Eric Stoltz made me understand the tragedy of the ending of Back to the Future and the inhumanity of the American Dream

[Will_Carter]

It's actually quite unclear what happens to your current alternate version when you appear in their timeline. 1985A Doc is institutionalized and 1985A Marty is at boarding school, so they can just ignore the issue all together.

It suddenly occored to me that Doc's concerns over self interaction are completely stupid even by Doc's own logic. He KNOWS Future Biff interacted with his past self to give himself the almanac. So he knows that self interaction isn't an automatic universal kaboom. Just... don't let information travel that you are talking to yourself?

 

[fireproof78]

What era has NOT had an emphasis on material gain? The 70's emphasized gaining as much material as one could, which was admittedly not as much. If anything the 80's emphasized "Oh my stars and garters, we have MONEY again!"

Did the post war era not emphasize material gain? (Same as the 80's, I would guess. "Hey, we're not at war with Germany and Japan anymore! And we have REFRIGERATORS now!")

Monetary gain has long been associated with either blessings from a god, or a sign of good living.

The McFly's are more confident and connected with each other so they make more money and are prosperous, not they have more money and therefore are more confident.

The first makes sense in the language of the film and the other is putting the cart before the horse.

 

[Skipper]

Monetary gain has long been associated with either blessings from a god,

Usually a Protestant/Calvinist one.

The Catholic one is very resistant to these things.

 

[Tallguy]

Usually a Protestant/Calvinist one.

(Goes and reads Job again.) Or... Earlier.

 

[fireproof78]

Usually a Protestant/Calvinist one.

The Catholic one is very resistant to these things.

Hardly unique to a purely Christian worldview. The Jews had it, despite the oldest book of the Tanakh arguing this wasn't the case. Prosperity and material gain being a blessing is hardly a new idea to humanity.

ETA: ninja'd by @Tallguy

 

[UssGlenn]

It suddenly occored to me that Doc's concerns over self interaction are completely stupid even by Doc's own logic. He KNOWS Future Biff interacted with his past self to give himself the almanac. So he knows that self interaction isn't an automatic universal kaboom. Just... don't let information travel that you are talking to yourself?

He's only concerned about Armageddon when discussing Jennifer meeting herself. At that point the Almanac hasn't been stolen yet. Once she passes out, their only concern later is not interfering with their past selves, to prevent a standard paradox, but there is no more discussion of widespread destruction.

 

[Anwar]

Like you I see that his parents still love him (though what we don't see are the potential arguments over why Marty looks like Calvin Klein, why and how NOBODY has been able to find Calvin after the night of the dance thus likely turning it into a hill valley urban legend.)

They don't question it because Marty looks exactly like George's Grandfather and Great-Grandfather, the ones from Part 3 who both look just like Michael J Fox

Edit: Sorry, missed a generation

 

[Will_Carter]

They don't question it because Marty looks exactly like his Grandfather and Great-Grandfather, the ones from Part 3 who both look just like Michael J Fox

In that case in hindsight George might've concluded 'Calvin' was some long distant relative. He'd probably conclude Calvin was a figment of his imagination if it hadn't been for other people interacting with him based on strong family resemblance.

 

[Phoenix219]

It's actually quite unclear what happens to your current alternate version when you appear in their timeline. 1985A Doc is institutionalized and 1985A Marty is at boarding school, so they can just ignore the issue all together.

Well we have seen it nothing happened to them. It's the same time. It's how the 1955 scenes in part two work.

We also know that the world will change around you because of Jennifer.

If biff wasn't killed at some point then there would be two biffs. That would be a great duel and confrontation for the crown lol

 

[Phoenix219]

Exactly. As if it were impossible to imagine someone being happy AND not having material possessions to prove it.

But as Kai "the spy" has often repeated, it is not the interpretation of some left-wing critic, it is something that has been recognized by the authors of the film themselves.

And again, no one is going to convince me that it was an absolutely common thing in the 80s to give a brand new pick-up truck to a teenage son as if it were a bicycle.

After being called out by the left wing critic.

Were they supposed to be argumentative? We have no idea what their personally feelings were; they could have the exact same feelings as half of this thread. But, since the other half is valid, they took the criticism and made changes. Nowhere does that imply agreement, only acquiescence.

 

[Phoenix219]

Because they are destined to return, and nothing happened that would have prevented them from returning.

Reminds me of some jumps I had to make when dissecting Heroes time travel - intention matters. At the beginning, before he knows he has powers, Hiro disappears and no one has seen him for weeks when he pops to the future early on, yet later usage always has a future Hiro in play, because he knows he is going to return when he jumps.

 

[Set Harth]

In that case in hindsight George might've concluded 'Calvin' was some long distant relative. He'd probably conclude Calvin was a figment of his imagination if it hadn't been for other people interacting with him based on strong family resemblance.

George going through his underwear drawer one day:
"Lorraine, get in here! You're not gonna believe this!"

 

[Kai "the spy"]

To view this content we will need your consent to set third party cookies.
For more detailed information, see our cookies page.

Accept third party cookies

 

[Phoenix219]

George going through his underwear drawer one day:
"Lorraine, get in here! You're not gonna believe this!"

Courtesy of Grok -

Marty McFly crashes back into 1985, tumbling out of the DeLorean and into his cluttered bedroom. He’s beat—time travel’s no picnic—so he kicks off his shoes and starts shedding his wrinkled clothes, leaving them in a heap. Downstairs, George McFly is poking through a laundry basket, a rare moment of pitching in since Lorraine’s been after him about “sharing the load.” Marty’s never touched a washing machine, so the pile’s mostly his anyway.

George picks up a pair of boxer briefs, fumbling with them as he tries to fold something for once. Then he spots it: “Calvin” stitched into the waistband. He tilts his head, puzzled. “Huh. That’s… odd,” he mumbles, scratching his neck. “Lorraine! Hey, Lorraine, you’re not gonna believe this!”
Lorraine sweeps in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What now, George? Did you shrink my sweater again?”

He holds up the underwear like it’s a science experiment. “No, look—Marty’s got ‘Calvin’ written in his shorts. Is that a brand or… did he join some club we don’t know about?”
Lorraine freezes, the name hitting her like a static shock. Calvin. Her breath catches as a blurry memory flares—1955, a boy in her parents’ house, those same letters on his clothes. She sees him for a split second: awkward, out of place, calling her by name like he knew her. Her eyes narrow, then she blinks it away, forcing a tight smile. “A brand, probably. Like… Calvin Klein. I’ve seen ads for that.” But her voice wavers, and the unease creeps in, coiling in her gut.

George nods, oblivious, turning the boxers over in his hands. “Yeah, makes sense. Kids and their fads. Remember when he wouldn’t stop wearing that red vest? Looked like a lifeboat reject.”
Lorraine’s not listening. She’s staring at the “Calvin,” that ghost of a memory tugging harder. “It’s just… strange,” she says softly, almost to herself. She shrugs it off—or tries to—but the feeling sticks, heavy and unplaceable.

Marty, halfway through changing upstairs, hears the exchange and nearly chokes. Not again. The ’55 Calvin Klein fiasco—he thought he’d left that in the past, literally. He barrels downstairs, forcing a laugh. “Uh, hey, Dad, Mom! Those are mine! Just some dumb trend, you know, totally normal!”
George grins, handing them over. “Trendy Marty. Who’d have thought?”

Lorraine’s gaze lingers on him, sharp and searching. “Right. A trend.” She doesn’t sound convinced. Marty snatches the boxers and bolts, but she watches him go, that flicker of 1955 gnawing at her. She shakes her head—it’s nothing, just a coincidence—but the unease doesn’t budge, a quiet shadow she can’t shake.