I couldn't let the recent re-release of 'Back to the Future' pass without a blog (and I know there's been a considerable amount of my comment on twitter over the past couple of weeks too).
Having toiled in order to find a screening in my locale, I finally ended up at the 21.20 Friday showing in Crawley, alone and in a screen empty but for a handful of couples and a family of four.
As the lights dimmed and I settled down with my packet of sweets and carbonated drink, pre-purchased from the BP garage en-route, I couldn't prevent a huge smile from creeping across my face. Here was my attempt to regress manifesting itself around me.
For an hour and forty minutes, I melted away from going concerns and sunk into wonderful childhood memories of skateboards, playground larks and Dad's Chuck Berry cassette tapes, the latter of which would also comprise my formal introduction to rock 'n' roll.
As Michael J Fox 'duck-walked' across stage at the 'Enchanment Under the Sea' dance I actually found myself getting quite emotional - in truth I'd already shed a tear at the moment Marty's parents kiss for the first time despite having seen it before a hundred times - yet I realised I wasn't welling up just by way of association with a lost youth but as a reaction to the film's underlying themes.
Here too was a rites of passage, a young man with his own oedipal issues, struggling with that nagging sense that he's retreading his parents past mistakes.
I realise I'm over egging this obsession now so shall draw a line under it here, but the last thing I will say is that the film itself still stands up as a true classic.
On re-visting Back to the Future from an adult perspective, it's incredible just how tight the film making is. There's no excess baggage or padding, every single plot point having a significance that is wound into the overarching story. There's also an abudance of quick-witted charm that flows from every scene. Needless to say, I left the cinema with a very warm glow indeed.
Here endeth my retreat.
Having toiled in order to find a screening in my locale, I finally ended up at the 21.20 Friday showing in Crawley, alone and in a screen empty but for a handful of couples and a family of four.
As the lights dimmed and I settled down with my packet of sweets and carbonated drink, pre-purchased from the BP garage en-route, I couldn't prevent a huge smile from creeping across my face. Here was my attempt to regress manifesting itself around me.
For an hour and forty minutes, I melted away from going concerns and sunk into wonderful childhood memories of skateboards, playground larks and Dad's Chuck Berry cassette tapes, the latter of which would also comprise my formal introduction to rock 'n' roll.
As Michael J Fox 'duck-walked' across stage at the 'Enchanment Under the Sea' dance I actually found myself getting quite emotional - in truth I'd already shed a tear at the moment Marty's parents kiss for the first time despite having seen it before a hundred times - yet I realised I wasn't welling up just by way of association with a lost youth but as a reaction to the film's underlying themes.
Here too was a rites of passage, a young man with his own oedipal issues, struggling with that nagging sense that he's retreading his parents past mistakes.
I realise I'm over egging this obsession now so shall draw a line under it here, but the last thing I will say is that the film itself still stands up as a true classic.
On re-visting Back to the Future from an adult perspective, it's incredible just how tight the film making is. There's no excess baggage or padding, every single plot point having a significance that is wound into the overarching story. There's also an abudance of quick-witted charm that flows from every scene. Needless to say, I left the cinema with a very warm glow indeed.
Here endeth my retreat.
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