And now for the second in the series, Opening Credits I Love. For this edition we have Martin Scorsese's 1974 Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, not a film most people think of when they think of Scorsese but another great entry nonetheless in his stunning succession of films that started with Mean Streets in 1973 and ran through King of Comedy in 1983. Watching it again this week I realized that so many Scorsese films have superb opening title sequences. Think about the cab moving through the smoke and steam rising up from hell at the beginning of Taxi Driver or the beautiful image of Jake LaMotta, alone in the ring, shadow-boxing, in the opening of Raging Bull. Whatever you may think of the movies, and I think highly of them, those opening title sequences are marvelous. But here, in Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, we have my favorite of all Scorsese's openings.
It begins in Academy aspect ratio rather than widescreen as the music and blue satin background emulate the starry-eyed showbiz tales of old. After the titles themselves comes Scorsese's version of Dorothy's Kansas, except it's in color with a Gone With the Wind tinted red sky throughout. Alice as a child strolls along the landscape singing and despite the lack of appreciation she feels she gets, she knows she will be a star. Only little Alice's language betrays the rustic nostalgia on display, purposefully, and helps jolt the viewer forward in time to the present where, aided by Mott the Hoople's All the Way from Memphis and a sweeping crane shot (GWTW again?) that beautifully makes majestic the ordinary, we find the grown-up Alice at a sewing machine (Singer?), presumably having never succeeded in becoming a big-time entertainer. It's a fantastic introduction to the character and the story and it's one of my favorite opening credit sequences. Enjoy.
At Unexplained Cinema, the dark side of Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore.

10 comments:
This is great, Greg, a great analysis of a well-constructed opening sequence. Scorsese looks like he's going to give us a 50s weepy, but Alice sheds no tears for her ambition or herself. It's a new day for womanhood. It's a shame Scorsese didn't continue his explorations of a woman's life - to his credit, though, no woman in any of his films is a complete patsy.
Yes this is a wonderful opening scene, but I wouldn't call it the opening credits. Credits end with the Directed by credit. Opening credit sequences like the Pink Panther credits, or even James Bond credit sequences are little films unto themselves. Alice as a child is the first scene in the film, or possibly a prologue- but it occurs after the credits.
Marilyn, thanks. I find this to be one of Scorsese's most engaging and personal films even though I'm sure he wouldn't see it that way. I view his gritty, searing dramas in high regard but a big part of me wishes he had done more films like this one.
Editor Bill, perhaps I should change the title to avoid further confusion. I say in the piece, "after the titles themselves" indicating the clip and description go beyond the opening credits. If I think the opening credits and opening scene complement each other I'll go ahead and put them both up, despite the title.
wow, i had forgotten this title sequence. it's pretty sirk-ish compared to the film that follows. interesting writeup!
It does remind one of Sirk doesn't it? There's that hint of fifties melodrama in the opening credits mixed with 1939's GWTW and The Wizard of Oz in the opening scene that floats the illusion that we'll be seeing an old-fashioned Hollywood local girl makes good tale until it flies away, sucked into the vortex of yesteryear from which it came.
Wow, I'm struck at how much the theme and the design remind me of BLUE VELVET'S credits. Go ahead, play them one after another and tell me I'm wrong.
Tony, I thought of Blue Velvet while watching it. I saw Blue Velvet in the theatre when it was released and the opening credits reminded me at the time of this movie's credits which I had already become familiar with through cable. Good catch.
Greg, I find it interesting that the first two films you have covered in this series use their openings to throw the audience a curveball, giving up a set up to think you are going into one type of film only to show you something completely different. By the way, I have never figured out how Hollywood took this film and turned into the sitcom Alice. It would be like taking Shindler's List and making a tv version similar to Hogan's Heroes.
Fred, I've always felt the same way. The tv show is such an odd spinoff from this movie. Diane Ladd's wonderful character is turned into a "kiss my grits" caricature, the worst transformation of all. But also, Alice herself as played by Linda Lavin was far too savvy and witty in the show to have ever had the kind of submissive life that the movie Alice was running away from. Just thinking about it has men making a fist in the air while shouting in my best Werner Klemperer voice, "Ho-Gannnnnn!"
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