Cast:
Roy Scheider (Chief Martin Brody), Robert Shaw (Quint), Richard Dreyfuss (Matt Hooper), Lorraine Gary (Ellen Brody), Murray Hamilton (Mayor Larry Vaughn), Carl Gottlieb (Meadows), Jeffrey Kramer (Deputy Leonard Hendricks), Susan Backlinie (Chrissie Watkins), Lee Fierro (Mrs. Kintner), and Peter Benchley (Interviewer) Directed by Steven Spielberg (#126 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind, #168 - Raiders of the Lost Ark, #169 - Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, #170 - Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, #302 - Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, #351 - Schindler's List)
Review:
You might wonder why I'm giving a revised review of a movie I covered before. Well, that review was nearly 12 years ago on November 11, 2013. Enjoy.
Like most great movies, it all started with taking a novel into one's hands. In early 1974, Peter Benchley's debut novel Jaws was published, which had seen him take inspiration from shark attacks and the exploits of Frank Mundus, a fisherman that once caught a shark weighing over 4,000 pounds off the New York shores. Benchley thought the book wasn't going to be a hit, mainly because it was a first novel and that it was "about a fish". The result was a novel that sold over five million copies in its first 18 months. Ironically, both Benchley and Mundus became conservationists in later years, with the former telling people that he could not write the book as it was in good conscience (for Mundus, he later called the movie "the funniest and the stupidest movie I've ever seen because too many stupid things happened in it."). Benchley was tasked to write the first draft of the screenplay, and it was he would basically do the "mechanics" of the script more so than characterization, which most notably saw him excise the affair between Brody and Hooper (upon suggestion). Others delivered uncredited work such as Howard Sackler, John Milius, Matthew Robbins, and Hal Barwood; Carl Gottlieb, who was tasked to bring in "some levity", was given co-credit with Benchley on the screenplay. The director would be Steven Spielberg, who had two features to his credit at the time with the TV-film-turned movie Duel (1971) and The Sugarland Express (1974). 159 days of production were spent around Massachusetts and the Atlantic Ocean due to overruns that saw script refinement and a bit of cast strife. You probably already know Jaws was a phenomenon, but it still sounds fun to say it: Universal spent a good deal of money marketing the movie in a media blitz and a strategy that was still not as widely used now: releasing the movie on hundreds of theaters at once for opening week, with over 400 theaters seeing the movie on June 20. For two years, Jaws was the highest-grossing movie of all time and the TV premiere of the movie in 1979 saw over half of the total US audience watch it. Years later, Benchley was asked about a deal involving sequels to Jaws, with him stating, "I don't care about sequels; who'll ever want to make a sequel to a movie about a fish?" Jaws 2, with no Spielberg or Dreyfuss, came out in 1978 as directed by Jeannot Szwarc to mixed reviews. Jaws 3-D (1983) and Jaws: The Revenge (1987, with Gary returning because...) came out later to diminishing box office returns and little-to-no creativity. Benchley went on to write seven more novels, with a handful being adapted into films such as The Deep (1977) and The Island (1980); he died in 2006 at the age of 65.
I admit that I've seen Jaws roughly three times: once in 2013, another a few years later, and lastly just a few days ago with my mom. I wanted to re-live the experience of wondering what was so great about a movie like this, and what better time than in the summer and in July? Steven Spielberg is probably the seminal entertainer for direction in the past fifty years, but I really did want to figure out (at least, again) just how he did it. Whether thought of as an action thriller or as a horror movie (let's be honest, there are people who willingly choose to ignore the latter genre because of bias), there is just something so thrilling about how this movie pushes one's buttons so effectively in great adventure. Filmmakers could only dream to make a movie run as well as one can for two hours that has no bloat or demand for more that come across here, and this is for a film that wisely spaces out its tension until it absolutely becomes important to do what it has to do. To borrow from old me, there were plenty of "animals gone bad" movies before and after this movie such as say, Grizzly (1976), Piranha (1978; widely considered among the best of the Jaws ripoffs), Alligator (1980), and so on, but Jaws just has that enthusiasm and commitment to its tension. You have to remember that the movie characters are meant to be more likable than the book characters, which dealt with a subplot involving the Mayor being tied to the Mafia and the aforementioned affair between two characters. The funny thing is that it was easier to cast Brody with a perceived "tough guy" in Scheider than the other two key roles, which apparently were not cast until the last few days of pre-production that resulted in two people being cast with how good they were in other people's movies at the time: actor/writer Robert Shaw, who had worked on the recent Universal Pictures hit in The Sting (1973) for Quint and American Graffiti (1973) star Richard Dreyfuss for Hooper. They all are essentially perfect for what needs to happen for the film. Scheider in particular shines because he fits the everyman type like a glove, one with real worries and quibbles that sells for all who know the plight of being, well, a fish out of water.
Shaw was a man of the stage who happened to write on the side, so of course he can play the ultimate rugged captain (he was a Bond adversary, for heaven's sake, he could do anything). Every line of his has a certain type of timing and cadence that we find listening to intently that is rewarded with that one particular sequence in the "U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue" that he sells in such a soulful way that it almost doesn't matter just who (Shaw, Milius, Sackler, what have you) came up with what in writing it. Apparently, Dreyfuss thought that the movie was going to be a "disaster" because of the general boredom that came in waiting to film. There's the veneer of charm within a part that apparently was molded to be Spielberg's "alter ego" (debate on that), and Dreyfuss draws a few light chuckles even in the great admirer of, well, the routines in science. Bottom line: you care about these folks. It may interest you to know that this was the debut theatrical performance of Gary, who had done a handful of television performances. But it is Hamilton and his steely smarm in the art of evasiveness that probably sticks out the most now more than ever: a person in a position of power that hears of certain facts and doggedly moves forward with his own self-serving needs anyway. Evidently, there is actual footage of real sharks in the film, as Ron and Valerie Taylor shot footage in the waters of South Australia that had an actor in a mini shark cage. The look of the shark isn't what matters in the end, what matters is the fact that it could come when it comes to suspense that came from someone who honed their craft in suspense with Duel (1971) and plays with the audience just enough to where the climax will splatter in harrowing excellence. As a whole, Jaws is the phenomenon for monster movies one would hope to aspire to do. I'm not really sure exactly where it rests on the pantheon of entertaining Spielberg movies when considering his earlier work (and what's to come), but it sure has a hell of an argument for making a good time.
Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.
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