The opening credits of Grease are a striking example of the perfect synergy between animated sequences and the soundtrack: the song that gives the film its title was composed by Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees (who had previously composed the music for John Travolta’s earlier hit, Saturday Night Fever) and performed by Frankie Valli of the Four Seasons. It is no coincidence that Valli and his group were at the height of their success in the early 1960s, and Grease indeed captures the atmosphere of the 1950s - a decade that, just two decades later, was already being revisited as legendary, with a nostalgic tone that glossed over the far from idyllic reality of that era ... This hilarious animated sequence draws on a whole series of elements that have now become part of the popular imagination - and which are hard to catch in their rapid succession: from hair “gel” to the hula hoop, from the slogan “I like Ike”- used by Eisenhower in his presidential campaigns - to images of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean, from posters for B-movies like She Gods of Shark Reef and blockbusters like The Ten Commandments to commercials for Firestone tires and Pepsi-Cola … and much, much more.

Just as in Grease the credits are often framed within advertising posters and thus set in an urban context, in My Uncle, too, they are presented as text on construction site signs: but in this case, the setting is realistic, with the images and sounds associated with this particular place, and the film’s original title (Mon oncle) written in chalk on a crumbling wall, amid wagging stray dogs ... just a preview of the lighthearted tone of this comedy, which straddles the line between the grotesque and the surreal, where colors, sounds, music, lighting, and the characters’ movements bring to life a comedy that pokes fun at many of the era’s values - from “mechanical” efficiency to “modernist” architecture to emerging consumerism ...

Nothing could be further from My Uncle than the opening credits of Raging Bull, which in just a few moments introduce the career - but above all, the dramatic life story - of boxer Jake LaMotta. The twilight tone and rarefied atmosphere of this sequence - in which the boxer, played by Robert De Niro, moves in slow motion in the ring -is underscored by the slow orchestral piece, the “Intermezzo” from Pietro Mascagni’s opera Cavalleria Rusticana, which also serves as a reference to the protagonist’s Italian origins.

Torniamo ad una coloratissima e divertente sequenza animata per i titoli di testa di Questo pazzo, pazzo, pazzo, pazzo mondo, che già nella reiterazione del titolo suggerisce il tono scanzonato e scatenato di questa commedia, tutta centrata sulle vicende di un gruppo di persone, casualmente coinvolte nella ricerca di un tesoro e sempre più nevroticamente portate ad inseguirsi per arrivare primi alla meta. Riprendendo le classiche tecniche delle comiche del cinema muto, il film offre nel contempo una galleria di mostruosità umane che troveranno nell'ironico finale un tocco di esilarante sovversione. Questa lunga sequenza (firmata da Saul Bass), che anticipa con ironia e leggerezza alcune delle scene del film, poteva risultare particolarmente efficace e coinvolgente se vista su grande schermo, approfittando del formato panoramico (Cinerama) con cui il film era stato girato (e la cui magia inevitabilmente si perde se vista su uno schermo più piccolo, o addrittura sullo schermo TV).

Let’s return to a colorful and entertaining animated sequence for the opening credits of It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world, which, even in the repetition of the title, hints at the lighthearted and wild tone of this comedy - centered entirely on the adventures of a group of people who are accidentally drawn into a treasure hunt and become increasingly neurotically driven to chase one another in order to reach the finish line first. Drawing on classic silent-film comedy techniques, the film simultaneously presents a gallery of human monstrosities that find a touch of hilarious subversion in the ironic finale. This lengthy sequence (designed by Saul Bass), which previews some of the film’s scenes with irony and lightheartedness, could have been particularly effective and engaging when viewed on the big screen, taking full advantage of the panoramic (Cinerama) format in which the film was shot (and whose magic is inevitably lost when viewed on a smaller screen, such a TV screen).

The twilight atmosphere of the opening credits of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is masterfully captured by the fake archival footage projected like a silent film on the left side of the screen, accompanied by Burt Bacharach’s syncopated music. These clips - so fake and yet so evocative - set the film’s ultimately nostalgic (albeit tragicomic) tone, portraying two outlaws “past their prime” (played by two legends, Robert Redford and Paul Newman, who were never more in sync). Their daring and ultimately tragic fate makes them symbols of the youthful rebellion typical of the 1960s - doomed to fail just like these two naive heroes of an ironically revisited Wild West, unable to fit into a world that has changed beyond hope.

Once again, Saul Bass designed the opening credits for Anatomy of a Murder, a tense courtroom drama based on an ambiguous murder case, where truth and reality never coincide and are, in fact, destined to remain intertwined until the very end. This animated sequence captures the film’s tone by presenting, right from the start, the silhouette of a dismembered body, whose “pieces” continuously appear and disappear on screen without ever coming back together, symbolizing the elusiveness of human affairs. The (multi-award-winning) soundtrack, composed by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn, adds to the unsettling effect of the images.

The subtitle of the Italian version of this film reads: "A “normal” family of superheroes". And indeed, this first digital “comic” from Pixar - featuring human characters - depicts a seemingly “normal” family, but one that is actually made up of a dad, a mom, and three kids who possess superhuman powers, which they will be called upon to use to save not only themselves but also their city. The opening credits foreshadow the extraordinary, almost abstract sets, created using sophisticated technology. It is not just family entertainment, but also, on a deeper level, a satirical reflection on today’s America - a highly complex world that navigates between the classic, seemingly calm and peaceful Hollywood comedy and the adventures (but also the threats) of a technological world dominated by appearances and the superficiality of new media.

And it was Saul Bass who designed the opening credits for The Seven Year Itch, too, where the screen fills with geometric shapes (squares, rectangles) of various colours that move, open, and close to reveal the opening titles, in sync with the rhythmic musical score that evokes the lively unfolding of events making up the plot of this world-famous comedy, featuring Marilyn Monroe’s unforgettable performance.

Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece adapts Vladimir Nabokov’s novel of the same name for the screen, focusing on the amorous obsession of a middle-aged professor (James Mason) with a flirtatious teenage nymphet (Sue Lyon), which will soon lead him to ruin and death. The opening credits perfectly capture the essence of this morbid, irrational infatuation: we see only a hand carefully and delicately applying nail polish to the toenails of a woman’s foot… We do not yet know to whom the hand and foot belong, but we are already ensnared in this ambiguous atmosphere, underscored by the musical theme - at once lyrical and dramatic - composed by Nelson Riddle.

Sergio Leone’s hugely famous film completes the so-called “Dollar Trilogy” (following A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More), and evokes the central themes of the classic Western with a mix of animations, “brushstrokes,” and “splashes” of colour (blood?) that “paint” the screen, along with sketched portraits of the main characters. But this introduction would not have its powerful impact without Ennio Morricone’s score, which is just as famous as the film itself and surprisingly blends a few notes, gunshots, whistles, and what sounds like a coyote’s howl. Morricone himself explained: “When I conduct the piece in concert, the coyote howls that set the rhythm for the film’s opening credits are usually played on the clarinet, but in the original version I adopted much more inventive solutions. Two male voices sang in overlapping layers, one shouting ‘A’ and the other ‘E.’ The ‘AAAAH’ and ‘EEEH’ were meant to be expressive, to imitate the animal’s howl and evoke the ferocity of the Wild West.” (Note 1)

Another brilliant artist, Richard Williams, created the animated sequence for What's new, Pussycat?, a best-selling film with a 1960s pop aesthetic featuring a cast of celebrities (Peter Sellers, Peter O'Toole, Woody Allen, Romy Schneider, Capucine, Paula Prentiss, and Ursula Andress as “guest star”) and based on the first screenplay produced by Woody Allen. The lively animated sequence presents the main characters and the corresponding names of actors/actresses, in addition to details foreshadowing the theme of the film, within highly elaborated contexts full of colour and energy. Again, the musical score, by Burt Bacharach, plays an important part: the title song, sung by Tom Jones, was Oscar-nominated and became an international hit.

Lord of War tells the story of a Ukrainian-American arms dealer (Nicolas Cage) who made his fortune on the global market by trafficking weapons from the former Soviet Army. The opening credits take us on a journey through the bullet-making process, before shifting to a war zone where the bullets are transported and distributed ... until one of them reaches its deadly target. These images are accompanied by the notes of an iconic 1966 song, “For What It’s Worth” by the folk-rock band Buffalo Springfield.

Richard Williams is perhaps best remembered for his work in creating one of the most famous characters in film history, the “Pink Panther” (which, in reality, refers to a precious diamond). In the first film of the series, starring Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau, the opening credits immediately introduce the “Panther” as a character, moving and gesturing in sync with Henry Mancini’s famous soundtrack. We see it being chased by the inspector, then playing with the opening credits themselves, even foreshadowing some of the scenes from the film that is about to begin... The Pink Panther character has become so famous that it has spawned animated TV series, video games, and a highly profitable line of merchandise.