Credit Where It's Due

I’ve always been fascinated by the credits on films and TV shows. Even when friends were running for the exits as soon as the roller began, I would ease back and take in the army of actors and crew.

Over the years those lists have become longer and longer, as the volume of people acknowledged, however distantly involved in the process, has grown ever greater. Of course, more and more that means that in a regular theatre you’re the last person left, lights bright and cleaners already sweeping up spilt popcorn and discarded wrappers. (Very different to a premiere, cast & crew screening or festival screening where most people are rooted until beyond the very last copyright credit).

A plus for elongated titles is the opportunity for the composer to expand thematic ideas or conclude musical concepts, though whether the benefit is properly taken advantage of is for a separate debate.

In any case, once you're actually involved with putting such lists together, the seemingly simple task of collating a series of names becomes an epic struggle of the legal, the personal and, yes, even the artistic.

The legal should be straightforward. Position, placement and size depending upon importance (or influence) of the cast or crew member. During the shoot, the production office keeps an ongoing record of names and titles, although by the time credits are finally created, it's usually at least a year later, sometimes more than two, since deals were agreed.

The personal comes into play when a company or individual expects / wants / needs a credit. Personally, no matter the size of the contribution, we always believe the making of a show is all about the team and therefore recognition of the entire team is fair. Some people take advantage - especially in the financing side, but that's just a part of life.

And then you get the artistic. After all, credits are part of the film, so there’s always thought that goes into such seemingly basic lists. That could mean additional footage or outtakes or an easter egg - but mostly it's the elegance of layout and effectiveness of design that closes the story. The real key, even taking account previously mentioned contractual requirements, is the precise order. Personally, I prefer listing personnel by department. Apart from HODs, other crew members are grouped together - just like actors, music personnel and VFX artists always are. Just makes more sense.

As such, the layout of the seemingly arbitrary mass of names tells you more about the people controlling the credits, than the people involved in the film. Most particularly this is true with Directors and Writers (and often with Music Composers who are often literally an afterthought). Apart from some anomalies, the Director has always been the final credit, the forever auteur. Some years ago, the normal order would therefore flow as: Writer - Producer - Director. In more recent times, that value of authorship has seen a shift to the revised recognition of: Producer - Writer - Director. Having worked on all sides, this latter order feels about right. An acknowledgment of the creative foundations on which a film has been constructed.

Which is not to say that a 'producer' (of whatever description) has not been vital to the creative process - most times the original producer has struggled for years to put the project together with an artistic vision and a burning ambition. A producer is also the one left with the afterlife of a film long after everyone else has moved on - but that's another discussion.

However long it's been since your involvement on the production, watching the finished film can be disturbing enough without the surprise / shock of seeing your credit placed in a strange order or even your name misspelt. It's all personal.

The creative outcome of a film or TV show is the result of so many people, for good or bad, and end titles / credits can be a reflection of the design, a positive part of the overall experience. Many times, that final sequence tells everything about the last controlling producer still standing rather than the talent involved.