One of the pipe dreams my college roommate and I had was to move to northern California and own a movie theater than would screen old movies. I can’t tell you why it was northern California any more than you can tell me why it wasn’t, so we’ll drop it. I went to school just outside of Boston and there was a movie theater we’d gone to at Coolidge Corner where, among other movies, my roommate and I saw The Graduate on the big screen and where I saw on the even bigger screen 2001 and Metropolis. I loved movies and I loved that there was a theater nearby that would provide this wonderful service, of giving these superior films a chance to live again at their intended size and fullest glory. They’ll live forever in other forms, but until we all have screening rooms in our houses, only rarely will the quality of their life match the quantity of their remaining days.

In this spirit, I was wetting myself when I found out that Back to the Future would again appear on the big screen to commemorate the movie’s 25th anniversary, and specifically roundabout the date on which the action begins. It’s been one of my favorite movies since I recall seeing the second part in a theater when it came out in 1989. A decade after starting to study movies in college, after seeing so many of the great films and appreciating those, too, I’ve looked back and thought there’s no movie franchise I’ve enjoyed more, or more deeply. I’m not alone in this.

And that was the charm of last night: I wasn’t alone then, either. I was surrounded by hundreds of excited Back to the Future fans at one of the nationwide screenings, this one in Times Square. If not for the three under-five-year-olds with their parents in the row in front of me, parents who made a wise choice, I’d say the audience was entirely folks between 25 and 32. Some were dressed up but not many, and I was okay that this franchise doesn’t really merit or require costumes for these kinds of screenings. My own enthusiasm would be enough and if I wanted to keep it to myself, so much the better.

Now, I can’t put words in the mouth of every tall guy out there, and I don’t want to imply that they should feel guilty if they don’t, but: I have my own rules for enjoying shows and concerts, and they’ve served me well. I’m 6’5″, so I’m often self-conscious, more so at times when people behind me are paying to see the thing that’s in front of me. At concerts, I try to stick to a small area, so people behind me don’t have to bob and weave. Once they move out from behind me, that’ll be good enough for both of us. This choice doesn’t inhibit my own enjoyment of the show, and I hope it ameliorates theirs. So at movies, when the row behind me is full, I take a seat and I try to stay in it. The last thing I want is for the person behind me to have gotten there first, then I sit down, then I move over and his view is blocked. It’s a small thing, probably needlessly polite, but it keeps my conscience clean.

This good deed did not go unpunished yesterday. There were four seats at the end of one row. My friend had the fourth one in, I had the second. Between my thought to free up two adjacent seats for a couple, and my friend’s suggestion that it was closer to the center, it was a sensible idea. I was reluctant because of the person behind me who was settled in, but in a rare occurrence the seats went up high enough so that my head was blocked and I was in the clear. From that direction at least.

The couple that sat next to me should have won an award for their performances. Just the most irritating two people who have ever sat next to me. Young, annoying, too clever by half, with high-pitched voices and huge backpacks and the kind of dispositions where they’re compelled at every turn to let the world know how smart they think they are, whether the world cares or not, and it doesn’t. The guy was much worse than the girl, who sat between us. He stepped on every single big line. The funny ones, the emotional ones. Maddeningly, every time I turned to say something, he had been stopped for a couple of minutes, so I thought he was done for good. Then he chimed in and the urge to kill rose again. If I’d learned nothing from the movie we were all watching it was not to be a pushover, but I thought: We’re all here to enjoy this movie. It’s an uncommon occasion. Just because I’m introverted in my appreciation doesn’t mean he should be straitjacketed and gagged.

I’d been wrong before. The guy started stepping on lesser lines, then messing up the famous ones. He insisted on rattling on, spreading his expertise but was also shocked to find out Billy Zane was in the movie. What? He needn’t have gesticulated so much, either. I hope the girl between us was embarrassed for herself but even if she wasn’t, it’s punishment enough that she’s going out with this tool and it’s for the betterment of humanity that no one else is dating her, either. When the lights went up I thought of hitting him with my rubber-banded commemorative poster, and would have if I could ensure more damage to him than the poster. I also had the inclination to ball up my fist slowly and punch this fucker so hard he’d spin around a couple of times, after which I’d smile and laugh at his girlfriend and hold out my hand and ask, “Are you okay?”

I didn’t have dinner until after the movie, so I was a bit cranky. I chalked it up to that.

The movie itself, context now excluded, was absolutely marvelous. It’s no wonder it did so well in its initial theatrical release all those summers ago, no wonder that it’s become the classic it is. I’m so thankful that I finally did see it at a real theater. Bigger truly was better. The action sequences were more impressive. Christopher Lloyd was altogether funnier: Doc is always charming, but this time his muggings and reactions earned the laughs they may only get in large groups of people. Lea Thompson was even more impossibly pretty. And Michael J. Fox, for all the good things he’s endeavoring to accomplish now, it was amazing to see firsthand an image of the guy, forty feet high, in one of the two roles that captured America’s hearts and imaginations and really set him on his journey.

It’s with no shame that I continue to call this set of movies my favorite. I’m always blown away by the narrative ingenuity of the second part, specifically at the dance – I’ve stolen the device myself, and giddily so. I’m always touched by the heart of the third part, at Doc’s kind words at the beginning in the letter and at the end on the train. But this first one was of course the movie that started it all. It’s an extremely well-put-together screenplay, full of dramatic moments, hitting all sorts of emotional spots, spanning a couple of different genres and time periods. It does all this, but doesn’t seem to be doing too much, either, or trying too hard. And without going too far into it, this time I took from the end of the movie that while putting your mind to things might be an integral part of success, having the courage to carry out the effort is even more fundamental, that changing yourself is the first step to changing the world around you.