According to the Sun, Michael J. Fox wants to do another Back to the Future installment:

The actor, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease, admits he’s keen to make a final film in the series – but only if they make his character as old as he is in real life.

The former Spin City star wants to take over from Christopher Lloyd’s eccentric scientist character, Doc Brown, in the sequel.

He tells movie website Moviehole.net: “The only way it would work would be if I played Doc.

“I’m 44-years-old now and I’m not interested in running around on skateboards!

“I think after 1, 2 and 3 we all kind of felt we had done it.

“And I think if they did it again now they would do it with a younger cast and just do a different realization of it, which would be fun.”

Man, a new Back to the Future movie. That could be cool, but I’d have a few reservations about it. Even though I’d go see it in a heartbeat, it makes me wonder: is another one really necessary? I mean, the first three films perfectly captured the heart of the story. It had a beginning, middle and end, with everything resolving happily in BotF III. (I don’t count the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios.) Adding another movie to the series might just, I dunno, be weird and throw off the dynamic of the original trilogy. I would hate, hate, for BotF IV to ruin the original trilogy for me the way the new Star Wars trilogy single-handedly annihilated my love for Star Wars and its original trilogy.

Also, having Michael J. Fox take over the Doc Brown character? I just can’t really see Marty “What the hell is a jigawatt?” McFly as any type of scientist. He wanted to be a rockstar for God’s sake! He wouldn’t go to college, let alone spend the time in school to get a doctorate. Marty as a political adviser to the President, or as a hip L.A. doctor, now that I could visualize. Besides, I liked Christopher Lloyd too much as Doc Brown. He was awesome. And can you imagine them trying to find another DeLorean? Inconceivable!

To illustrate my point, I’ll give you a snippet of what a Back to the Future IV might be like, sans Doc Brown:

Back to the Future IV: Future Imperfect

Thirty-seven year-old Marty McFly was standing in his parents’ garage, because he still lived with them, looking around at his “lab.” He was wearing his brand-new lab coat he’d purchased at Wal-Mart the day before. His lab, such that is was, consisted of a folding table, a mail-order beaker set, a guitar and matching amp, a minifridge, and some fireworks setting in a barrel.

“Sweet,” he said to himself.

The door leading into the house opened, and out stepped Marty’s protoge, Ernie McMacken. Ernie was sixteen years old and bore an uncanny resemblance to Steve Urkel, a character from one of Marty’s favorite sitcoms. That was also a deciding factor in Marty’s decision to mentor the boy. Aside from being in Physics AP, Ernie was also an amateur rapper who went by the name Hevvy Isotope.

“Hey, Ernie! I’ve got great news.”

Ernie nodded in greeting. “What’s that, Marty?”

Marty’s face turned dark red and he took a threatening step towards Ernie. “I told you to call me Doc, God dammit.”

Fear briefly lit Ernie’s face. “Right…. Uh, sorry, Doc. What’s the, uh, the good news?”

Marty was suddenly happy and exuberant again. He pointed to a piece of twisted, rusting stainless steel on the floor. Ernie thought it resembled a piece of Industrial Art he’d seen once at a museum.

“Well,” Marty began, “I went to that junkyard on Vine and found this gull wing door that might have belonged to a DeLorean. So now we have that and…let’s see, a gear shift, one tire, and part of the bumper. So just a few more car parts, a flux capacitator, some plutonium, and we’re good to go.”

“Wow, Mar — Doc, that’s cool. But….” Ernie hesitated, unsure as to exactly how to bring up the sensitive subject. “Has there been any luck in the whole flux capacitor — ”

“Capacitator,” Marty corrected.

” — capacitator department yet?”

Instead of going off on Ernie as he’d done before, Marty instead nodded. “Designed it last night actually.” He walked over to the folding table and picked up a manila folder. “Here,” he said, handing it to Ernie. Marty picked up a wire brush and sat down on the floor in front of the gull wing door. He began running the brush vigorously over a rust spot.

Ernie opened the folder and examined the flux capacitator design. He frowned. “Hey, Doc?”

“Yeah?”

“You sure this is right?” Ernie held up a sheet of red construction paper. On it, dry macaroni formed the outline of Pac-Man.

Marty looked up from his work and smiled. “Uh-huh.”

“Didn’t you say that the flux capacitator on the first time machine was shaped like a Y?”

“It was, but this one is better, more advanced. It’ll take us into the future or past ten seconds quicker than the old one would.”

“Oh.” Ernie didn’t see the logic in that, but decided not to press the issue. As he held the paper, a piece of macaroni fell off. “So…how did you design this one?”

Marty stood up and went over to the minifridge. He opened it and popped open an ice-cold beer. After taking a long drink, he said, “Funny story. I was at the strip club last night, kicking back a few cold ones, watching Jennifer dance, when it hit me. I figured if the Doc — not me, I mean old Doc Brown, my mentor.”

“Yeah,” Ernie said, “I get it.”

Marty stared hard at Ernie for a second, then went on, “If the Doc came up with the idea for his flux capacitator by slipping on the porcelain in his bathroom and cracking his head on the sink, then why couldn’t I do the same thing?”

“So you went to the bathroom and hit your head on a sink?”

“Hell no,” Marty said. “Have you seen the bathrooms at the Pink Pussy? They’re disgusting.” He took another gulp of beer. “Nah, I just had Needles hit me with a barstool. I woke up a little while later, and scrawled my initial impressions on a napkin. I made that schematic” — he pointed to the macaroni art — “when I got home.”

Ernie’s looked at Marty wide-eyed. “…with a barstool? Are you okay?”

The older man waved a hand dismissively. “Oh yeah, didn’t even need stitches. Now — here’s the game plan. I’m gonna go to a junkyard in San Palito looking for more parts. I’m gonna send you to Home Depot and Radio Shack with a list of stuff I’ll need for the flux capacitator.” He handed over to Ernie a dry erase board with the list on it.

Marty rubbed his hands together, a big grin on his face. “I’ve got a good feeling this time, Ernie. I just know I’m gonna find a whole DeLorean at this one.”

“Look, Doc,” Ernie said, “why don’t you just let me hop on the Internet, and I can check and see if this junkyard has a De….”

Marty was looking at Ernie blankly.

Ernie sighed. “Nevermind. I’ll go start looking for parts.”

Marty heartily slapped him on the back. “Good man, Ernie. Let me grab my keys.” He moved towards the door.

“Be a hell of a lot easier if you’d just use a different car,” Ernie muttered.

Marty stopped, his back turned to Ernie. “What’d you say?” he asked without looking back.

Ernie was horrified. “Nothing, Marty. I didn’t say anything.”

In the space of a heartbeat, Marty had turned around and crossed the distance between them. The next thing Ernie was aware of was being slammed against the wall, with Marty’s hand at his throat. The older man was right in Ernie’s face. Marty smashed a beaker against the wall next to Ernie’s head, and held the shattered base against his cheek.

“I fucking told you to call me Doc, you worthless piece of shit!” Marty shouted.

“I’m sorry, Doc!” Ernie sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

“Now you are going to go shopping,” Marty said calmly, “and I am going to look for my DeLorean, because we are going to use a DeLorean, because that’s what we fucking used the first time! Do you understand me, God dammit?!” He pressed a sharp edge slightly into his protoge’s cheek, accenting his point.

“Yes!” Ernie screamed. “Yes!”

“Good.”

Marty took a step back and let Ernie drop to the floor, who was now a quivering mess. Marty set the broken beaker on the table. “Now I’m going to San Palito. I’ll return in three hours. I expect when I get back you’ll be here with everything on that shopping list. Are we clear?”

Ernie didn’t respond, just continued crying, but Marty assumed he understood. If he didn’t, there would be repercussions. Grabbing his keys, Marty raised the garage door and walked outside into the bright sunlight, humming “Power of Love.”

fin

Okay, that went on a little bit longer than I initially intended, but I think it adequately got across my point. Writing that made me change my mind, however — I think a new Back to the Future movie would be sweet, especially if it was anything like the above “clip.” An unhinged and unsuccessful Marty McFly trying to recapture his past glory, with the aid of a minority sidekick? That’s fucking cinematic gold, right there. It’d be kind of like a sci-fi version of The Shining. Michael J. Fox would probably go for it, since he’d be sure to win an Oscar for portraying a damaged goods Marty McFly.

I should totally write that shit. What do you think?

JAB