obstacles hit at once under the threat of a ticking clock, and they all combine to create a highly tense and dramatic sequence.
Speaking of the ticking clock, the concept of time is a motif throughout. Obviously, since this is a movie about time travel, but time plays a critical role in the plot because Marty has multiple ticking clocks that he has to beat. He has to get his parents to kiss and fall in love by the Under the Sea Dance because we’ve been told in the first act that that was where they had their first kiss and that was when Marty’s mother knew that she would marry his father. Without that kiss, Marty is wiped from existence (high stakes). The other ticking clock is 10:04 pm on Saturday night. We know that that’s when lightning will strike the clock tower and unless Marty is in exactly the right place at that time, he’ll never get home and will be stuck in 1955 (more high stakes).
Overall, Back to the Future is the complete package. It’s a highly entertaining film with a masterfully crafted story. I think crafted is the right word for the screenplay and the overall film. There are no accidents in this film. They crafted it in a meticulous and artistic way that has allowed it to become one of those cultural phenomenons that has also become a part of the popular vernacular. It has become ingrained in our popular culture and is certainly a film that anyone could enjoy, but is essential viewing for film buffs.