Opening Title Sequence: Devil in a Blue Dress

Conversations regarding creating the opening title sequence for Devil in a Blue Dress included many different ideas; someone suggested to embellish the film noir aspect of the genre. Director Carl Franklin wanted to try something less conventional and capture a feel for the times. WPA artist Archibald John Motley, Jr's "Bronzeville at Night" (1949) did exactly that. While the oil painting depicted a Chicago street scene, the filmmakers thought it could sub in for Los Angeles. Cinematographer Tak Fujimoto used his keen eye to languidly canvass the period slice of night life and thought it would be cool to end the sequence on, well, a girl in a blue dress. Or, er, well, a pantsuit, but notice how there's another woman at the bottom center of the forefront wearing a blue dress who seems to have lost something, while getting shown up by a hussy in red right behind her.

The song “Westside Baby” provided the 2 1/2 minute soundtrack. Musician Aaron T-Bone Walker worked various clubs on Central Avenue of Los Angeles where most of this film took place and recorded the song on Black & White Records in 1948. Its mellowness contrasts the "shout and jump" music that made him a huge star of that decade. A precursor to rock and roll stars of the 1950s, Walker would throw his guitar on his back and do the splits, while girls threw their underwear at him. Relaxed, understated, it's an enjoyable appetizer to this 90s neo-noir flic. Franklin has also directed such diverse projects as One False Move and One True Thing. The former helped make Billy Bob Thornton a known entity in Hollywood before he made his breakout Slingblade, the latter got Meryl Streep one of her many Oscar nominations in the 1990s.

Archibald Motley's "Bronzeville at Night"

Previous Editions:

Devil in a Blue Dress

Working Girl

The Addams Family

Beetlejuice

The Birdcage

My Best Friend's Wedding

To Die For

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

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Opening Title Sequence: Working Girl

Carly Simon’s gospel-themed “Let the River Run” (Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” came out only months later) kicks off an early New York morning.  Michael Ballhaus' helicopter shot swoops around the Statue of Liberty after dawn starting with her face and arm in a counter clockwise motion while pulling out in a spiraling fashion to reveal the multitude of neighborhoods encircling Gotham in the background, including New Jersey, and boroughs Staten Island and Brooklyn.  We leave the image of her Liberty from the perspective of watching the soft morning sky spread the light throughout the cavernous streets of the already bustling city.  

The focus is then square on the Staten Island Ferry headed for the southern port of Manhattan and begins to zoom in from the back with the full view of the World Trade Center lording over the southern end of the iconic skyline.  The camera speeds along the vessel port into a dissolve that simultaneously moves inside to the front of the ferry catching various passengers in temporary early pre-work stasis, slowing down to where our heroine Tess McGill (Melanie Griffith) sits with her back to the city, unaware of that day’s pivotal nature.  Her best friend Cyn (Joan Cusack) makes a tiny celebration out of her birthday, both of them with their semi-unironic high Jersey hairstyles, as a gum-chewing stranger fondly watches them nearby.  “Did you make a wish?” inquires Cyn.  “Yeah,” Tess muses, in a look that can be described as cautious optimism.  She knows big things lie ahead, because she’s talented and ambitious enough.  But, she’s no longer the wide-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who was convinced she could conquer the world.  The years aren’t getting easier, life is getting more relentless, and it’s getting hard to believe her break will ever come. 

Kind of reminiscent of
Every Thing You Always Wanted to Know About Sex*

"Did you make a wish?" ... "Yeah."

The next shot is of the ferry approaching dock, and then another of the throng of people disembarking.  (Prediction: one of these days someone who appreciates Mike Nichols will make a film and recreate this shot digitally once the new towers are finished.)  I watched this movie countless times as a kid and imagined myself as a corporate titan mopping the competition up on the streets of Manhattan (well, not really, more like just me sitting with my legs up on a desk on some ridiculously high floor).  I never ended up moving to the city, as I’ve been a West Coast boy at heart and have been unofficially in the process of living in all its major cities.  

The background actor on the left's hot-dog
has a first-name and it's O-S-C-A-R

The subject of plans and their accents come up.  "No lunch, I got speech class."  "What do you need speech class for, you talk fine ... Alright.  I'll pick you up at five.  We'll ride back together."  "I can't.  I got a merging market seminar at five-thirty."  "Geez, it's your birthday, can't they merge without you just this once?"  Tess asks about her surprise party and Cyn relunctantly relents information.  She playfully knocks into Cyn and they have a little shoulder bumping match as they walk out of frame.  Tess arrives in her office as the music fades out and she answers a call.

Full Disclosure: This inspirational Simon song can make me sob like a clown.


*But Were Afraid to Ask


Previous Editions:
Devil in a Blue Dress
Working Girl
The Addams Family
Beetlejuice
The Birdcage
My Best Friend's Wedding
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 

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Opening Title Sequence: The Addams Family

There isn’t a lot to be said about the opening title sequence of The Addams Family (1991), especially after its one-joke wonder is finished.  But, boy, what a delicious wonder it is.  It’s Christmas time at a cemetery near you.  A short audio clip of "Carol of the Bells" gives way to "Deck the Halls.  Fade into the camera tipping down ever so slightly to the faces of carolers joyfully sharing the spirit of the season at the doorstep of the Addams’ mansion, facing outwards to the neighborhood.  The camera pans the gay apparel of the dozen or so happy campers before curving its way upwards, where, along the way, we glimpse the wickedly burnt wreaths adorning the Addams' entrance.

Portrait of a loving family

After a dissolve before we arrive at the roof, the unconventional and morbid title clan gleefully wait for the perfect moment to dump a huge cauldron of boiling oil on the unsuspecting choir.  Wednesday (Christina Ricci) and her brother Pugsley (Jimmy Workman) watch patiently, as the excited Gomez (the late, great Raul Julia) kisses his wife Morticia's (cinema legend Angelica Huston) hand.  The immediately identifiable theme kicks in, and Grandmama (Judith Malina) and Lurch (Carel Struycken) begin to giddily tilt the bubbling cauldron forward to a 90-degree angle where Pablo Ferro's title credits continue emerging from within.  No screams are heard, but the mayhem that follows is implied ... Marc Shaiman’s lush and upbeat score plays over plumes wafting across the frame behind the names of cast and crew.

Previous Editions:
Working Girl
Devil in a Blue Dress
The Addams Family
Beetlejuice
The Birdcage
My Best Friend's Wedding
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 

This still makes me laugh for maybe
more than one reason.  Clue: think irony.

One of the women in this panned shot reassembled via my rough Photoshop skills (possibly the brunette fourth from left or second/third from right) is Diane Burt, daughter of famous carol writer Alfred Burt

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Opening Credit Sequence: Beetlejuice

The title sequence for Beetlejuice opens with Danny Elfman’s ominous sampling of "The Banana Boat Song" echoing shades of Oingo Boingo to kick off his original score (and one of his most memorable) that drives the aerial shot over what seems to be the New England hamlet of East Corinth, Vermont.  Starting over thick verdant forest, we then swing past the small town before a dissolve that results in a closer shot reset only a little ways back from where the last one left off.  The camera flies over the town statue and church twice; as well, you may note that the milk truck is parked in a different spot.  You may also note that very truck, as well as the headstones in the cemetery, seem, well, slightly unreal, as what we're watching isn't East Corinth, but a scaled down version.    

There is a second dissolve that segues into the miniature version of the town designed by Adam Maitland (Alex Baldwin), a young man in a happy relationship with everything going well for him—that is, until a fatal trip to the hardware store that day.  The crown jewel of the village set is the tiny model of the couple’s home atop a hill.  At the end of the credits,  Adam reaches his hand into the frame and breaks the illusion to collect the tarantula creeping over from the back of the roof exposing the faux nature of the endeavor to those who weren’t paying too close attention. 

First dissolve after Michael Keaton's credit

Second dissolve

Illusion broken

It may have taken a team of six to design the mini-set, although it isn’t quite clear.  Allan Johnson, who started off as a carpenter in the business, provided the topographical landscape (he was also nautical dialogue coach on Davis’ Cutthroat Island!).   Model maker Tom Gleason now works first assistant camera.  Steve Koch started off as a prop master and has since worked in prosthetics and as a puppeteer.  Currently, he’s a digital effects sculptor, designer.  The miniature production may also have included James Belohovek, Thomas Conti, and Rick Kess.


Previous Editions:
Beetlejuice
The Birdcage
My Best Friend's Wedding
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 

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Opening Title Sequence: The Birdcage

Based on the French play/film La Cage aux Folles, The Birdcage was a huge hit in 1996.  (I also awkwardly utilized it as an entertaining "tool" (!) to come out to my parents.)  While it was a broad comedy that served up a bunch of yucks (and made a star out of Nathan Lane), it was also one of the first successful mainstream movies to deal with gay lead characters.  It also was one of the most popular, and arguable remains so, pieces of pop culture to stand for marriage equality and suggest that products of gay parents are essentially no different than those of straights.  The title credit sequence is quite memorable and ambitious, as it stands as another impressive example of director Mike Nichols' penchant for long, continuous opening shots when it's actually three separate pieces of footage inconspicuously strung together by the talents of Oscar-nominated DP Emmanuel Lubezki and Academy Award winning film editor Arthur Schmidt.  (While it was easy to figure out just where the first transition occurs, the segue of which is seamless, it's even more undetectable to the eye to note the second change.)

A remix of Sister Sledge's widely recognized 1970s hit "We Are Family" begins to play over the United Artists logo before the camera begins with an aerial shot speeding over the Pacific Ocean towards the Art Deco District of South Beach lit in various shades of neon.  Gliding across the beach and a sliver of grass, the speed slows down.  You might notice a shift (of some sort) around the credit for Christine Baranski.  

The helicopter speed begins to slow down

The lens lifts just a little

The camera tips down slightly

The focus centers on the Carlyle Hotel (designed by the firm Kiehel and Elliott), but, for the film's purposes, is renamed as cabaret and dance club The Birdcage.  The dissolve from the first to second shot is right after the "with Calista Flockhart, Tom McGowan" credit disappear.  If you're interested in picking out the moment, just find a person and/or car to concentrate on around that time and keep hitting and releasing the pause button.  It's kind of cool how well they did matching the shots considering the circumstances (the first and second shot were filmed a few weeks apart, logistics, timing, etc).  

The first transition

In the second shot (the one that was filmed last), a crane lowers the Steadicam operator as he begins to wade through party goers and tanned women with their breasts popping out of their bathing suits, while cars inch their way through nighttime traffic on Ocean Drive.

The Steadicam operator's feet have hit the ground

The second "transition" before the cameraman steps
onto the curb appears to involve a green screen
behind the clear club doors

Now, I could be mistaken (and correct me if I'm wrong), but I believe the third shot (filmed six weeks before the first) is actually green-screened into the second shot (or vice-verse if I'm using the terminology incorrectly).  If you watch closely, about 40% of the way through the "costumes designed by Ann Roth" credit, focus your eyes on the inside of the club on the right in the vicinity of the reservation desk.  Before it becomes clear of what you're seeing, there is some ambiguous glare taking up the entire right of what we can see inside.  Suddenly, on the right, as if by magic, there's a woman helping guests at the reservation desk and, on the left, what will be the curtains leading to the stage.  While it may have been glare from the lights and bustle of the street that hid the activity, that theory doesn't seem to hold up to the naked eye.  As the cameraman continues toward the club, the only common denominator between the second and third shot is a couple (filmed weeks apart).  The man wears a white paisley shirt and the woman a sequined party dress.  They briefly walk across the camera from left to right as they enter the club and then disappear.

The couple on the left in the second shot

The couple on the left walking past
the green screen of the third shot (?)

The cameraman walks through some curtains which reveal a stage of multicultural drag queens lip-syncing to the opening track.  A keen eye will notice that all of the solos are performed by minorities.  Discrimination!  Just kidding.  But, yeah, all the whities are backup talent for this portion of the number.  Their outfits are plenty pleated and colorful, and their makeup pretty solid.  The camera makes its way through the crowd to the stage-left wing where the visual sequence ends mid-song with stage manager Cyril (James Lally) frantically trying to get the temperamental star performer Albert Goldman aka Starina (Nathan Lane) onstage, before we continue on with the drag performance of "We Are Family."

Pretty cool, huh?  

[Source: EW]

Previous Editions:
Working Girl
Devil in a Blue Dress
The Addams Family
Beetlejuice
The Birdcage
My Best Friend's Wedding
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 

Two Solos Alert: Somebody knows how to kick 
five bitches out of the spotlight!  And she's wearing orange.

Asian Angela Bassett
(Waiting to Exhale came out months before this opened)

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Opening Title Sequence: My Best Friend's Wedding

In 1997, Julia Roberts returned to her bread and butter after three years of underperforming at the box-office and found a massive hit (that was also well-received by audiences and critics alike) in the romantic comedy My Best Friend’s Wedding.  This was a make-or-break film for Roberts, who hadn't enjoyed repeat success on her name alone since Sleeping with the Enemy in 1991 (The Pelican Brief, while written with her in mind, was from then-hot author John Grisham).  She didn't even get her name above the title all by herself in the opening credits (gasp!), an anomalistic set-piece that creates the tone for the “villainainous” antics of Julianne “Jewels” Potter.  Not only does it boast the choreography of Toni Basil (the 1980s pop cheerleader anthem "Mickey"), but the unprecedented vocals of Ani DiFranco.  Yeah, Ani DiFranco.  

In the most orgasmic, come-hither vocals she can muster, edgy true-indie rocker DiFranco covers “Wishin’ and Hopin,” a Hal David/Burt Bacharach song made popular by Dusty Springfield in 1964.  As she sings, one “bride” (played by Raci Alexander) and her three “bridesmaids” (Jennifer Garrett, Kelly Sheerin, Bree Turner) lip-synch to the easy-listening hit while daydreaming of how great it would be to be married.  Just so there is no confusion, the bride is blonde and the brunette bridesmaids wear either Easter green or pink dresses.  Their feigned mindsets, as well the brunettes’ hairstyles wrapped up in buns, are very traditional, as they go through the motions of engagement and preparing for the wedding, including pulling up the garter, the bouquet toss, and the bridal walk.

Now, the lyrics can be read as a carpe diem song where nothing is achieved by inaction, or the more cynical, unintentionally misogynistic suggestion that in order to achieve love, you must submit to the man (you desire) and put out any old way he wants (“Just do it / And after you do, you will be his.”)  One of the cowriters Burt Bacharach is a straight male, who married four times, so you do the math.  Surely, the innocent and light music promise no harm.  Along with a bass and tambourine, the update includes a kazoo.  This mini-music video, however, in all of it ironic glory, actually leads one to ponder if the song was originally subversive?

Basil uses the song’s time-warped lyrics to provide ideas for the actresses to play out, exhausting the possibilities, and reaching beyond including reenacting the three wise monkeys (hear, see, speak no evil), the bride biting her glove in ecstasy, and a fun little fainting spell she fakes, before winking after being caught by her ladies in waiting.  As she shows off her ring (it sparkles), a close-up catches one of the bridesmaids admiring it with hungry awe.  In the first long shot, we get the women dancing, sashaying, and whipping around the veil that now flies around prostrate to the women’s mockery of the institution, ending up like a tail on a bunny. 

The bridal walk offers a simple shot that captures the most movement and use of space, as the camera starts with a closeup of the bride with her exposed shoulders.  As the lens pulls out, the bridesmaids pop up from behind her and begin rolling out her veil and tossing it up in glee when they reach the end of the train.  The camera remains still as the women take their position and commence with the procession, with the bride in the foreground

In one of the most seminal moments of a wedding day, the bride catches the very bouquet she tossed.  As one last cheeky warning to little girls who still want to place all of their eggs in one basket: be careful of what ye wish for.  1) It may never come or 2) not garner the kind of man you’d want to spend the rest of your life with.  A bird’s eye shot ends with bouquets hiding the women’s faces, as well as their identities.  In one last customary moment, the bridesmaids adorn the bride in pearls, veil, and flowers, before taking a position at her feet on their knees, reverently holding their bouquets upwards.  The sequence ends with a spotlight descending down approvingly on the white-veiled face of the bride to be, complete with final deep, vibrating notes provided by a church organ.

Filmed on simple set of pink, it’s debatable just exactly what shades were used for the background and floor.  However, it’s tempting to write them off as “blush and bashful,” Shelby’s (as played by Julia Roberts) colors from Steel Magnolias years before.  Christine Altomari supervised the production.  Title Designer Wenden K. Baldwin now works in visual effects.  

Previous Editions:
My Best Friend's Wedding
To Die For
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 

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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 

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