THE GREATEST OPENING SEQUENCE IN FILM HISTORY, EVER
An examination of two minutes of genius
By Mary Buhl
From Where? |
Out of all of the scenes in a feature film none is more important than the opening. These first moments are crucial. Its job is to capture the viewer's interest, and give a solid sense of the who, what, when, where, and why of everything that follows. Though many films have grand beginnings no film manages the first two minutes with the flair and grace of Robert Zemeckis’ 1985 hit, Back to the Future, starring the then hot as a comet tv star, Michael J Fox.
The film has become a staple in American pop culture. This is for good reason. A perfect blend of adventure and comedy, the film is both fantastical and easily accessible. It also boasts a masterful use of visual storytelling and a nearly perfect opening scene, maybe the most perfect. It introduces the main characters without ever showing them on screen, gives a solid idea of the tone, and from the get-go sets up some of the film’s main issues. Zemeckis does this in just a handful of shots. In fact the visual storytelling is so clear there would be very little lost if the scene was viewed without sound, which you can try here. It captures the viewers attention and leaves them with a solid sense of the world they’re about to enter and just enough questions to keep them wanting more.
Silent Film Genius |
The movie opens with, what else would you want for a film about time travel, clocks. Even without knowing the title it’s almost cartoonishly evident that the film has something to do with time. The camera pans over clocks of all kinds for a full 30 seconds, including one that references Harold Lloyd’s (1923) film Safety Last and foreshadows the climax of the film. That particular clock is fun for second-time watchers.
We then view some framed newspaper clippings. “Brown Mansion Destroyed” and “Brown Estate Sold to Developers.” While it’s a good rule of thumb to not make viewers read (it’s a move-y not a read-y after all) this is a crucial piece of information. Someone really cares about the Brown Estate and by implication so should we.
The camera then tilts revealing several framed photographs. Photos of Einstein, Edison, and Franklin hang on the wall. Three pop science icons well known to the general public. It is evident that the owner of this space is interested in science and invention. The inclusion of not one, not two, but three famous scientists makes them impossible to miss. If somehow a viewer were to miss this fact, later on in the scene Zemeckis will reiterate it in an ever-clearer manner. He wants us to get it.
Could plutonium be of interest here? |
Information and action then starts coming fast. A radio, a coffee maker, and a TV turn on automatically. The radio plays an ad for an October car sale giving us a general time frame for the film — important. The coffee maker spills coffee but there’s no pot there to catch it — someone is either missing or quite forgetful. A tv newscaster talks about stolen plutonium as a neon yellow graphic on screens reads “Plutonium Theft?” — important and high stakes. The amount of time spent on the newscast leads viewers to wonder about whether our sciencey friend might have something to do with the plutonium theft.
That question is put on hold however as we pan to see an automatic toaster popping up two seriously burnt pieces of toast. Who knows how long this toast has been toasting and popping up over and over again. The camera pans over some generic sciencey looking metal, wires, and gears till we get to the dog food machine. Yes, it’s one of those time saving dream gadgets that never quite work. We see the machine open the cap and plop some food into the already overflowing bowl with the name “Einstein” on it. Just in case anyone missed it the first time with the pictures, Zemeckis gives us a big hint again: whoever is missing is obviously at the very least a science nerd. And if they made that contraption: at least mechanical, if not handy.
This is where the first half of the scene ends. We already know a lot about one of our protagonists without him actually showing up on screen. Doc Brown is a scientist and inventor. He’s eccentric and has a scatterbrained genius thing going on. He’s also missing and has been for some time.
A pretty good invention for the time |
This is where we meet our second and main protagonist, Marty Mcfly. The camera pans to the door as it opens. The first thing we see of Marty are his sneakers and skateboard, giving the impression that he’s young and maybe a bit of a punk. We also get a hint into the kind of relationship he has with Doc Brown. He obviously knows him well enough to know where the spare key is. He’s also comfortable enough to invite himself in without asking. However, he’s obviously not a member of the household, as he’d have his own key.
He kicks his skateboard off to the side, the camera follows the board as it rolls under a table and stops by a box. The box is the same bright yellow as the news graphic and reads, “Plutonium handle with care”. So here are the questions that the intro teases. Where is Doc Brown? Is he on the lamb? Caught by the cops? Died of over exposure to nuclear material? Is anyone paying any attention to the plutonium? The boy on the skateboard? And are we running out of time? That’s the funny question the ask at the beginning of a film.
That's a lot of energy |
Zemeckis only gives us hints and doesn’t dwell on any of it as Marty makes himself at home. He flips switches, turns knobs, and fiddles with some dire looking equipment. Turning them all up as high as they’ll go, the camera zooms out and we realize it’s a giant speaker connected to a teeny weeny guitar. A single strum sends him flying across the room into a pile of junk. Giving us our first laugh of the film and setting up the film’s tone as lighthearted.
It’s the best opening scene of all time.
©Mary Buhl and the CCA Arts Review
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