Novelty title sequences and self-reflexivity in classical Hollywood cinema
Deborah Allison
There were things that could be done with film, it was crazy not to do them.
title designer Wayne Fitzgerald [1]
In 1976 Saul Bass designed the opening title sequence for That’s Entertainment Part II (Gene Kelly) and in doing so created a piece of film that was about titles sequences, as well as being one itself. The film’s compilation format of classic clips from Hollywood musicals inspired him to emulate a wide-ranging series of titles from the classical period and, in particular, the 1930s. The result is a joyous celebration of a range of titling styles designed to entertain in their own right, sometimes imitating existing sequences, and sometimes inspired by what Bass calls the “mythic memory” of sequences that could or should have been.[2]
This sequence highlights two important issues. In its pastiche of title sequences from the 1930s it shows some of the sorts of novelty sequences produced at that time. It is historically important to remember that such sequences existed since many of the journalistic articles written about film titles in recent years present an inaccurate picture proposing that film titling was universally dull and conservative until 1954 when the form was revolutionised by Bass in his design for Otto Preminger’s Carmen Jones. Typical of such articles is David Thomson’s which claims that, “For decades before the 1950s, movie credits had meekly followed whatever standard treatment prevailed at every studio The music over the credits sometimes had the mood of the picture to come, but the graphics themselves were classical lettering on a bland background.”[3] As I will show, the history of title sequences is far more lively and varied than this.
The second issue relates to what is often perceived as a key purpose of title design, namely finding ways to prepare the viewer for the experience of watching the coming film. In That’s Entertainment Part II, pleasure and function are seamlessly blended in a sequence that names the film, credits the cast, hints at what will follow and sets an appropriate tone, as well as providing a stylistic history lesson. David Geffner has argued that title sequences “form a kind of contract, outlining the filmmaker’s intentions and, for better or worse, setting up expectations that the audience, almost subliminally, will demand to be met.”[4] This attitude can be discerned in the design of many sequences described in this article, but I will also show that in other sequences the importance of this function is displaced by other features. Indeed, the common factor of the sequences featured here is a flamboyant exhibitionism that revels in its own cleverness. In this respect, these sequences differ considerably from the attitudes to film titling that later rose to domination.
