Warning: this blog post begins with an extended NBA metaphor. Because I can.
Alright, so you know I’m a huge San Antonio Spurs fan. I was blessed to watch for nearly a decade the solid awesomeness that was Bruce Bowen. To a casual fan, Bowen’s stats weren’t great. He played for three different teams. Never scored 10 points per game, never grabbed more than four rebounds over a single season. But still, he was a starter on three championship teams and did two things really exceptionally: he could hit corner 3-pointers and he played incredible defense.
But that’s all that San Antonio needed from him. He was the consumate role player. This is how I think of title sequences. You don’t need them to carry the show. Just do enough to not give people a reason to turn the show off. And if you do them well, the people that watch them really closely will love them and love the show even more for it. Title sequences can never make up for bad plot or shoddy character development (and at the end of the day, a bad sequence will never kill a terrific show), but they need to do their role well.
This brings me to Community. NBC’s niche show that is adored by few and usually ignored by the vast majority of the public. The writing is brilliant and the characters are charming and exchange layered dialogue that always keeps you guessing. But who’s the Bruce Bowen of Community?
“Easy,” you say. “It’s Dean Pelton. Next question.”
My response to you, person who is really in-tune with Community but apparently had the Bruce Bowen metaphor fly over your head, the answer is the title sequence. I remember watching the opening sequence for the first time and thinking “That was pretty cool. Catchy song. Digging the graphics,” and then moved on with the show. But as I watched the show more, and the show grew on me more, the title sequence began to add an extra layer to the program. The cute animations on each tab of the fortune teller portray essentially the characters personality in a two second segment. Not only did I love that they went through so much effort planning out their ideas and character development early on in the show, but I would debate the merits of the animations and think if they had hit the characters just right. Maybe I’m just weird, but it really brought a lot to the table for me. It just works.
And that’s what motion graphics need to be. On their best day, they’re thrilling and engaging and they stick out in your brain well after what you watched is over. Like Se7en or Catch Me If You Can. Both terrific movies, but WOW those title sequences. They really added something to the point that maybe I don’t enjoy the movie as much without them leading me in to the thematic elements.
And that’s fine. But there’s a market for Bruce Bowen title sequences too. Ones that take nothing off the table, do their two things really well, and eventually the people who care about the show will hold them as closely as they do the ones that they openly know are vastly superior. It’s easy. Know your aesthetic. Sell your aesthetic in an appealing way that won’t get old after five episodes, and make it engaging enough that you’re led into the show or movie ready to go.