Close Analysis Of Blood Simple Opening Sequence

Analysis of the opening sequence of

Blood Simple directed by Joel and Ethan Coen.

The film begins with a sequence of seven establishing shots with a voiceover. The setting is Texas, as both the accent of the man talking in the voiceover, and the oil drills suggest. The shots get progressively darker, indicating that a day is drawing to a close. Each shot takes around five to six seconds and the total sequence is about 45 seconds. None of the shots show any humans at all, and the only movement is the slow methodical oil drill in the seventh shot. The effect of this is to suggest that this is a lonely, isolated and desolate area.

The mise-en-scene of this, the opening shot of the film, is worth commenting on. The shot shows a lonely, desolate road; the very low angle camera shot gives the impression of the road disappearing indefinitely into the distance. Nothing but dry scrubland appears either side of the road.

The only object in shot is a carefully placed piece of worn rubber tyre, presumably from a blow out, perhaps implying an accident.

The existence of this piece of tyre has the effect of adding to the emptiness of the road by emphasising that there is nothing else there. In addition, it indicates that there is rarely much traffic on the road, since otherwise the piece of tyre would have gone.

After 45 seconds of this montage of establishing shots, the Coens cut to two, faint, dots of light, alone in a vast black nothingness: a car. This is clearly a very isolated car, both the lighting and the long shot give this impression.

Adding to this sense of isolation are the last words of the voiceover, which we hear as a sound-bridge as the cut to this shot is made: “what I know about is Texas, and down here, you’re on your own.”

The car comes rapidly towards the camera before shooting past; it is all shockingly sudden after the quiet and slow pace of the previous 45 seconds. As the car passes the camera the point of view changes and suddenly the audience is looking down from the bonnet of the car as the road races by underneath.

The voiceover has gone and has been replaced initially by the diegetic sound of the car racing past; this is added to by the non-diegetic music: a soundtrack which is slightly unsettling, sinister electronic music with medium-paced, heavy drums.

There is a fast paced tracking shot from the point of view of the car, following the road; this gives the impression of rapid movement.

Titles The name of the film now appears in blue against a black background.

Hereafter titles (cast and crew’s names) are superimposed in the same colour and font, over the subsequent shots, generally in unobtrusive positions in areas of blackness in the frames.

The Coens cut to inside the car. The point of view is from the back seat, and we see the outlines of two heads, the windscreen-wipers furiously clearing the driving rain, and occasionally a the blinding lights of a car driving in the opposite direction. The darkness, the dreadful weather, the fact that we don’t see the characters faces and they remain mysterious and the uncertainty as to who they are and what there relationship is, all add to the sense of unease.

It becomes clear that the driver is a man and the passenger a woman when the woman says: “He gave me a little pearl-handled .38 for our first anniversary.” This immediate reference to a gun, in juxtaposition with the new knowledge the woman is married, and not to the man she is with, immediately raises our suspicions. A sense of menace is established by the mention of the gun.

As the conversation goes on, we learn that the woman is running away from her husband: she’s worried that her husband is “ill…mentally”. The man driving her is an employee of the husband, and confesses to liking the woman. The chiaroscuro lighting adds to the sense of realism begun by our entrance into the conversation in media res.

The non-diegetic music dies away and we’re left with the diegetic sound of the windscreen wipers and the car, a louder noise, that of another car, becomes apparent. Suddenly the woman demands that Ray stop the car. We cut to a close up of his foot slamming on the brake, and then to the front of the car screeching to a stop.

The Coens then cut to a low angle shot from the side of the car we were just in. We seen another car pull up behind it, obviously the source of the woman’s distress. This low-angle shot puts the other car, although small and tatty (with number plate hanging off) in a powerful position. With the distance and the natural, chiaroscuro lighting, we are unable to make out the driver at all.

The Coens now cut back inside the car, to the same position we were in. Ray (John Getz) turns slowly around to look at the car; this is the first face we see. It is a close up and his face wears an intense, anxious look, indicating danger. The woman does not turn, suggesting she knows too well what is behind them. This also continues to keep a key element of her identity mysterious.

We cut back to the second car and there is an uncomfortable pause; the only sound is diegetic: that of the car engines ticking over. The tension is palpable, and the possibility of imminent confrontation obvious. The city seems to glimmer attractively but distantly, in the background; safety seems a long way away.

Finally we see it begin to move off, presumably because the driver realises that the people he has been tailing have noticed his presence and he cannot therefore continue secretly following them. As it passes the first car we get a medium shot of the car, confirming its tattiness and also showing us the head of the driver: he appears to be wearing a cow-boy hat.

The pan shot follows the second car as it drives away; adding significance to that vehicle, drawing the audience the conclusion that it, or its driver, will play an important part in the plot. The car disappears into the darkness.