Jaws (1975) Rewind

‘The shark is not working, the shark is not working’.

This is the message JAWS star Richard Dreyfuss remembers being called out frequently on the set of the 1975 classic. The film production, entirely at the behest of a garish model shark, lived and died by the whims of a foam based demon of the deep that frequently caused severe headaches for art production staff, director Steven Spielberg and the cast.

Spielberg has since attributed quality of the final film to the repeated delays. Saying they inadvertently gave him time to reappraise the script and work with the actors more closely. It’s tough for a viewer to see that development because we weren’t out in the pissing rain on a boat in the Atlantic Ocean (Spielberg insisted on filming on the high seas rather than a studio tank or placid lake) but what we can clearly see is that this film has merit beyond the modern view of it being a movie great for cheap thrills, ‘it was scary then’, and laughing at a crap shark model whilst guzzling popcorn. A view your correspondent had slipped into subscribing to before taking another look when the film was re-released for a limited time on the big screen this summer.

JAWS has a strange place in popular culture. It is the kind of film everybody has seen or at least thinks they have. Unless you truly love it, you half remember it. The visions of people scrambling over one another on the east coast beaches of the US from a looming fin in the water are so ubiquitous that even those who haven’t seen it probably think they have. ‘You’re gunna need a bigger boat’, ‘they caught A shark not THE shark’ and ‘it wasn’t any propeller! It wasn’t any coral reef! And it wasn’t Jack the Ripper! It was a shark!’ are all famous, endlessly quotable lines.

The iconic scenes you remember are all there but they pop up like flotsam amongst the ones you might not. The stuff in between is good and whilst not exactly revelatory it does form part of masterful cinematic tapestry of tension. The film is split into two distinct parts. The first swims along with plenty of entertaining fluff that sets up the drama with relatively basic scripting. Here we see white collar Americans shout at one another for 30 minutes or, seemingly, forever. We meet the sheriff scared of the sea, the precocious upstart oceanographer and a sleazy mayor who puts money above potential loss of life. It’s not that all of this characterisation isn’t useful later, it’s just that the script is a little on the nose.

Pleasingly this is offset by the occasional shark attack. The attacks are handled superbly and evidence that camera work informed by simple, well thought out principles always trumps slapdash use of gaudy special effects plastered on like a Parisian whore’s make up. The deadly fish isn’t shown but it’s handy work is always apparent via the flailing of arms above the surface and pools of crimson that unfurl through the ripples like a deadly carnivorous flower. A classic example of the truism of the notion that not seeing the ‘monster’ is always scarier than having it presented to you straight away. Tension is ramped up, you’re reeled to the edge of your seat, aided by the jabbing, sudden orchestration of John Williams’ iconic soundtrack that bagged him an Oscar.

The composition of the shots surrounding the first two attacks are excellent. The victim is always alone and framed by the vastness of the sea and sky behind them, velvet blues and inky blacks forming a canvas of despair against which the maniacal, sharp toothed villain splatters gore. Shots including the shoreline are always seen through the prism of the despairing, panicked or oblivious holiday makers. Further delineating the shore, the safe haven, from the danger zone of the sea. Similarly, in the first half, we never dip below the surface of the water. Our worldview is strictly limited to things above it. Things are so tightly wound that the appearance of a dodgy shark model may puncture the anticipation for the audience but, in these early stages, we never dip below the surface of the water. Our worldview is strictly limited to things above it.

The second half is the most interesting and probably the stuff that is most easily forgotten by many. Richard Dreyfuss, Roy Scheider and Robert Shaw all deliver good performances and whilst shooting at sea may have been a production nightmare it aids the atmosphere of the film. Helping establish and maintain a feeling of isolation and loneliness in the vast ocean blue for the audience because, well, they were. The real life struggles of the trio, all personally engrossed by various vices, in getting along whilst filming this portion of the movie is now legendary. However difficult it may have been for them privately professionally it led to some of their best work on camera. Characters are confined to the deck and claustrophobic cabin of a boat for their interactions and the script is taut. The pace of the film becomes more deliberate and all the better for it.

Jaws is not just a film about a shark. It’s a film about facing long held fears, male companionship and speaking truth to power. It’s a film with great camera work, a classic score and it remains the benchmark for fin-based cinematic fayre.

‘The shark is working, the shark is working’.