"Winter is coming." —Lord Eddard Stark

A fiery astrolabe orbits high above a world not our own; its massive Cardanic structure sinuously coursing around a burning center, vividly recounting an unfamiliar history through a series of heraldic tableaus emblazoned upon it. An intricate map is brought into focus, as if viewed through some colossal looking glass by an unseen custodian. Cities and towns rise from the terrain, their mechanical growth driven by the gears of politics and the cogs of war.

From the spires of King's Landing and the godswood of Winterfell, to the frozen heights of The Wall and windy plains across the Narrow Sea, Elastic's thunderous cartographic flight through the Seven Kingdoms offers the uninitiated a sweeping education in all things Game of Thrones.

Steve Seeley and Studio Dialog paint a gritty picture of heritage and struggle with their opening for Blackstone, Showcase Channel's gripping Aboriginal drama. In the show's title sequence, mounds of dusty earth blow across archive photos and snapshots of modern day tribe life and the children of First Nation branch out from their ancestors' shadows.

"Never say you know the last word about any human heart." - Henry James

Huge Designs' opening title sequence for the UK's Channel 4 television adaptation of William Boyd's novel Any Human Heart casts widening threads of light and shadow to frame an Everyman's journey through infinite sadness and celebrity.

"Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic."
- Jim Jarmusch

Bringing fresh energy to motion comics -animating panels as vibrantly dead as any Romero classic- Daniel Kanemoto's fan-made title sequence for AMC's new series "The Walking Dead" gives new form and perspective to the work of an impressive string of creatives. The original comic was given life by writer Robert Kirkman and artist Tony Moore, and Charlie Adlard from issue #7. "The Walking Dead" debuts on All Hallows Eve with Frank Darabont as writer/director. The infinite regress found in the hunt of our ghoulish selves found in source material this good should allow for deeper exploration into the allure of the walking dead.

Happy Halloween.

“It's adventure time,
C'mon, grab your friends,
We'll go to very distant lands
With Jake the Dog,
And Finn the Human,
The fun will never end,
It's Adventure Time!”

Through wood and wasteland penguins cuddle at the outset of the wonderful Land of Ooo. Pendleton Ward's cartwheel of an opening sequence to his Adventure Time series sports all the warm-and-fuzzies of a My Little Pony rainbow and Conan The Destroyer's Atlantean Sword. The unaffected acoustic theme, which Pen also sings, establishes the fever dream folktales that follow. This is a silly smart world punctuated with noodle-armed pounds and a few scares by dint of (what else) adventure.

A blood valentine to the fucking madness, the opening title sequence for Showtime's "Dexter" is a veritable annunciation of an unholy but likable embodiment of the common rage we can root for. It is a sociopath's ability to focus on the little things.

While stabilizing sources suggest Dexter's episodic beginning was carefully designed, it is also enjoyable to view it as slick Grand Guignol, relatable and savage. Here is a killer consumed by the pursuit of an unattainable satiety, all jaw and maw, whetting this morning-time macabre in florid, ratcheting fashion. With a twisted lick of piano wire/dental floss, a favored mosquito going red, and food gone wild, we are able to refine and contextualize the shape, scream and vision of one Dexter Morgan. The butter of all that blood, shaving to bleed and the tang of hot sauce pyrotechnics, plays toward our tendencies of psychiatrist and sidekick.

Baptismal and greasy war-streaked faces of mothers’ sons were rendered by Steve Fuller -then in his eighth year at Imaginary Forces, this his final project- and continued by Ahmet Ahmet, using charcoal on tracing paper then scanned and overlaid back into the provided original footage. Hans Zimmer’s score plays with a dignity that is on par with To Kill A Mockingbird (and it’s own legendary opening).

The visuals, profound; the sky-soiling blood sun, a singular helmet strap that seems to drain from the man, from his horrors, the variations of charcoal dust analogical to the volcanic sand of the Pacific islands -all blending and fueling the notion that life runs from our sons and the sons of our enemies then as now.