Kentish Express Ashford & District - What's On
NEVER ‘skip Intros’
Last week I wrote about the petty way the Cannes Film Festival has treated films made by the streaming service Netflix. I also said that Netflix’s behaviour doesn’t always help, and that I’d elaborate more on that this week. It’s this week now, so here we go…
Some people don’t mind turning up to the cinema late and missing the first few minutes. These people are animals. But the fact is, they exist. Personally, if I’ve gone into a screening and the film has already started, I go and get my ticket changed to a later time. You don’t know what you’ve missed, do you? Maybe the very last line of the film only makes sense if you paid attention to the very first line. Perhaps there was a minor character in the first five minutes who ends up being absolutely vital. And, most importantly, what if the opening credits are super, super cool. And, this is where Netflix comes in.
In some markets Netflix has rolled out a feature that gives viewers the option to skip the title sequence of some movies. When you press play, a small box labeled “skip intro” will pop up in the bottom right-hand corner. And although you’re don’t have to skip the credits, it’s something a lot of people will do. Netflix began offering this feature for episodes of TV shows back in March and nobody really cared. If you’re steaming through all eight series of Benidorm, skipping over the opening titles will be welcomed. In fact, on a lot of TV series, skipping the beginning isn’t even an option; it just does it.
But film should be given more reverence than ITV comedies. So Netflix’s decision has infuriated groups who already have the impression that the company doesn’t actually care all that much about movies.
This is going to sound melodramatic, but just go with it: when we lose title sequences, we lose art. Title sequences, when done well, are artworks in themselves.
There’s Vertigo’s iconic swirling commentary on voyeurism, famously created by Saul Bass, and the (superior, in my view) Bass-inspired opening titles to Catch Me If You Can.
In fact, in the Netflix age of infinite streaming, where viewers aren’t as open to giving a movie a chance because they haven’t just handed over £4 to rent it for one night, opening titles are more important to directors than ever. The starting sequence is their headline; their opportunity to really grab the viewer’s attention.
Look at the titles to Seven, which set the tone for the rest of the movie. The fractured images, brutal crime-scene photos, words scratched into the film itself, set to the sound of Nine Inch Nails. You watch them and you might not know exactly what’s going to come, but you sure as hell know how it’s going to feel.
Title sequences can also be culturally and historically significant.
And then there’s Bond. It’s not just the gun barrel sequence, but the whole Bond theme and opening credits. Indeed, some of the worst Bond films are memorable only because of the experimental opening titles. If you turn up to the cinema late, or you press the “skip intro” button, you’re depriving yourself of brilliant work from people like Robert Brownjohn and Daniel Kleinman.
So back to Netflix.
A true movie lover would never encourage someone to arrive late at the cinema because “it’s only the first five minutes”, and a company that claims to love film should not advocate skipping past frames that have been toiled over and are often more than just a list of executive-producers, gaffers and caterers.
As far as Netflix should be concerned, the credits ‘are’ the movie.
‘This is going to sound melodramatic, but just go with it: when we lose title sequences, we lose art. Title sequences, when done well, are artworks in themselves.’