Jaws: 50th Anniversary - Review 

Rating: 5 out of 5

ROY Scheider’s Chief Brody thought they needed a bigger boat. I’ve always suspected I needed a bigger screen. Now, having finally seen Jaws at the cinema, I can confidently state I was right!

Steven Spielberg’s classic is a film that’s made for the cinema, where the tension, the excitement and the terrific performances can truly be savoured.

Viewed by many as one of the seminal films of all time, and the movie that gave birth to the modern blockbuster, Jaws legacy is colossal: not just in screen terms, but also for the devastating (and unintentional) effect it had on the numbers of Great White sharks in real life.

But while that over-reaction was a sad (even disgraceful) repercussion, the remainder of the film’s impact is deserved. It is a masterpiece. A film that arguably comes as close to perfection as you can get.

Not a frame feels wasted, from the opening moments involving a naked bather’s fateful night swim (all the more terrifying in IMAX) to the “smile, you son of a bitch” climax, as Brody finally lays waste to the shark.

In between, it’s crammed full of classic scenes and exchanges, both big and small. The death of the young boy who becomes the shark’s second victim is an unsettling bloodbath, one that leaves you feeling cold at the randomness of the kill. But it also gives rise to that sweeping close-up to Brody (Roy Schneider) as he looks on in horror; an early glimpse of Spielberg’s prowess with a camera.

It’s matched by the brilliantly orchestrated jump scare involving Richard Dreyfuss’ Matt Hooper, as he dives underwater to investigate a stricken boat at night-time, only for the head of another victim to suddenly pop out at him, prompting him to drop a crucial piece of evidence. On the big screen, coupled with John Williams’ iconic, sometimes jolting score, the jump shock still delivers.

Terror aside, there’s also sly political commentary, as Murray Hamilton’s Mayor Larry Vaughn steadfastly refuses to close the beaches in favour of maintaining the island’s profitability during peak summer season, thereby forsaking the safety of his townsfolk and the island’s visitors: a forebear of the capitalistic inclinations that now drive society, enhance a distrust of authority and which led to Boris Johnson (and other world leaders) being labelled as a Mayor Vaughn sycophant during the Covid pandemic.

In this regard, Spielberg’s film remains remarkably prescient.

But maybe the biggest element of Jaws’ enduring appeal lies in its strong characterisation. For while Jaws undoubtedly informed countless blockbusters across many genres (from Alien to Jurassic Park and beyond), few have learned the main lessons behind its success; opting for gore and relentless action ahead of story building and character development.

To be fair, Spielberg was constrained by the limitations posed by his now infamous shark (nicknamed Bruce on-set) and its propensity for malfunctioning. It meant the director had to follow a less is more approach, shielding the shark from view for long periods and giving more time to the human cast members.

But this works. The centre cast - Scheider, Dreyfuss and Robert Shaw (Quint) - form a formidable trio, whose time together infuses the film with even more to savour.

Their banter, their antagonism towards each other and their subsequent bonding is vintage stuff, giving rise to one of the all-time great sequences as they hit the open sea in search of the elusive beast.

The evening in question begins with Hooper and Quint comparing wounds, in suitably comical fashion. But it then takes a darker turn as one of Quint’s scars is revealed to have come from his time spent in the water following the sinking of the USS Indianapolis (the vessel that helped deliver the Atomic bomb during the closing stages of WWII).

Shaw’s delivery of the ensuing battle for survival amid shark infested waters is truly mesmerising, delivered note perfectly (a suitable mix of haunted fear and begrudging admiration) but it’s also full of memorable lines.

“You know the thing about a shark is he’s got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn’t seem to be livin’… until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then… ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin’. The ocean turns red, in spite of all the poundin’ and the hollerin’ they all come in and… they rip you to pieces.” This one chills - but it may even have informed the similarly ruthless, unsparing nature of Ridley Scott’s Alien.

Read the whole speech

I could listen and watch that speech over and over. It never seems to lose its power, no matter where you witness it.

But sequences that really deliver on the big screen are those involving the pursuit of the shark as the trio attempt to fire markers into it: again, Williams’ majestic score infuses the film with an adrenaline rush feeling that almost puts you on the boat. It’s exhilarating. The shots and camera angles are brilliant.

Jaws is such a ride that it’s almost sad when it comes to an end. I could eulogise for ages, picking out more scenes and other great dialogue excerpts.

But I’m thrilled to finally be able to say I’ve seen it as Spielberg intended. And I wouldn’t hesitate to return again.