Exactly what it says in the title.
I've seen a lot of lists like these, but none that have my selections. So, I have written my own list. Post your own personal favorites in the Comments section. So, in no particular order:
Band of Brothers: Choral music plays over creased, scratched photos and clips from the series that are filtered by hues of greens, browns, oranges, reds, greys, and blues. Instead of showing straight clips, it shows a succession of photos to create action, looking like someone's slide show, or like a whole bunch of frames are missing from the film reel. The chosen images incite curiosity about what's going to happen before you've even seen a frame of the series proper. The shot of Buck dropping his helmet into the snow intrigued me the first time I saw it; I knew that something awful had just happened to him and wondered what it was. That's something an opening should do: it should suck you in and make you want to find out what happens without seeing a single frame of action. The music, a slightly somber, wistful choral arrangement, fits so wonderfully. It puts you back in the time where the biggest war of the twentieth century was fought and prepares you for a true story of real persons.
Garfield and Friends: This cartoon had several openings. I'm talking about the one that begins with Garfield on the fence starting the song "We're Ready to Party." It's an upbeat samba combined with shots from various episodes that get you dancing and happy and ready for a fun time. Garfield isn't trying to teach you any lessons or make any serious artistic statements: it only means to entertain you, and that's just what the opening does. It has also woken me up on many a sleepy morning. There's another opening to the show that uses the same song but different clips. Why do I not put on that one too? Personal preference: I like the clips of the one that starts with Garfield on the fence better.
Gankutsuou: The opening is done in a completely different animation style from the rest of the show. The visuals are drawn in the style of black and brown ink on parchment, giving a pleasant storybook or novel illustration look to this anime based on The Count of Monte Cristo. Though the show takes place in the 51st century, the opening harkens back to the 19th century aesthetics that also appear. The opening features only two minor usages of the stationary patterns that characterise the rest of the show as a subtle preview of what's to come. The song is a romantic piano ballad whose lyrics echo Edmond's life before his friends screwed him over. Yes, Burnel does hit a sour note near the top of the song. But, I believe it's fully intentional, as it's Edmond singing. Edmond's life sucked, sucks, and will continue to suck--he's never going to get back to the point where he and Mercedes were 25 years ago. Why shouldn't he become so overwhelmed with sorrow at what his life could have been that he can't even sing decently? It is just the one note--the rest is sweet and touching, and there's no way I'm going to degrade an entire song for one (possibly intentionally) bad note. The whole thing fits together perfectly with the melancholy themes of the series and the book and is a pleasure to watch and hear.
The Adventures of Pete and Pete: I never liked this show when I was a kid, but I always loved the intro. I've only recently come to like it after finding out that Rick Gomez, who played Luz in Band of Brothers, was in it, and I got such a wave of nostalgia listening to that one-minute opening that I went out and bought the DVDs. The song contains lyrics that have absolutely nothing to do with the show but are somehow totally appropriate. I think it's about a school shooting, but it's very upbeat. The song is accompanied by shots of the major characters, which change every season (the shots, not the characters, except for once in season three). The show very kindly lets you know you're in for a weird time when the opening gives credit to a metal plate and a tattoo. We see the band Polaris performing on the lawn, making it one of the few shows where we see the band instead of just hearing them. It's also interspersed with random images, like a dog running through a sprinkler and a riderless bike flying through the air. For nostalgia and feel-goodness, this one is the best.
Carnivàle: For sheer artistry, this one wins. The camera goes into and out of Tarot cards containing images of paintings. This deck was created for the show and has never been marketed. After going inside each one, the picture fades into footage from the 1930s. This effect puts us right into the decade while telling us that the story will concern biblical imagery and things that happened centuries ago. In these clips, we see dance marathons, Jesse Owens at the Olympics, Stalin, dust storms, rallies at the White House, and, in a chilling image, a member of the KKK holding his child, who is wearing child-size KKK robes. An excellent match-up occurs when the face of a girl morphs into that of Michael on the painting Saint Michael Victorious, which was chosen to represent the King of Swords. The Destruction of the Leviathan and A Village Dance are also shown on the Ace of Swords and Temperance cards. Also of note is the White House appearing on the Tower card, which represents utter destruction wrought by ones own means. These cards let us know conflict of biblical proportions is coming. The music is strange, trippy, and tells you you're going into a world where magic and a whole lot of strangeness reigns. If you weren't in the mood for the show before you started watching, the opening puts you there. It's a shame this show didn't get to finish it's story. I never skip this opening.
Those are my favorites. But these openings are great too:
Fantastic Children, which has maybe the best opening theme I've heard for an anime--it sucked me in by the second word. The one thing that breaks the greatness is the inclusion of Wanda in the later portion of the opening. The rest of the visuals, slow pans of near-static images, fit the song perfectly, but that one fast, out-of-place action bit clashes with the established mood.
The Pacific. If you read my review of The Pacific, you'll know that I thought it failed on many levels. But I praised the credits, an excellent opening to a sub-par series. Searing music, charcoal drawings, and a color scheme of sepia infused with just a little red establish the tone and setting.
Cowboy Bebop. I don't care much for this show, other than the Vicious episodes, but I will agree that it has one happenin' opening. Intriguing visuals and appropriate music set the mood for bounty hunting in space. Jazzy, groovy, cool. Let's blow this scene.
Mystery Science Theater 3000. The greatness of this opening speaks for itself. It tells you exactly what's coming, shows you the characters, lets you see the very shoddy but charming special effects, and tells you that this is just a show about spoofing bad movies and nothing more, so don't worry about technicalities like how people live on spaceships. And it's a very catchy tune.
I, Claudius. The simplicity of the opening is refreshing. A snake slithers over a mosaic tile representation of Claudius and the title, which is written as "I CLAVDIVS." There are no snakes in this miniseries about the life of Emperor Claudius; the snake symbolises the poisoning, murder, and corruption in the Roman Empire. Short and sweet.
The Muppet Show: This theme song will get stuck in your head for days. And it's the Muppets. What's not to like about the Muppets?
Next: I'm going to clear up a misconception that some people have about anime that bothers me.
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