I contributed the Thought for the Day on Radio Ulster on Sunday 15 February.
You can listen here, or read it below:
Back to the Future
Not long ago, my 10-year-old son started asking for a DeLorean. Not to drive himself, of course, but because he had spotted the sports car in a toy catalogue, its distinctive doors lifting like birds’ wings as a miniature Marty McFly stepped out.
My son had never seen Back to the Future, the classic film in which the DeLorean stars as a super-cool time-travelling machine. Nor did he know that the car was made in Belfast, a bold manufacturing experiment at the height of the Troubles. Still, something in that image captured his imagination.
So a DeLorean was duly acquired. A tiny Marty McFly, Doc Brown, and Einstein the dog completed the set.
My son asked me to play Back to the Future with him. But it had been nearly four decades since I had last watched the film, and I struggled to remember basic details of the plot and characters. That didn’t deter us. Hours were spent preparing the DeLorean for time travel and deciding where and when it might take Doc, Marty, and even Einstein.
Last year marked the 40th anniversary of Back to the Future, prompting a modest revival—not just in toy shops, but on streaming services too. There were anniversary screenings in Belfast cinemas. When I asked my son if he wanted to watch the film, he refused. He worried that knowing what happened might disrupt the Back to the Future world he had already created in his imagination.
Lacking the imagination of a 10-year-old, I rewatched the film on the sly, hoping to find details to enrich our play. The DeLorean, it must be said, was a convincing time machine. Even more compelling was the film’s central idea: that what we do today matters—not only now, but far into the future, in ways we can’t foresee.
During Marty McFly’s accidental trip to 1955, his teenage father unexpectedly stands up to the bully who had tormented him for years—a bully viewers had already seen still harassing him in 1985. When Marty returns to his own time, that single act has transformed his family’s future: lives of quiet desperation have been replaced by optimism and hope.
Someday, I expect, my son will watch Back to the Future. For now, though, his belief that some things should remain unknown fits neatly with the film’s message. As Doc Brown says at the end: “Your future hasn’t been written yet. So make it a good one.”