25 Classic TV Title Sequences

THE TWILIGHT ZONE (1959-64)

Submitted for your approval: this early gem. Perfectly setting up the nervy drama of Rod Serling's groundbreaking sci-fi anthology series, the sequence starts with a wood-frame portal drifting in space, the stentorian tones of Serling's voice (''You unlock this door with the key of imagination...''), and, of course, the now-famous theme music. Composer Marius Constant's jittery four-note melody, introduced to the show in the second season, has become a kind of audio shorthand for the strange and the mysterious. —Wook Kim

Watch the Twilight Zone title sequence

GET SMART (1965-69)

No doubt about it: In the mid-'60s, America was crazy for James Bond and anything that else that featured a tuxedoed secret agent with a pistol in one hand and a martini in the other. Leave it to funnymen Buck Henry and Mel Brooks to create a character who hilariously lampooned those conventions. —WK

Watch the Get Smart title sequence

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE (1966-73)

Every show began with a bang: the tense energy of a lit fuse exploding into Lalo Schifrin's insanely propulsive theme music (for which the composer employed a rarely used five-beats-to-a-measure rhythm). Because every opening sequence made extensive use of footage from the episode that followed, no two openers are alike. (In fact, it was the editors who were given near-impossible missions — a two-minute teaser had to be rush-cut for each new episode.) To those who refuse to fully appreciate the craft put into each clip, I must disavow any and all knowledge of your existence. —WK

Watch the Mission: Impossible title sequence

Mad Men (2007-present)

The Mad Men theme song, a short-edit version of hip-hop producer RJD2?s instrumental track ''A Beautiful Mine,'' and the silhouetted businessman who falls during the opening credits are so evocative of that show that they've inspired parodies and homages. —Abby West

THE WILD WILD WEST (1965-69)

You can never go wrong with well-executed animation to help create a mood or scene. Case-in-point: the opener for this unlikely series, which fused genre elements of the Western with the then-popular spy thriller (''James Bond on horseback'' is how the creator described it). The stylish multi-paneled clip tells you everything you need to know about Secret Service agent James West: He's cool and distant, he knows how to use a gun, and he's not above hitting a lady. It says more in its brief 50 seconds than all 107 minutes of Will Smith's appalling 1999 big-screen adaptation. —WK

The Simpsons (1990-present)

New things have been added since the Simpsons' first episode and it's now in HD format to allow even more details, but the parting clouds and action-packed trip through Springfield that end with new and creative couch scenes are as much a part of the show's legacy as any Bart quote. Anyone who disagrees with me can eat my shorts. —AW

Watch a Simpsons title sequence

THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW (1970-77)

It might be hard to believe now, but putting this series on the air was something of a gamble for CBS. Did anyone really want to watch a comedy about the life of a single career woman? The small brilliance of the title sequence, with its wistfully optimistic Sonny Curtis song, is how it efficiently presents a 30ish Moore — light years removed from The Dick Van Dyke Show's Laura Petrie — as a sometimes vulnerable but mostly upright and strong symbol of female empowerment. —WK

Watch the Mary Tyler Moore Show title sequence

THE MONKEES (1966-68)

Capitalizing on the wild success of four lads from Liverpool, the creators of the series took their cues from the Beatles, including the show's opening credits. They gamely, if shamelessly, appropriated the goofy vibe of films like Help! and A Hard Day's Night — and got away with it, largely because of the genuine charm of this Pre-Fab Four. —WK

Watch the Monkees title sequence

THE ROCKFORD FILES (1974-80)

First came the answering machine (which played a new message in each episode). Then Mike Post and Pete Carpenter's incredibly catchy tune (which deservedly became a pop-radio hit). And then the photographs. Now this, people, is a proper photomontage. Dissolves, pans, zoom-ins: every editing trick helps you understand why private investigator Jim Rockford — despite living in a trailer and driving around in a battered Pontiac — still gets the jobs (and sometimes even the ladies). —WK

THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN (1974-78)

This clip holds up pretty darn well — spruce up the effects, add modern graphics (and maybe have the title adjusted for inflation), and it could run now. They might've been able to make Col. Steve Austin ''better, stronger, faster,'' but there's really not much to improve on in these credits. —WK

Watch the Six Million Dollar Man title sequence

MIAMI VICE (1984-89)

A cop show set in Miami? With cop heroes who favor pastel pants and Belgian loafers? Starring Don Johnson? Credit Jan Hammer's synthy score and an MTV-style montage of showgirls, flamingos, cigarette boats, and jai alai for turning South Florida into an exotic locale, rich with danger and excitement. —WK

Watch the Miami Vice title sequence

TWIN PEAKS (1990-91)

The yearning dreaminess of Angelo Badalamenti's music + the pyrotechnic violence of an industrial-grade saw being sharpened = haunting magic. Yep, that David Lynch is a genius. —WK

Watch the Twin Peaks title sequence

NYPD BLUE (1993-2005)

Created by Steven Bochco with theme music written by Mike Post, NYPD Blue came alive thanks to the handheld footage and the percussive theme's driving energy. —WK

COWBOY BEBOP (U.S. Version: 2001-present)

How fitting that this popular anime series, which takes many of its cues from Western popular culture, should have an opening sequence that's just as gloriously derivative. A head-bobbing jazz score drives a perfectly cut series of images that would've done Saul Bass proud. —WK

Watch the Cowboy Bebop title sequence

SIX FEET UNDER (2001-05)

HBO shows, specifically the ones that have aired on Sunday nights, are in a class by themselves, and the opening credits are no exception. With so many memorable sequences to choose from — Carnivále, Deadwood, Rome, Big Love, and, of course, The Sopranos — I keep returning to the understated beauty of the Six Feet Under intro. There isn't a hint of the macabre here, but rather a dark elegance that comes from the evocative images (the snap of the gurney wheel, the irrevocable drip of the embalming fluid, the wilting flowers) that roll to the strains of Thomas Newman's delicate but chilly score. —WK

Watch the Six Feet Under title sequence

The Brady Bunch (1969-74)

Every week you were reminded how they all became the Brady bunch, with the lyrical exposition of how this lovely lady, who was bringing up three very lovely girls, met this man named Brady, who was busy with three boys of his own. The sequence may have been updated as they all got older, but the story remained the same, and I've got much more than a hunch that that's just the way we all wanted it. —AW

Happy Days (1974-84)

Jukeboxes, big old cars, spinning records — those visuals combined with Bill Haley & his Comets' dare-you-not-to-swing-your-hips theme song in the opener immediately transported you to the '60s...at least a really halcyon version of the '60s. Goodbye gray skies, hello blue indeed. —AW

Watch the Happy Days title sequence

Good Times (1974-79)

You may not have seen the Evans family in the flesh in the opening sequence, but by the time you got to the family portrait, after watching scenes of urban life and blight, you knew that even in the midst of hardships (temporary layoffs! Easy-credit rip-offs!) they were able to find joy in keeping their headsabove water. —AW

Three's Company (1977-84)

Jack's wacky! The Ropers are wacky! The whole dang show's wacky! Yep, we got all that from the montage for the show that's her and hers and his. —AW

All in the Family (1971-79)

Those were the days, when the sight of Carroll O'Connor and Jean Stapleton warbling at the piano and waxing nostalgic for a more conservative time signaled a family's rush to the living room to settle in and listen to the unexpectedly lovable bigot. —AW

THE COSBY SHOW (1984-92)

The horns, the dancing, the Cos! After season 1's effects-laden slideshow of an opener, we graduated to the famous dancing/mugging theme that remained until the end of the series. As the seasons went on, the opener evolved — the kids grew up, and new folks were added — but it was Bill Cosby's sometimes spastic, sometimes smooth moves to that same jazzy track that tied it all together. —AW

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (1990-96)

See, there was this mouthy kid who was getting into trouble in his poor Philadelphia neighborhood and got shipped off to rich relatives in Cali. And we got all that from the Fresh Prince's rap in the show's frantic — though very colorful — cartoonish opener. —AW

Watch the Fresh Prince title sequence

The X-Files (1993-2002)

If the clips of various unexplained things don't creep you out, then Mark Snow's instrumental music definitely does. —AW

Lost (2004-10)

It was brief, but the combination of the gong and the out-of-focus title coming at you was as disorienting as the show often was, creating a Pavlovian response in viewers: Strap in for the ride. —AW

THE OFFICE (U.K Version: 2001-02)

Using a few stately (and metaphor-rich) tracking shots — of concrete walls, gray skies, and a traffic roundabout — to capture the soulless horrors of cubicle life, the short intro neatly set us up for the desperate and pathetically humane humor that followed. Let's just say that the creators of this sequence were as shrewd and thoughtful as Wernham Hogg regional manager David Brent was, well, not. —WK