Forty-nine in Shark Years…
Forty-nine years ago, Jaws made its debut on the big screen. At some point since then, it became my favorite movie of all time. I can’t tell you when I first saw it. It wasn’t in theaters because I was a small child, and my parents wouldn’t have taken me to see it. But at some point, I watched Jaws, and somehow, this primordial tale of man vs. shark, or man vs. nature, depending on how you want to look at it, seeped into my brain and never left. I will admit that just because it’s my favorite movie has nothing to do with it being the best movie. No, there are other movies that are better, both from a technical perspective and an acting perspective. But Jaws is the movie I can watch on repeat all day, and I have. Back when TNT used to do a Jaws marathon on Memorial Day, they showed Jaws repeatedly for twenty-four hours. I would turn the TV on when I got up and leave it on until I left the house. During that time, I watched the entire movie at least three times. That’s when I figured out I found a certain comfort in that movie. For whatever reason, it had become like an old friend, a comfort that I would come back to repeatedly.
Part of the reason why I’m so engrossed in the movie is my lifelong love of the ocean and sharks. Like many young boys, I loved sharks when I was a child and had an extensive collection of plastic ones. In fact, they are probably still in a closet somewhere at my parent’s house. While other kids built sandcastles, I combed the beach for shark teeth. Fast forward to 2001. I was at the beach with a friend, standing in waist-deep water, preparing to dive into a wave. My friend thought someone was messing with our stuff at the beach, so we paused and looked back. When I turned my attention back to the incoming wave, I saw a six or seven-foot shark cruise through the wave in plain sight a mere three feet from me. Strangely, I wasn’t scared but rather fascinated. I stood rooted in that spot, trying to catch another glimpse of it, until my friend grabbed me by the belt loop and pulled me back to the safety of the shore. I couldn’t get over it. For a brief instance I was given a glimpse into a secret world beyond our own. I’ve never forgotten it.
But my love of sharks isn’t my only reason for loving Jaws. I also love it because of the protagonist, Chief Brody, and the predicament he finds himself in. In the movie, he is an outsider, just trying to do the right thing. All the while, he is corraled and hampered by the locals, who tell him, “That isn’t the way we do things here,” or “That never happens here,” all while he is only trying to do the right thing. No one listens until it’s too late. Only then are they willing to do what’s necessary to address the problem. It’s a theme I’ve seen play out repeatedly in the real world. That never happens here until it does. Most recently, we’ve seen it play out during the pandemic, with health officials telling us one thing and politicians on TV promising that “the country will be open by Easter.” It reminded me a little too much of the Mayor from Amity telling Chief Brody that the beaches will be open on the Fourth of July, shark attacks be damned. It speaks a lot to the novel’s writer, Peter Benchley, for his insight into human nature and to director Steven Spielberg for translating it so well to film.
Being a creative who has been involved in numerous projects, whether it be music, websites, or books, I’ve also come to appreciate Jaws from a technical perspective. You see, Jaws was a challenging movie to make. Most prominently, they created a mechanical shark to use in all the shark scenes. The problem was that the salt water broke the shark almost immediately. Due to the shark not working, Steven Spielberg had to change his plan for the movie and severely limit the shark’s screen time. This could have been a disaster in the hands of a lesser director. Spielberg could have thrown up his hands and quit. Instead, Steven Spielberg raised the bar on building suspense. It gives you small glimpses of the shark as the movie progresses, building up to the climatic reveal scene that ends with the Chief delivering that iconic line:
“You’re going to need a bigger boat.”
By limiting the shark’s screentime, Spielberg used it as a device to build anticipation, turning the perceived weakness into a strength. There’s a lot we, as creatives, could learn from this. Learning to work within limitations takes skill; turning that limitation into a strength is an even more remarkable accomplishment.
Once again, I have to mention the protagonist, Chief Brody. During the climax, we have our hero, who is afraid of the water, on a sinking boat, being menaced by a giant shark while everyone else is dead. But Brody doesn’t give up. Instead, he keeps fighting and looking for opportunities, even when everything seems hopeless. How often have we felt like giving up in the face of hopelessness? That has been a question I’ve asked myself often since the pandemic. Modern life has become increasingly complex; running a small business is also difficult, and being a writer is probably still harder. Staying motivated and trying when the world seems rigged against you is tough. In times like these, we may need to be more like the Chief, doing what we know is right and never giving up, even in the face of impending doom.
In the end, maybe that’s why Jaws has stuck with me for so long. Perhaps it’s the movie’s tribute to the human spirit and doing the right thing in the face of insurmountable odds when everyone else thinks you’re crazy. Maybe it’s the Chief facing his fears to protect his family and the island’s inhabitants, even as the islanders don’t appreciate him for his efforts. It could be all the things I’ve mentioned wrapped into one. Whatever the case, forty-nine years later, I still get excited every time I hear that ominous musical score. The indomitable human spirit, the ocean, and a giant shark; what more could you want?
– Ryan
