July 4th - Indianapolis Edition

It's the 4th of July, and in my world, that means that sometime today, I re-watch Jaws.

Originally, Jaws was a novel written by Peter Benchley (The Deep, The Island) and published in 1974. Benchley took the deep dive into everything having to do with sharks, combing through every bit of data available at the time about shark behavior in order to bring gritty realism to this masterpiece. Even after he wrote Jaws, Benchley continued his study of sharks, going on expeditions with scientists and filmmakers in order to expand knowledge of these amazing creatures. He became a conservationist, working with governments and nonprofit organizations to educate them on the plight of sharks being targeted for shark fin soup.

The 1975 film created a terror of sharks with its signature soundtrack written by composer John Williams (Raiders of the Lost Ark, Jurassic Park, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Minority Report). The instant recognition of the signature first notes, "da-dum, da-dum!" are now indelibly linked in our collective psyche as a sign of unseen danger and a bloody end.

For me, though, this film brought what is arguably one of the best monologues in cinema history.

I can't imagine I've never waxed poetic about The Indianapolis speech, so I won't go into great detail here. I will, however, state that Robert Shaw's delivery and pacing on this monologue is an actor's education in character. The shock on Richard Dreyfuss' face as he realizes that Quint survived that horrific event is portrayed flawlessly, and sets up Quint's monologue beautifully.

For those unaware, the U.S.S. Indianapolis remains one of the worst and most horrifying recorded shark attack events in history. 

The Indianapolis was sunk in the Pacific ocean during World War II, and the crew fought to stay alive for the four days it took to rescue them. In that four days, they fought off starvation and the sharks who came in droves, drawn by the blood in the water from those dead and wounded in the sinking of the ship. You can see a memoir from one of the survivors here.

Happy 4th of July, y'all. And maybe, just for today, stay out of the water...

Reflections on "Jaws"

Photo via Justinbog.com. Original copyright Universal Studios

Over the weekend, Mr. ShellHawk was channel surfing and happened to land on one of my all-time favorite movies, Jaws. Jaws, of course, was based on the book of the same name, written by Peter Benchley.

I'm of the opinion that Jaws is one of the most perfect films ever made. It's got action, scares, family interest, tension, naked girls and blood--pretty much everything you could want in a film. The pacing of the film, in my opinion, is perfect, the dialogue and interplay of the actors easy and unpretentious.

I love it. I own it on DVD and pull it out every so often while I'm glazing or sculpting to keep me company.

Iconic image of the poor hippie girl about to get eaten. It still scares
the crap out of me! Image via AwardsDaily.com

Anyway, Mr. ShellHawk and I watched for a while, and I mentioned-not for the first time-the film's perfection. Then another thought struck me:

"This is one of those films that they could never re-make to be as good as the original."

He looked at me for a minute, then nodded in agreement. He knew where I was going with my thought process, a side benefit of having been together for eleven years.

You see, if this perfect movie were remade today, it would be utterly and completely ruined. First, we'd likely be stuck with Michael Bay as the director, and the film would be so effects-heavy that the story line would be incidental. And the story itself? Completely rewritten to make it a senseless teen flick.

Quint's character, for instance, would likely be completely different. He'd be made over into a thirty-something hottie like Adam Levine. He'd be in a twelve-step program, deeply sensitive, and he'd cry at the drop of a hat.

Quint's landmark "Indianapolis" speech would be made over completely, having been deemed too old fashioned and inaccessible to today's teens.

The motivation for his obsessive hatred of sharks would stem from a story about how he knocked his fiancee-who was pregnant with twins- off his luxury yacht in a drunken display of clumsiness, where she was eaten by a shark within seconds of hitting the water. This would be told with tears rolling down his face and would spell out for us why he's in a twelve-step program, because we wouldn't be considered smart enough to figure it out for ourselves.

The shark, itself, wouldn't be the mechanical monster, Bruce, that we all know and love. It would be a CGI extravaganza, and would appear in every scene, even photobombing police chief Martin Brody in his living room. We would see him so much and know so much of his tortured upbringing by his single mother shark that we would identify with him and feel that the persecution of this poor creature is nothing short of cruel.

(Those of you who know something about the trouble Spielberg had with Bruce's mechanical malfunctions will remember that those problems, themselves, made the shark more threatening, as his presence was, perforce, suggested and not seen until much later in the film.)

Brody, himself, would, of course, be divorced and trying to start life over with his twin girls. They would be slutty-looking teenage nightmares, giving poor old dad a hard time about moving away from Los Angeles and all their friends to this little podunk town in, say, Arkansas. (Yes, I know there's no ocean in Arkansas, but Hollywood people would invent one, anyway!) 

Click on the pic for Chrissie's last swim. Be warned! It is uncut!

One of the twins, Chrissie, would be a meth addict and fall in the water and consumed at the beginning of the movie, replacing the original Chrissie's death scene and giving her surviving twin, Ashleigh, a reason to be the one on the boat when she kills the shark with a diamond-studded tube of Guerlain lipstick. We would see all of Chrissie's "charms," as the scene would take place in broad daylight so we can watch her strip tease.

In the closing scene, when Ashleigh and Brody get rescued by a grown up Jeffrey Voorhees (he played Alex Kintner, the boy on the yellow inflatable who got eaten by the shark.) doing a cameo for the film dorks who might actually show up to see this new piece of garbage, she would tell her father that she knew that $62,000 lipstick would come in handy, and wasn't he sorry that he gave her such a hard time about wanting it? Of course, he would agree with her and offer to sell both kidneys to help her buy another tube.

Poor Matt Hooper would be the comic relief/annoying environmentalist who keeps nagging at Quint and Brody that the shark must be caught alive and transported to a marine sanctuary for re-conditioning and released back into the wild as a vegetarian. We are relieved when he is, at last, eaten by the shark, sans carrots.

The studio would then feel obliged to make ten more movies for the franchise, each of them more costly than the rest...

Ape, frolicking with Robert Shaw's model at last
month's Monsterpalooza.

I guess you can tell by now that I'm not into remaking old film for the sake of it. Movies like Jaws, in my mind, are sacrosanct. Remaking them, particularly in today's found-footage and laborious exposition-heavy movie-making style, would just kill the whole thing. Most of today's audiences who are not fans of the movie would laugh at Bruce, because he wasn't CGI, and all other manner of disconnects would occur. 

*sigh*

Hmm... I have some glazing to do today. Perhaps I'll have to plug this in for another watch!

Vintage Universal Studios Hollywood

I swear, I never worked there in Food Service as a teenager. (O.K., I did.) I also swear, I never was caught sneaking onto the back lot and into the tour, either. (Never convicted, Sir. Never convicted...)

But Pumpkinrot's recent post brought this to mind, and being as how this is Summer (though not the 4th of July weekend), and the last "living" Bruce has been found, I had to share this, circa 1989:

Jaws

Summertime. 4th of July. A greedy mayor and a hungry fish. One of the all-time most perfect movies, ever. Ever, baby!

I personally cannot believe that it's been over thirty years since this movie was made and scared the pants off of everyone. I was too young to see this in the theater, but if they ever do a re-release in the theater (as they did with The Exorcist), I will be there. I'm sure it will be an amazing experience!

I'm just bummed I didn't know about the 30th anniversary edition before I bought my copy on DVD. Oh, well. Get it here.

I'll be taking some time off to join my Grandmother for her 100th birthday, so I'll catch you on the 20th! Pray for me, y'all. It'll be some strange and potentially traumatic family time. Thank God I'll be near my favorite Irish pub! I'm also hoping to catch Dead Snow while I'm down in L.A., so maybe the trauma will be mitigated...