I posted this yesterday in the cinema forum and... well, I'll just let one of you good folk hazard a guess as to how many responses it got.
Take your time.
*goes and nukes a pot pie*comes back, steps in a ferret dooYeap, zero. Realizing that I maybe should have used --- or one of those goddamn Harry Potter flicks as an exhibit, I walk away from the forum with my eroded sense of style firmly tucked under my left arm, like a coroner carrying a decapitated head to a very nervous undertaker.
I'm talking here about style, pomp, charm, dynamism. I'm talking about the art of The Hook, which is achieved in movies typically through a well-planned and, most importantly, eye-catching opener. You know, the title sequence? And nobody had this more throughly understood and broken down than a guy named Pablo Ferro.
If you've seen
L.A. Confidential or
To Die For, then you've been exposed to his work. If however you do recognize the name, then you've probably seen his most famous craft, the introduction to
Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb which featured a font style that was so well-known that he reused it for both
The Addams Family and
Men in Black.
My favorite, however, are the opening credits to Peter Yates's
Bullitt. I don't think Ferro could have crammed more style and narrative panache onto those reels without... well, okay, I can't think of how he'd be able to do it, period. It's very mod-style, with all sorts of wide-angle showdowns and silhouettes, complimented by the creeping swagger of a lounge riff courtesy of Lilo Schifrin, who's current lack of output seems to add a defining footnote to the peristaltic condition of movies today.
Dodge This One, Baby.Aside: Dig the sweet '68 El Camino at around TC 2:36. A chariot fit for Zeus (I know this guy named Zeus, absolute trailer merkin with a neck as red as Dracula's toilet, he has. Sports a mullet fit for a king... of ********.)