'Don't Look Now' Opening Sequence - An Analysis

The first thing we notice about the opening sequence to ‘Don’t Look Now’ is the colour red, appearing in almost every frame: in the form of the young girl’s coat, dotted around in the room in which the two parents sit, on the ball. This can be deemed as very significant to introducing the story as the colour red connotes a sense of danger that, quite possibly, lingers everywhere, or can be a representative of blood, linking with danger.

The first frame of the opening sequence is accompanied by a slow, peaceful melody, which is largely appropriate as the camera depicts a young girl wandering through a field. In this same frame, we see a white pony (perhaps acting as a symbol of innocence, suggested by the colour white), probably belonging to the girl’s family, running in almost the opposite direction in which she is heading – towards the darkness of the trees before her. This could be interpreted as being a striking metaphor for what is to become of the girl’s fate and the state in which her family is left: shrouded in darkness.

26 seconds into the opening sequence, we’re given a below shot of the young girl, who appears almost as a silhouette against the background of sunlight filtering through the trees. This camera angle and depiction of the girl adds an element of mystery to the frame, in the way that shadow/darkness wraps around her, perhaps foreshadowing/posing a metaphor of what is to come. In this same frame, the left side of the screen (the more dominant side) is also the side that holds the darkness of the trees, whereas the right hand side (the weaker side) is where the girl is – this could also be foreshadowing the fact that the girl dies as a result of nature (she drowns in the river), making nature (ie. the left side) dominant.

As the girl steps closer to the camera in the same shot, she becomes more visible, and the glossy quality of her red coat becomes apparent, resembling blood in a stark manner. This could be a very likely tactic of Roeg, the director, of unnerving the audience from the get-go, and making them question the worst: is this young, innocent girl going to die?

At 40 seconds, our eyes follow a tracking shot depicting the girl moving alongside the river, following the ball she has just thrown in. The fact that she is moving so clearly parallel to the river and the ball it carries could be a representation of her acting parallel to the ball (which is to say the same or similarly), which ended up in the water. The lighting towards the bottom of the frame – the river and the riverbank – is considerably darker than the top of the frame – the light of the sky – creating a further sense of unease among the audience, who begin to fear that the river will come to play a significant part in the girl’s fate.

At 59 seconds through, a shot of the girl’s back is shown, and the audience is given its first view of the house: significantly far away from where the two children are. This builds on the tension, as the sense of foreboding grows heavier knowing that the children are just out of reach of the parents.

Mere shots later we are taken inside the house, introducing us with a warm shot of the crackling fire, connoting peace and tranquillity, easing our tension slightly – or perhaps a technique of Roeg to let down our guard. We are then shown the two parents, the father flicking through his photographs of a church. An element of mystery replaces our tension as we notice a red figure in the corner of the photograph he pauses on; we are shown this image again mere moments later, the father’s face quizzical. By the time we are shown this image for the third time (the father now inspecting it with a microscope), it is through a Dutch tilt; this disorientates the audience and elicits uncertainty.

Upon zooming in on the red figure, Roeg then takes a match cut to an upside-down reflection of the girl; he uses another tracking shot to capture her running and hopping alongside the river. This repeated red grows more prominent in the moments leading up to her death, causing the audience to build up tension again. The fact that we are shown her reflection upside-down in the water hints at perhaps her ending up there – which, of course, is what happens.

From 2:22 to 2:25, we are shown three moments of action, acting as a turning point in the opening sequence: the girl going through a puddle, the boy cycling through glass and the father reacting.

In reply to his wife (who is perusing her books), the father states, “Nothing is as it seems.” This line sticks out as significant as it hints at the red figure and what is now happening outside.

When we are shown a shot of the boy close up spinning the wheels of his bike, the girl has been made visible in the background, a speck of red in the green landscape; this is largely significant as it causes uneasiness among the audience, who are instantly reminded of the red figure in the father’s photograph.

Water seems to be a recurring theme in the opening sequence, for moments before the girl seems to fall into the river, the father spills water all over his photographs. An odd effect begins to take place, in which the red begins to weave its colours across the rest of the picture. Our tension then returns in full blast when realisation hits the father and he looks up slowly, horror etched upon his face.

We are then shown the girl slipping beneath the water, becoming a red blur beneath the surface.

The father, now running for the river, stumbles in after her, but it is too late. We feel his agony as his heartfelt cries are all that can be heard as he grips his daughter close to him, her red, glossy coat now more notable than ever. The second that the girl’s foot leaves the water, the sound of a harp accompanies it; this seems to me to signify angels – for many early portrayals of angels have them playing harps – and therefore the fact that she has departed life in this world.

Meanwhile, the red blotch on the photograph is expanding, curving upwards until it fades into a light golden glow, perhaps illustrating heaven or purity.

The opening sequence ends with a sound bridge between the moment when the mother first sees her dead daughter – now on the ground beneath the father – who screams, immediately followed by the harsh, cutting sound of a drill, reflecting the urgency and desperation left in the wake of this effective opening scene.