The Third Man (1949) opens on a curious image. Long before we see occupied Vienna’s cavernous sewers and abandoned Ferris wheels haunted by shadows and ghosts, the opening credits roll on a static shot of a zither. It’s our first introduction to the surprisingly jaunty clatter of strings that score the whole film. Initially, the shot choice is almost kooky, but then a curious omission dawns. No one is seen plucking the moving strings, as though the instrument is puppeted by invisible hands.