Back to the Future: Time, Decision, and the Sound of Possibility

This week we’re taking a little de-tour for personal and logistical reasons…I’m so sorry, dear friends — truth is, I won’t make it to the movies until tomorrow. But hear me out: the film I have on my list premieres this week! So maybe it’s for the best, because I’d probably end up spoiling you all — and that episode is going to be sooooo good. The soundtrack came out just a week ago and… oh my god.

Anyway, stay tuned — I’m sure some of you already have a guess.But since this week there won’t be a “new release” episode, let’s make a small detour.

I was reading your suggestions (thank you for those!), and honestly, one of you basically read my mind.Because I’ve been wanting to talk about this character — and especially, about this movie.I’m talking about Back to the Future.

In Mexico we call it Volver al Futuro — I’m not sure if it’s the same in Spain, because honestly, you guys have some wild dubbing choices sometimes, hahaha — but anyway, Back to the Future, composed by Alan Silvestri.

Why This Soundtrack

Why did I choose this one?Well, because every soundtrack I pick outside the “now showing” category is somehow emotionally linked to me — even though I like to think they’re good on their own, too.

Come on, who could possibly say this saga isn’t good?Let’s talk about that.

In general, Back to the Future is such a cultural landmark that I’d even call it world heritage.

So let’s see why.

Time as a Musical Surface

Time — of course, it’s the core narrative axis of everything.But beyond that, it’s also the perfect example of music’s power.

Why? Because the surface of music is time itself.Through it, we experience possibility — the structure of decision — the materialization of “maybe.” That’s right: music wields the possibility of time.

In Back to the Future, Silvestri’s score sustains and architects atmospheres that feel “timeless,” yet preserve the fleeting brilliance — the magnitude that fits inside a single second. Here, music designs a perception of time’s potential — that spark of agency inside each of us, the tension of decision, and the fragility of human trajectories.It’s a rush of thousands of possibilities in a second — and the concatenation of what comes after.

As I’ve said before, music is time — and with that, it’s also bifurcation.Here, time is accelerated, but it’s also a mystery.

This soundtrack carries a kind of heroism, just like last week’s episode — but with a different tone.That’s fascinating to me, because both share an intention but vary in nuance:while last week’s music leaned on electrified brass and weighty sounds, this one moves through sensations of speed and much sharper percussion.

Human Heroism and Decision

The music here encapsulates a human heroism — in the sense that decision itself is what makes the hero. That’s why, at the most decisive or significant moments in the story, you hear sounds and motifs that mark that instant as the right (and only) one for action.Or, conversely, as the aftermath of a decision that will redefine time’s path.

Time and the bifurcations of its navigation are crucial — and here, music frames them, times them, and highlights the value of crossing them.It underscores the sensation of heroism born from agency — the sketch of boundaries that define us, the design of the decision maps that shape and guide us.

After all, every decision we make configures our angles of vision, our judgments, perceptions, opportunities, and the filters through which we inhabit the world.

The Sound of Thought

How does an idea sound in this saga?

Every time Doc thinks of something beyond the margins, it flashes —it feels almost like an epiphany, because of the instruments that accompany it.They’re barely sounding, like percussive flickers drawing illusions that appear, grow, burst into brilliance — or fade into time.

The music invites us to get intrigued, to get hooked on the uncertainty that decision brings — and at the same time, to value that fragility.

Time isn’t a fixed trajectory — it’s a question.A question that can explode in magnificence, or dissolve in discretion.

And every bifurcation — every real decision — sounds.

And if it doesn’t sound…maybe it never was one.

Original Version