Back to the Future is not simply a film; And a cultural time machine which, for entire generations, defined the collective imagination of the American 1950s. When Marty McFly, aboard his DeLorean, speeds from 1985 to 1955, he does not land in an era reconstructed with the pedantry of a documentary, but in a dreamed era, a distillation of nostalgia artfully created to serve a perfect story.

The analysis of his 1955 representation reveals, in fact, a fascinating balance between meticulous attention to detail and deliberate romanticisation. The work of Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale did not aim for absolute historical fidelity, but rather to evoke the feeling of an era, creating a version of the past so vivid and fascinating that it becomes, in our minds, more real than reality itself. The Hill Valley of 1955 is, in essence, the product of the selective memory of the 80s, a decade which, under the Reagan presidency, looked back with nostalgia to the post-war period as a lost golden age, a period of innocence, prosperity and moral certainties.

Back to the Future will return to the big screen: the October 21st, symbolic day of the saga, Marty McFly, Doc Brown and the legendary DeLorean will make fans of all ages relive the emotions of a timeless classic. The October 21st in fact it is not just any date: it is the day in which Marty travels through time in the second chapter of the trilogy and, since 2015, it is the world day of celebrations dedicated to the saga. For the occasion, Nexo Studios invites everyone to show up at the cinema with outfits inspired by the film (red vest, scientist coat, Nike Mag): the aim is to create the largest gathering of fans in Italy. Photos shared with the hashtag #RitornoAlFuturoDay40 will enter the official social channels of Nexo Studios.

List of rooms and pre-sales available on nexostudios.it. POP culture is media partner of the event.

The scenic archetype of the small American town

The physical reconstruction of the town of Hill Valley is the film's first, and most obvious, triumph. The scenography, curated by Lawrence G. Paull, does not limit itself to acting as a backdrop, but becomes an active charactera tangible symbol of the optimism and order that characterized postwar America. The beating heart of this universe is Courthouse Square, a microcosm of community life that served as a social and commercial center. The courthouse's neoclassical architecture, with its iconic clock, evokes a sense of stability and tradition. Around it, the shops have been recreated with philological care: Lou's pharmacy, which also serves as a "soda fountain" with its Formica counter and swivel stools, was an authentic meeting point for young people of the time, a place of innocent socialization.

The Texaco gas station it is another extraordinary glimpse of lost daily life; the scene in which a squadron of uniformed workers rushes to service Doc Brown's car, checking the oil and cleaning the windows, is not a comic exaggeration, but the faithful representation of the concept of "full service" which defined the automotive culture of the timea stark contrast to the impersonal self-service of 1985. Even the local movie theater, the Essex Theater, adds to the historical immersion by screening Cattle Queen of Montana, a 1954 western starring Barbara Stanwyck and a then B-list actor, Ronald Reagan, a detail that serves as both a period reference and a witty wink to the president in office at the time of the film's release.

However, this scenographic precision serves a purpose build a deeply idealized image. The Hill Valley of 1955 is pristine, free of decay, crime, or visible tension. It's a sunny, uncluttered world, a postcard version that purges the story of its complexities. The most glaring absence concerns the deep racial tensions that defined the America of those years: 1955 was a crucial year for the civil rights movement, the year of the Montgomery bus boycott. Yet, in Hill Valley, the diner owner, Lou, is an African-American man who serves a mixed clientele without any apparent problem.

This depiction of peaceful integration, while laudable, is a clear historical simplificationa choice made to make the past a more comfortable and less problematic place for the diverse audience of the 1980s. Likewise, there is no trace of Cold War paranoiaof the "Red Scare" and McCarthyism that cast a shadow of suspicion over society, nor of the anxiety about a nuclear holocaust that led children to do "duck and cover" drills in schools. The film consciously chooses to show only the brighter and more innocent side of the decade.

Customs between loyalty and narrative stereotype

The work of costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis was fundamental in bringing the characters to life and instantly communicating their social identity. Costumes are another area in which the film mixes remarkable accuracy with the use of visual archetypes functional to the narrative. Women's fashion is reconstructed with great attention: the girls at the "Enchantment under the Sea" ball perfectly embody the aesthetics of the time, with their cocktail dresses with full skirts supported by layers of crinoline, neat hairstyles such as the ponytail or the pageboy, and the inevitable ballet shoes. Lorraine Baines, in her daily life, shows off full skirts and blouses that adhere to the stylistic canons of the time. The menswear is also faithfulwith adults almost always in formal attire, complete with jacket, tie and hat, reflecting a much stricter dress code than that of 1985.

▶" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen title="Vedi il video">

Alongside this fidelity, the film relies on visual stereotypes to make the social hierarchy of the school immediately understandable. Biff Tannen's gang is the quintessential "greaser," an image codified by icons like Marlon Brando in The Wild One. Their leather jackets, jeans and slicked hair immediately label them as the "bad boys", rebels without a cause. On the contrary, George McFly and the other "respectable" kids dress more conventionally, with shirts and trousers that identify them as part of the conformist current.

In this panorama, Marty McFly's clothing is the most blatant and significant anachronism: his red sleeveless down jacket, an iconic item of 80s fashion, is an element of constant visual disruption. Every time he appears on stage, his jacket screams "future", marking him as an outsider and generating one of the film's most effective recurring gags. It's not a historical mistake, but a brilliant directorial choice who uses costume to underline the central theme of temporal eradication.

The soundtrack of a revolution

It is perhaps in the representation of popular culture that Back to the Future reaches its highest peaks, using music and media as emotional vehicles to transport the viewer to the heart of 1955. The soundtrack is a perfect mosaic of hits from the era. Songs like "Mr. Sandman" by The Four Aces or the romantic doo-wop ballad "Earth Angel" by The Penguins, which is the backdrop to George and Lorraine's first kiss, are not simply songs, but time capsules that instantly evoke an atmosphere. The film also captures the moment of cultural transition in which television was becoming the new homea phenomenon seen with a mixture of wonder and suspicion, as demonstrated by the dinner at the Baines house. George's passion for science fiction, evidenced by his short stories and comics such as Tales from Space, is another authentic detail that reflects the era's obsession with space and extraterrestrials, an obsession that Marty will use to his advantage in the famous scene of "Darth Vader from the planet Vulcan".

However, the most culturally significant, and historically most inaccurate, moment is the Marty's dazzling performance of "Johnny B. Goode" during the dance. The song, which would become one of the founding anthems of rock and roll, was only written and released by Chuck Berry in 1958. This poetic license is the film's stroke of narrative genius. Zemeckis and Gale create a delightful time paradox in which Marty, an '80s white boy who grew up on rock, actually "teaches" the song to his own creator via his cousin Marvin Berry.

The scene is a celebration of the disruptive force of rock and roll, so much so the public reaction of 1955 is represented in three phases: first the dismay at that new and aggressive sound, then the enthralling enthusiasm and, finally, the confusion when Marty launches into a hard rock solo complete with feedback and tapping, guitar techniques that would be invented decades later. That anachronism is not a mistakebut the exact point where the story of the film intertwines with the story of the music to create a moment of pure cinematic magic.

In short, Back to the Future 1955 is not and does not want to be a faithful portrait of history. It is a nostalgic fantasy, an affectionate and carefully constructed interpretation that favors emotion and narrative clarity over documentary accuracy. Its omissions and simplifications are conscious choices that serve to create a welcoming past, an imaginary golden age where problems are personal and solvable, and where the future is still a blank canvas full of promise. It is precisely this skilful blend of authentic details and romantic idealization that has made his vision of the 1950s so powerful, iconic and, paradoxically, immortal.