From Mike Calia:
Bare tree branches set against an oppressive grey sky, meeting somewhere between impressionism and expressionism and setting the palate for the whole movie (save for the blaring reds and wood tones that pop up later in the institutional settings). Then the camera points down, almost straight down (setting up the well scenes in Buffalo Bill's lair, as well), to the bottom of a hill, where Clarice Starling enters the frame and starts climbing and doesn't stop for the rest of the movie. It's part obstacle course, part fairy-tale woods, and not one frame is wasted. Add in Howard Shore's haunting score (unjustly snubbed by the Academy that year) and you have the perfect blend of modern police procedural suspense and gothic horror.
JE: Good one, Mike! This is such a deceptively simple beginning (and it takes you a little while to figure out what's going on), but you're absolutely right -- it leaves you with a feeling, of Clarice running through the cold, hazy, wintry woods, that stays with you for the whole picture. (Demme is so unfussy and elegant.) There's something about the starkness and emptiness of those titles -- white outlines filled with black -- that's chillingly effective, too. And then there's the way Clarice glances to the left -- not behind her down the vertiginous path from whence she came, but off in another direction -- before running out of the frame to the right. You get the feeling she's running from something, perhaps something from the past about to pounce into the present, and she isn't quite sure where it will come from.
By the way, Dr. Lecter offers an excellent Socratic lesson in the principles of critical thinking here:
Dr. L: I've read the case files, have you? Everything you need to know to find him is right there in those pages.
Clarice: Then tell me how.
Dr. L: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius -- of each particular thing ask: What is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Clarice: He kills women.
Dr. L: No! That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Clarice: Anger. Social acceptance. Sexual frustration --
Dr. L: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now...
Clarice: No. We just --
Dr. L: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?
Those words ought to be inscribed as an example in every classroom. See each thing for itself. Then consider its context. Understand how your enemy or adversary thinks. What may seem most important to you, may be only incidental to him...
This is the 2nd time you've posted an opening shot entry for a movie the day after I thought about that film as a possible inclusion.
I saw this again the other day and appreciated it even more, now that I'm a little older and picked up a lot I didn't notice before.
Also worth noting in this opening shot, Clarice jogs past a tree in those woods and there is a sign on it that says: "Hurt. Agony. Pain. Love - It." Everything we're about to encounter.
Does anyone know why the movie is entitled Silence of the Lambs? I have heard a few ideas, but I want to know what the filmmakers had in mind. Or did they leave it open to interpretation? (I have a hard time believing that such a deep movie would have such a pretentious title.)
The title is explained in the movie. Clarice tells Lecter that when she was a child living on a farm she witnessed the slaughtering of the spring lambs. The lambs were screaming, and she tried to save one but doesn't get very far. Lecter says:
"You still wake up sometimes, don't you? Wake up in the dark, with the lambs screaming? Do you think if you saved Catherine, you could make them stop...? Do you think, if Catherine lives, you won't wake up in the dark, ever again, to the screaming of the lambs?"
Sad and creepy.
"Also worth noting in this opening shot, Clarice jogs past a tree in those woods and there is a sign on it that says: "Hurt. Agony. Pain. Love - It." Everything we're about to encounter."
So? Is that a value in itself? Is films rebus? Is it layering? Details? Foreshadowing. No, those are seductions, that some filmmakers and viewers never get beyond.
Those are fluff, phony. Cassavetes would never use such devices.
I know I've stumbled upon this late, but I want to respond to Ezikiel's comment. He claims that the sign in the woods is a seduction and, therefore, fluff. But everything in "Silence of the Lambs" is about seduction. Clarice is seducted in a sense by Lecter, and she's seduced into Bill's house. She is seduced by the case. Every man in the movie dreams about seducing her (the scene at the funeral home, for instance). The movie seduces the audience into its story. Seduction can be and is used as fluff, but definitely not in this case.
Hey Jim,
I'm going back on some old opening shots you've posted (and I'm loving them) and I feel compelled to say thanks for this one. I have loved The Silence of the Lambs for a long time but the opening shot always bothered me. Why? The reason is simply because of the style the titles are displayed in.
I kept thinking that here is
1.) a film produced by a large film studio, not a small independent company.
2.) A huge box office smash.
3.) A multiple Oscar winner, Golden Globe winner, etc.
You would think that if a film has the three aspects above it would have title cards that would be flashier or at least in color? But no, The Silence of the Lambs has the blandest titles I've ever seen. It's always bothered me why the titles were so boring, but now you've enlightened me. There's a very vague feeling that the titles seem to be at home in this eerie unknown location and it subtly establishes the mood. Wonderful job! That point really bothered me up until now.