[0.1] Abstract - Back to the Future (1985) is usually regarded as a sci-fi comedy film about time travel, and it’s rarely given extensive academic attention. But Richard Dyer’s “White” examines the dominance of whiteness across mainstream film, and can be used to analyze Back to the Future through the lens of race.
[0.2] Keywords - race, white savior, invisible whiteness, normative whiteness, Hollywood cinema, white privilege, cultural appropriation, civil rights movement
[0.3] Trailer -
Petrozzo, Megan. 2026. “Whiteness as the Norm in Back to the Future,” Muhlenberg Visions. Volume 4, No. 1.
[1] Back to the Future (1985) is usually regarded as a sci-fi comedy film about time travel, and it’s rarely given extensive academic attention. Richard Dyer’s “White” examines the dominance of whiteness across mainstream film, which can be used to analyze Back to the Future through the lens of race. The setting of Hill Valley is predominantly white, especially in 1955, where (or in this case, when) Marty McFly accidentally ends up while trying to outrun a group of Libyan terrorists. Dyer references the video Being White, where people articulate the definition of white domination as white people who “colonize the definition of normal” (Dyer 45). He also cites Paul Gilroy’s discussion of whiteness’s political consequences - “the way that whiteness both disappears behind and is subsumed into other identities” (Dyer 45). However, if whiteness is invisible, then the traits of white domination become much more difficult to understand.
[2] When Marty arrives in 1955, he walks through Hill Valley as Mr. Sandman plays. White audiences who grew up in the 1950s, and who saw the film when it was first released, were treated to a nostalgia trip. For modern audiences, this reinforces the myth that small-town America in the 1950s was idyllic. If we look at the film through the lens of race, however, we can see that Hill Valley is racially sanitized. Black people are virtually absent. The audience is shown a shot of the town’s record store, where the only musician of color on display is Nat King Cole. Back to the Future’s nostalgic tone largely depends on whiteness, sanitizing the town of any characters of color, who aren’t seen. By hiding the town’s racial segregation, the whiteness in town presents itself as “normal.”
[3] Whiteness is almost invisible due to what Dyer describes as a “colourless multi-colouredness” (Dyer 46). This makes white characters extremely difficult, if not impossible, to analyze. White isn’t really an identity – it is “no colour, because it is all colours” (Dyer 45). As such, Marty blends in easily in 1955 Hill Valley. His puffer vest is frequently mistaken for a life preserver, but nobody questions him racially.
[4] While Goldie Wilson, a Black man, was the mayor of Hill Valley in 1985, 1955 depicts him as a busboy at Lou’s Café. Beneath the nostalgic representation of 1950s America, the few Black people in town are segregated and mostly limited to janitorial work and music. Marvin Berry and the Starlighters are a local band performing at the high school’s Enchantment Under the Sea Dance.
[5] During the initial scene in Lou’s Café, Marty observes as Goldie tells Marty’s father George off for not standing up to Biff Tannen and his gang. Dyer notes the ways in which Black characters are marked as non-normative: “Looking, with such passion and single-mindedness, at non-dominant groups has had the effect of reproducing the sense of the oddness, differentness, exceptionality of these groups, the feeling that they are departures from the norm,” Dyer states. (Dyer 44) Goldie even says, “Look at me!” Marty’s uninvolved gaze reinforces whiteness as the standard, while Goldie’s dialogue frames him as an exceptional person.
[6] Goldie’s proclamation, “One day, I’m gonna be somebody!” particularly shows a great deal of ambition that’s notable for challenging the norm. Marty recognizes Goldie Wilson’s name from the future and blurts out loud, “That’s right! He’s gonna be mayor!” as if he’s still in 1985, disoriented by his time-travel journey. This nearly exposes him as knowing the future. Instead, Marty’s words inspire Goldie, creating a comical juxtaposition. In addition, the scene creates the paradox of a white character, albeit accidentally, fueling Black (“extraordinary”) inspiration without posing a threat. Marty doesn’t intend to encourage Goldie’s ambitions, but as an “ordinary” person, Marty has the privilege to speak in public areas without being challenged. His unmarked whiteness alone means he can blurt out, “He’s gonna be mayor!” yet avoid raising suspicion. For him, it’s an “ordinary” moment that the film treats as funny, while it makes Goldie more exceptional. Lou marks Goldie’s ambition by scoffing, “A colored mayor. That’ll be the day.” Alongside reinforcing societal disbelief in Black power in 1955, his comment highlights the social notion Dyer analyzes that whiteness is the “inevitable, ordinary way of being human” (Dyer 44).
[7] Dyer sees a paradox in the “scientific difference between black and white” that he learned about in primary school (Dyer 45). My own understanding of the RGB color model supports what he learned, in which black is no color (R-0, G-0, B-0) whereas white is all of the colors (R-255, G-255, B-255). “In the realm of categories,” on the other hand, “black is always marked as a colour (as the term ‘coloured’ egregiously acknowledges), and is always particularising” (Dyer 45). Because Black characters are marked, they’re easier to analyze, but also more subject to racism by default.
[8] In America, 1955 was a pivotal year for the civil rights movement. While Back to the Future takes place in November 1955, a month before Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, Emmett Till had been murdered three months earlier. Lou’s racist comment dismantles the nostalgic lens of the 1950s seen earlier, satisfying audiences with an understanding of Wilson’s future. By 1985, Black political power was a reality in major American cities. But the film frames Marty as having inadvertently set that idea in motion.
[9] Goldie quickly responds to Lou’s negative comment by insisting that he will be mayor, ending in the statement, “And I’m gonna clean up this town!” Lou scornfully replies, “Good. You can start by sweeping the floor.” Despite such a dismissive statement, Goldie immediately says to himself, “Mayor Goldie Wilson. I like the sound of that!” By staying focused in the moment on his future title, Goldie transcends Lou’s cynicism.
[10] On the night of the dance, three of Biff’s henchmen chase Marty into the Starlighters’ car and lock him in the trunk. When one of the band members intervenes, henchman 3-D dishes out a racial slur. “Hey, beat it, spook! This don’t concern you!” he says. The slur “spook,” normally thought of as a term for a ghost, is connected to what Dyer describes as Western associations of whiteness with light (“safety") and blackness with darkness (“danger”) (Dyer 45). 3-D’s use of the slur immediately singles out and racially marks the Starlighters as Black. White characters aren’t usually racially marked because they don’t have an identity, but this moment leads to a joke that claps back at him.
[11] Marty can’t physically intervene during this moment because he’s locked in the trunk. Refusing to stay silent, the Starlighters emerge from the car as Marvin Berry responds, “Who you callin’ spook, peckerwood?” Due to its invisibility, whiteness doesn’t need a racial slur to be named, but the term “peckerwood” is used to refer to a white person, particularly a poor one; it is an inversion of woodpecker, and contrasted with the blackbird. The band’s fury scares off the gang. While this moment creates comic tension, the assertion and pushback simultaneously depart from the “ordinary” default of Hill Valley.
[12] The Starlighters can’t find their car keys. From inside the trunk, Marty tells the Starlighters where their keys are. They get him out by prying the trunk open using a screwdriver, but Marvin accidentally cuts his hand. This nearly cuts the dance short, making Marty desperate, as his parents, George McFly and Lorraine Baines, are supposed to kiss for the first time on the dance floor. Believing he has to be the one in control of the timeline, Marty says, “And if there’s no music, they can’t dance. If they can’t dance, they can’t kiss. If they can’t kiss, they can’t fall in love, and I’m history!” “Hey, man, the dance is over. Unless you know somebody else that can play the guitar,” Marvin tells him.
[13] Gilligan cut back to the dance, where Earth Angel is being performed. Marty himself has volunteered to play the guitar. By playing, Marty serves as what I consider a white savior. Despite his hand injury, Marvin can still front the band and sing. However, music becomes an even more racialized form of labor for him and the rest of the band, because now they are dependent on Marty’s guitar playing. Black labor (music) is disrupted, and whiteness presents itself as necessary to fix it. There are some shots of the Starlighters, but most of the time, the camera focuses its attention on Marty. No one questions Marty’s role as guitarist in a Black band because it feels natural to the film; Marty is unmarked and invisible in the way Dyer describes.
[14] However, Marty’s white-savior pattern is briefly disrupted when another guy, Dixon, tries to steal Marty’s mom Lorraine from her future husband, George. Because George clams up and doesn’t fight for her, Marty begins to fade from the photograph of him and his siblings; if his parents don’t get together, he literally will not exist. Marty sees his own hand begin to vanish, weakening his ability to play the guitar as he very nearly becomes “nothing.” The band grows concerned when Marty stumbles, even as Marvin tries to carry on singing normally. A dependent Marty becomes analyzable here since his literal fading makes him visible, inverting Dyer’s argument towards white people being nearly impossible to analyze “qua white.” Luckily, George finds the courage, which Marty helps him rehearse in an earlier sequence, to stand up for himself again and fight for Lorraine, indirectly making him the white savior for a brief moment. Marty gives him this courage when they practice a moment where the former “takes advantage” of Lorraine in the car, so George will come “rescue” her and say, “Hey, you! Get your damn hands off her!” This provides George with a “script” for white heroism.
[15] By the time George arrives at the scene, however, Biff is the one harassing Lorraine – for real – since his henchmen have taken Marty away. When George tells Biff to leave her alone, Biff grabs and twists his arm, threatening to break it. Lorraine tries to force Biff off of George, but Biff shoves and laughs at her in response. This angers George enough to knock Biff out with one punch, just in time for Marty to witness.
[16] Unlike in the earlier sequence, George has to step up for himself here, without Marty’s coaching. For one thing, Marty doesn’t notice the situation until his fading causes him to stumble. Even if he did notice it in time, he would still be too weak and vulnerable to intervene. Being the only person left in his childhood photograph, his very existence is on the line, complicating him as the savior and revealing the limits of his actions. He can bring live music back to the dance, and he can play matchmaker with his parents, but he can’t make them fall in love. That’s up to George, another white man, since Dixon is trying to cut in on him and Lorraine.
[17] When Lorraine calls for help, George hesitates at first. Thankfully, he regains his courage and pushes Dixon to the floor. After pushing him away, he kisses Lorraine, instantly bringing Marty back from the brink - Marty is now able to play the guitar again, and his photograph is fully restored. The only reason Marty is back in control is because of George’s actions, and even so, that only comes after George acts. While Marty can’t replace George’s courage entirely, he does catalyze it.
[18] After the song is finished, Marty is about to leave, but the Starlighters encourage him to perform “something that really cooks.” He plays and sings Johnny B. Goode, a 1958 song by Chuck Berry. In the middle of the song, Marvin phones his cousin - the real Chuck Berry. “You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well, listen to this!” The universe of Back to the Future frames Marty’s performance as a white “innovator” in rock and roll – a genre of Black origin – shaping the film’s cultural and racial irony. Marty has introduced the genuine historical Black pioneer, Chuck Berry, to his own music. Suddenly Marty is the expert in playing classic rock and roll, which is ironic considering how lacking he is in confidence earlier in the film after his band, The Pinheads, is judged as “too darn loud."
[19] Dyer’s description of whiteness as “everything and nothing” (Dyer 45) applies here to the absorption of Black culture. Eventually, Marty’s performance absorbs even more Black culture as he launches into an outrageous Jimi Hendrix-style solo; Hendrix’s innovative style was later absorbed into the heavy metal played by white boys in the 1980s. Once Marty’s finished playing, the crowd silently stares at him in confusion. “I guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet,” he awkwardly says. The film itself doesn’t frame it as odd because his whiteness has become “all of the colors,” in which whiteness in film naturally absorbs other cultures. “…but your kids are gonna love it.” Not only can this be interpreted as a nod to rock and roll eventually becoming more popular with white audiences by the 1980s, but it can also be interpreted as a nod to the white musicians who would adopt or appropriate Black rock and roll themselves. The crowd is heard applauding when Marty leaves, making the narrative ultimately reward him for “innovating” Black culture. Dyer mentions that whiteness is presented more as a case of “historical accident,” rather than a cultural construction (Dyer 46). In the case of Back to the Future, “historical accident” is quite a literal way to put it.
[20] In addition to changing the sound of rock and roll, Marty’s interventions shape Hill Valley’s political and cultural future. His performance of Johnny B. Goode is transformative – not because of the music itself, but because the film frames his whiteness and intervention as essential to the success that non-dominant characters are largely dependent on. Although Dyer does not mention “white savior” narratives directly, his framework of whiteness as the unmarked norm supports how Back to the Future frames Marty’s interventions as natural, rather than intrusive.
[21] The film’s choice of racial sanitation and use of Mr. Sandman for the sake of its nostalgic lens makes Marty blend in easily in 1955 Hill Valley, because his whiteness is nearly invisible due to being the cultural and societal norm. However, he does change the future for the few Black people in town, even without the intention to go back in time in the first place. While looking for a telephone to call Doc Brown for help, Marty not only runs into his father, George McFly, but also encounters the man he would recognize from 1985 as the mayor. In 1955, the mayor is a white man named Red Thomas. Black political power is almost unthinkable until Marty unwittingly encourages Goldie Wilson while gazing at him and George.
[22] That’s not to say Marty’s whiteness is the catalyst for everything, because it has its limits. However, by encouraging George, another white character, his father gains character development that pays off on two heroic occasions when Marty is unable to intervene. Dyer argues that the invisibility of whiteness masks whiteness itself as a category, so while Marty’s interventions don’t come across as white-savior narratives on the surface, they’re naturally racialized in effect.
Videographic Essay
[23] Supplementing my analysis is a video – “Every Single Word Spoken and Sung by a Person of Color in Back to the Future.” My inspiration was Dylan Marron’s “Every Single Word” YouTube series. His videos isolate all the lines spoken by characters of color in a film. Using this same method, I chronologically compiled every line of dialogue spoken by the Black characters in Back to the Future, including the lyrics of Earth Angel. However, I found the Earth Angel scene much trickier to pick out, because the singing goes out of focus when Lorraine is almost stolen from George.
Clip 1: Every Single Word Spoken and Sung by a Person of Color in Back to the Future:
a Videographic Essay by Megan Petrozzo
[24] I also gathered the lines spoken by the Libyan terrorists from whom Doc Brown exchanged plutonium for a fake bomb, both from right before he gets shot and after Marty returns to 1985. Most of their English-language lines are limited to “Go!” and “Damn Soviet gun!” Other than that, they chatter in what might be stereotypical Arabic. The rest consists of unintelligible grunting, yelling, and screaming.
[25] In total, I gathered around three-and-a-half minutes of dialogue heard being spoken by characters of color, exposing the “colourless multi-colouredness” of whiteness masked under the sanitized nostalgic lens. Not counting shots where they appear onscreen but don’t speak, POC presence accounts for just 3% of the entire film. The other 97% especially reinforces 1955 Hill Valley’s normalization and invisibility of whiteness. Black voices are only heard for about two minutes and 58 seconds, over two-thirds of which are confined to the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.
[26] The Black characters may have very few lines compared to the Libyans, but those very few lines are at least intelligible. By contrast, the Libyans are given stereotyped, aggressive dialogue. In some ways, aligning with Dyer’s analysis, this marks them more. Doc Brown may be the one to rip them off, but they shoot him dead and chase after Marty, and the latter accidentally ends up in 1955 while outrunning them. The characters of color who are seemingly minor compared to Goldie Wilson, Marvin Berry, and the Starlighters set in motion the film’s chain of events.
[27] Even when Back to the Future was first released, this scene stirred controversy because Libya had been considered a terrorist nation in the 80s. The musical adaptation of Back to the Future, which first premiered in 2020, eliminates the Libyan terrorists entirely. I saw it on Broadway in 2023, and this was the change I noticed most. Instead, Doc Brown’s fate is plutonium radiation poisoning from inadequate protection. I usually favor when adaptations closely match their source material, so it initially caught me off guard, but it’s clear why they changed it.
[28] Marvin phoning Chuck Berry during Johnny B. Goode was also cut from the musical, due to the film’s alleged implication that Marty McFly, a white character, invented rock and roll. It wouldn’t be accurate to feed into that implication, particularly because while Johnny B. Goode wasn’t released in the real world until 1958, singles Maybellene and Thirty Days were out in 1955; hence why I’m using the term “innovated.” Surprisingly, neither the real Chuck Berry nor his son, Charles Berry Jr., nor anyone else in their family ever saw the scene as cultural appropriation. Unlike Chuck, however, his cousin Marvin is entirely fictional.
Dyer, Richard. 1988. “White.” Screen, Volume 29 (4): 44–65. https://doi.org/10.1093/screen/29.4.44