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I think Jaws was in my Top 10 before I was born. It can be found in the (far too large) folder entitled “Movies I Saw Too Young” (filed just before Killer Klowns from Outer Space), which, secondarily, is the product of me being the youngest child by five years, but primarily, a reflection of my family’s ability to recognize genius when they see it — and then making sure I appreciate it.

[Spoilers, but please reevaluate everything if you haven’t seen this.]

Spielberg. Dreyfuss. Shaw. Scheider. Four men, the sum of whom equals what has proved to be one of the most rewatchable and enjoyable movies on my list. Seems odd for a film in which multiple humans, including a child, are consumed, but Spielberg knew how to make sure the *stakes were high.

Legend has it (well, the making-of documentary has it…) that the animatronic Shark on set, “Bruce”, was perennially broken. In the storyboards, we were supposed to see the shark way sooner than we do. But Spielberg was running out of time and Universal was running out of patience, so they had to shoot something. Praise be to faulty 1975 technology, because if accidental genius is a thing, we proved it in not really seeing the shark until a good bit into Act II. Instead, (the god among men) John Williams invented him with two notes. What’s scarier than seeing a scary thing? Not seeing it, but knowing it’s there.

I think my favorite part of Jaws is Police Chief Brody’s character arc in Act I, particularly every interaction he has with the Mayor. Brody arrives unsure of himself in a new community. He asserts himself, second-guesses himself, gives in to economic and political pressure and gets burned. Twice. With his son recovering from the shock of being grazed by death in the background, we see the fulfillment of his Act I arc come in the form of grabbing the quivering Mayor by the collar and telling him what’s about to go down. Hire Quint (Shaw). Kill shark.

*A quick word about stakes, I recently heard an interview with Spielberg in which he explains that the only reason the shark eats the little boy, Alex Kintner, was because he was young and stupid (Spielberg, not the boy). You’ll notice the kids in Jurassic Park never meet a similar fate. The difference? Spielberg had kids by 1993, and couldn’t bring himself to kill one of the kid characters. The result? Jurassic Park is classic, but has no where near the edge that Jaws has.

And don’t get me wrong, every moment on the Orca (Acts II and III) is pretty much perfect. Inarguably, Shaw gets all the best lines, but Scheider and Dreyfuss hold their own with believability and comedic prowess, respectively. The legendary scar-comparison scene below deck is without equal, particularly when the writers force us to sobriety with Quint’s recounting of surviving the USS Indianapolis. Spielberg makes us laugh, cry and sing, all within just a few moments. All hail the GOAT.

I’ve never really made my peace with the Quint’s demise, especially what with him divulging to us that getting eaten by a shark was his worst-case-scenario. I guess we can chock it up to stakes again. Or the genre’s need for another blood sacrifice. Whatever the case, that loss still stings for me. May he RIP.

Sidenote, all the actors thought it was going to bomb while shooting. The shark (when it was working) looked fake, Spielberg wasn’t a thing yet, it had an $8M budget and no market (summer blockbusters wouldn’t become a thing until, well, this movie came out). So Dreyfuss, being the financially savvy one in the group, opted to take a guaranteed salary, whilst everyone else opted for a percentage of the profits. He felt sadness when the shark ended up looking super real and it made $470M worldwide.

10/10 for acting, writing, cinematography, score, Hitchcokian shout-outs, bow-legged women, and Fair Spanish Ladies.