Opening Title Sequence: To Die For

When the opening title sequence begins for the Columbia Pictures film To Die For, we’re introduced to fictitious New England hamlet Little Hope, New Hampshire.  The small town had been enjoying a quiet Winter, complete with picaresque snow-laden church roofs framed by tall bare branches.  White-capped waves approach a lighthouse in a slow-motion fashion.  But, it’s when we arrive at the town cemetery that the normally quaint streets are about to be invaded by a swarm of headline-chasing tabloid reporters.

Man down

Aided by a whimsical music score by Danny Elfman, we get the first glimpse of Gus Van Sant’s acidic sense-of-humor as one member of a news team falls to the ground and perishes in the wake of competition for the brass ring that passes for journalism these days.   Only the strong, most ambitious (and intelligent) will survive, as the film’s conclusion will arrive full circle.  It’s a delicious bit of foreshadowing.  The excitement descends around the coffin of Larry Maretto (Matt Dillon), the recently murdered husband of aspiring morning show co-anchor Suzanne Maretto Stone.

She's ready for her close-up

Stone is beautiful, sexy, young, and isn’t afraid to show a lot of skin, or take a portrait with her Chihuahua Walter.  In the first shot of the “mourning” Stone, she’s surrounded by her parents, all dressed in black.  Her elders are unable to make sense of the media frenzy, but it’s all clear to Stone.  Stone’s moment has arrived, and this is the time for the widow to take the spotlight.  She’s well-acquainted with the phrase, “strike while the iron is hot”; her whole life has led up to this.  Only a few years later, the attention Monica Lewinsky would attract would make her drool.

Demand, meet supply

Title Designer Pablo Ferro’s sensationalist approach to the sequence gives the audience a taste of the salacious story that’s about to unfold not only for those watching, but also the citizens of Little Hope, who, up until now, have been kept in the dark, just as much as the rest of the nation.  The camera scans headlines from left to right and vice-verse of publications from The Little hope [sic] News, to New York Bulletin, and The National Investigator (“America’s Favorite Family Weekly”).  Through the varying speeds and font size of words, the introduction drops clues like “weather (girl),” “sex,” “motive,” “lingerie,” “did ‘it,’” “violence,” and quotations from kids including “lost my virginity.”  Having fun with the large print, one quote actually answers another, creating a comical conversation you wouldn’t find anywhere outside of satire (“My wife would kill me” –Larry; “She’d kill you?” –Jimmy).

From pictures to print ...

From top to bottom, words dissolve into themselves, and overlap into a jumble where everything is essentially the same, worthless and confusing mess.  No one organization is offering anything much different than another and what they are serving is negligible and only a superficial attempt to capitalize on a meaningless moment that will soon be forgotten by most.  Nothing of import is being learned here.  Garbage-in: garbage out.  As we get closer to the newspaper quality pixels of the fine print and pictures, their distinctive circles become bigger, more abstract, and higher contrast.  One page is superimposed on the next, as Ferro takes the audience to the microscopic level visually, before we get down to the back story at hand and the mechanics that brought it to life.

Previous Editions:
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo