The Perfect Opening Scene

While I personally believe that this is truly a matter of opinion, I have a feeling deep down in my bones that it'll spark a heated week long debate about why I'm wrong and why 'so-n-so' is right. But I don't care. Opinions are like... oh wait, I don't need to go there. I'm sure you know the quote.

Recently I was asked to share my Top 5 opening film sequences. Leave it to me to ask specifics:
"Opening film scenes, opening title sequences, or opening scene with titles?" Instead of choosing one, I was instructed to provide all three. That's just not happening, at least not today. But it got me thinking: what is my favorite opening scene in a film?

As much as I love a good title sequence like the next cine-file, I really started to rack my brain about what I thought was the perfect opening scene. Title sequences are easier to pick and sometimes the film that follows it isn't as good (sometimes). Either you like it, or you don't. And the farther we've moved into the 21st Century, the less title sequences are used. I'm not sure whether it has to do with our post-MTV generation and their lack of attention, but you just don't see them used as much today as you did twenty years ago.

While a title sequence provides the audience with setting the mood of the film or the style (while providing the names of the guilty parties involved in making it), an opening scene is one that needs to grab you from the start, or at least perfectly establish the story that the filmmakers are trying to tell. I say filmmakers because it takes more than just a director to tell the story. Anyone who has spent countless hours cutting and re-cutting, cutting and re-adjusting and re-cutting a film knows exactly what I'm talking about. (God bless the patience and endurance of the editor.)

While I could provide you with countless lists of film after film of fantastic opening scenes, I'm not going to (not here in this post, at least). My perfect opening scene is from Back to the Future. Now while I'd love to just post a link to a youtube video so you could watch it yourself, at this moment in time, that is not possible. So I will go through a selection of stills that I've taken the time to capture from my own personal DVD and walk you through the entire process.

This brilliantly executed opening scene (which from everything that I've been able to research online was not in any of the drafts of the screenplay) sets up our protagonists perfectly with giving the audience just the right amount of information, but also wanting more. The filmmakers properly used the exposition that they needed to convey without having any of the characters speak it.

Good film exposition has always been show, don't tell. If your lead character has to keep stating plot points in their dialog to make sure that the audience is following, then that is the first sign of poor writing (as well as poor filmmaking). Treat your audience like they have a brain and they will thank you for it later.

We first open with the film's title. There's nothing extremely special about this graphic, but right after it dissolves into black, the sound of ticking is slowly brought into the foreground of the audience's ears.

As we fade in, we see what has been ticking: clocks, and lots of them. Time is the obvious theme emphasized throughout the picture and our storyteller isn't shying away from that subject matter. The camera tracks right and begins a two and a half minute take.

While the camera tracks right, we come across dozens of clocks (maybe a hundred or more by the end of the scene). One of the more important clocks featured here is in the above frame: one made to the likes of silent film era great Harold Lloyd's and his picture Safety Last! where at one point in the film he hangs from the hands of a clock high above the street. A perfectly subtle homage to the past and the straightforward foreshadowing of Doc Brown's clock tower antics at this film's climax.

To add more mystery and intrigue to Dr. Emmett Brown's background, we're given a snippet of information regarding his family's estate. At some point Doc Brown's mansion is burned down, probably due to a risky experiment. But we're also aware that he's been able to probably keep his projects funded by selling his estate (or at least that's my assumption). For those who always wondered where it was that the Doc got his money to create such outlandish inventions, one only needs to watch the opening scene.

As the camera continues to track, it moves down revealing very small sleeping quarters for the Doc. Surrounding where he rests his head are prominent scientists Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison as well as inventor and patriot Benjamin Franklin. These are the men who motivate and inspire him. Also sitting on the bed is the camcorder, which is used later in the film to document the event.

The camera now moves left--still one continuous take, mind you--and we see one of the Doc's basic inventions: a coffeemaker installed with an automatic timer. Our first thought might be "Oops, he forgot to place the carafe on the burner. Is he even home?"

Just past the coffeemaker the television switches on by another contraption invented by Doc Brown. The TV warms up slowly, displaying a morning news broadcast, where we're given another crucial piece of information regarding the entire plot of the film:

"In other news, officials at the Pacific nuclear research facility have denied the rumor that a case of missing plutonium was, in fact, stolen from their vault two weeks ago. A Libyan terrorist group had claimed responsibility for the alleged theft. However, officials now attribute the discrepancy to a simple clerical error. The FBI, which is still investigating the matter, had no comment."

We continue to move left, discovering more ordinary kitchen appliances that have been "altered" to suite a welcoming wake-up call for Doc Brown. Here we see two pieces of toast severely burnt, meaning that the Doc hasn't been at his residence for at least a couple of days. The burnt toast animate on the screen briefly, wafting smoke rises above the toaster.

Now we hit pay dirt. Doc Brown really is quite the inventor. He's created a robotic arm that grabs a dispensed can of dog food, moves it to an another "altered" appliance where the can is opened, and then the contents of the can are released to a dog bowl.

Unfortunately, it looks like that's the fifth or sixth can that's been dumped into Eienstein's bowl without consumption. We definitely know now that no one is at home, and hasn' been for many days. This is also the first cut, almost 3 minutes into the opening scene. It's also disgusting.

Marty, our lead protagonist (who is apparently familiar enough with the residence by making
himself right at home; accessing the key from under the mat) enters. He calls for Doc, but no one answers.

After Marty's reaction to the disgustingly over-filled bowl of dog food, he continues to call for Doc or for his dog Einstein, while his skateboard has rolled under Doc's bed. It gently bumps into the missing case of plutonium.

Marty, however, doesn't care about much, other than to start turning dials and flipping switches on... something. We have no idea what he's doing, but whatever it is, they all must be reached at maximum capacity.

Several needles spike to their highest point, and we're still not sure exactly what it is that Marty is about to do. All we know, is that it will most likely be loud.

Now we've come to the realization that Marty is about to rock. And as if every dial turned to their farthest capability of output, he still has to turn the dial on his guitar to eleven as well.

As we begin to feel the fillings in our teeth rattle by the hum generated by the biggest damn amplifier known to man, Marty unreservedly stands in front of it, pick in hand.

His one (and only) strum sends him flying backwards to the end of the room, where books and debris cover him from head-to-toe after a book shelf falls upon his impact to the ground.

"Whoa... rock and roll" are the only words that express Marty's amazement that he's neither dead nor deaf after being blown across the room, destroying the amplifier. Here's where we realize that Marty could very well be just as careless as his supposed mentor and friend, Doc Brown.

Suddenly we hear the fire alarm, but what we soon discover is that it's hooked to the telephone line. As Marty answers the phone, it's the Doc. Marty is requested to meet him at 1:15 AM at the Twin Pines Mall before being rudely interrupted by a bunch of clocks that have all started to chime, displaying that it's eight o'clock in the morning:

Doc Brown: Are those my clocks I hear?
Marty McFly: Yeah! Uh, it's 8 o'clock!
Doc Brown: Perfect! My experiment worked! They're all exactly 25 minutes slow.
Marty McFly: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Doc... Are you telling me that it's 8:25?
Doc Brown: Precisely.
Marty McFly: Damn! I'm late for school!

The absurdity of the situation--let alone the experiment--gives the audience the idea that Doc Brown may be a few bricks shy of a full load. And once again, with time being the prevalent theme throughout this film, Marty is late for school.

Marty runs out of Doc Brown's residence, which we now realize is only a garage. The only piece of the parcel of land that wasn't sold to developers to help fund his inventions.

The scene ends with Marty "hitching" a ride from behind a pick-up truck down what we presume is John F. Kennedy Drive.

UPDATE: The full scene is now readily available on YouTube since 2012, so you can now watch the entire opening title sequence from beginning to end.