This site is just my own tribute to Jaws. The definitive web page for fans of this film remains the site linked above, which includes multimedia, details of missing scenes, a quiz, and all kinds of great stuff.
[The Credits][The Director][The Script][The Cast][The Special Effects][The Score]
[The Editing][The Cinematography][The Critics][The Rip-Offs][Books]
Jaws (1975, 124 minutes)
Director: Steven Spielberg
Script: Peter Benchley & Carl Gottlieb (from Benchley's novel); uncredited contributions by Howard Sackler, John Milius, Robert Shaw, and Spielberg.
Cast: Roy Scheider (Martin Brody), Richard Dreyfuss (Matt Hooper), Robert Shaw (Quint), Murray Hamilton (Larry Vaughan), Lorraine Gary (Ellen Brody), Carl Gottlieb (Meadows), Jeffrey Kramer (Hendricks), Susan Backlinie (Chrissie), Peter Benchley (Reporter).
Music: John Williams
Editor: Verna Fields
Cinematography: Bill Butler
Special Effects: Bob Mattey
Production Design: Joe Alves
Awards: Academy Awards for Best Editing (Verna Fields), Best Sound (Robert Hoyt, Roger Heman, Earl Madery, John Carter), and Best Original Score (John Williams); Nominated for Best Picture (Beaten by One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest).
Jaws is the last film Steven Spielberg made when he wasn't famous, and it's the last of his films untainted by the flawed sentimentality of his later work. As much as I like some of his later films (especially E.T.), it is in these early films (Jaws, Duel, The Sugarland Express) that we can see just how good Spielberg truly is (was?). In a retrospective in honour of Jaws, Spielberg was described as America's "greatest living filmmaker," and it is in these three early works that Spielberg most justifies such a description. Largely preoccupied with the mechanics of suspense, this early, neo-Hitchcockian version of Spielberg turned out solid films for adults that are notably lacking in bright lights, gee-whiz special effects, or schmaltz. Duel is a lean, bare bones thriller that does a lot with it slight premise; The Sugarland Express is a surprisingly human road movie; but it is Jaws that is Spielberg's masterpiece. Direction doesn't get any more masterly than this. Under terrible conditions (with a mutinous crew, non-functional special effects, and an ever growing budget) Spielberg produced a thriller that is unmatched since Hitchcock.
Spielberg emptied his bag of tricks on this one, and for once his desire to please does not come across as overbearing. This is - in case you didn't pick up on my theme here - a remarkable achievement, showing talent in every aspect of his direction.
Consider:
The screenplay for Jaws is not perfect: it's a little choppy, probably reflecting the number of contributors. It was worked on by Peter Benchley (author of the source novel), Howard Sackler (novelist), John Milius (filmmaker), Robert Shaw (who played Quint, and was a writer in his own right), Carl Gottlieb (an improvisational comedian who plays Meadows in the film), and Steven Spielberg himself. Accounts vary, but the most significant contributions seem to have been made by Benchley, Sackler, and Gottlieb. The first two probably wrote the guts of the early drafts; Gottlieb seems to have done a fairly thorough rewrite late in the piece, and is probably responsible for most of the humour in the film. Milius and Shaw seem mainly to have contributed dialogue polishes, most notably to Shaw's classic Indianapolis speech. Spielberg did his own draft of the screenplay, though it's not clear to what extent this was drawn on by the other five writers. There seems to be a consensus that much of the script was revised on set by the cast and Spielberg anyway.
The chief alterations made between Benchley's novel and the script concern the character of Hooper. In the novel, Hooper is a wealthy playboy who seduces Brody's disaffected, unhappy wife. The screenplay drops this angle (though there is a hint of it in the dinner scene between Hooper and the Brodys) and also allows Hooper to escape death in the shark cage. Another major alteration is the softening of Mayor Vaughan, who in the novel actually has mob connections and is acting purely out of self interest (rather than a misguided sense of public interest). Other minor changes include various differences in victims and the situations surrounding attacks. The overall effect is to considerably soften the tone of the book, as well as streamlining the plot slightly. Benchley's Jaws is a sleazy, somewhat trashy novel, and it's hard to like any character in it (even Brody). The general ill feeling for the novel amongst critics has generally meant that unlike, say, The Color Purple, Jaws has escaped accusations of ruining the source material.
The script may "Spielbergize" the novel, but in this case, for once, that is actually a good thing. Gottlieb's humour is much needed and makes creative use of some elements of Benchley's source material; the class tension, for example, is cleverly redeployed to create comic interplay between Hooper and Quint. These sections of the script are naturalistic, but others show a more "writerly," lyrical style. John Milius' influence can be felt in some of these moments, particularly Quint's macho dialogue. The first example of this is Quint's opening moment, warning the townspeople about the formidable foe they face ("I'll find him for three; I'll catch him, and kill him... for ten.") which Gottlieb attests was written by Milius. More famous, however, is Quint's classic speech about the sinking of the Indianapolis, attributed to Shaw by Gottlieb, but by many others to Milius. It's astonishing stuff, reportedly a cut down version of an original that ran over ten pages. In his biography of Orson Welles (Rosebud), David Thomson suggests this speech was inspired by a similar speech in The Lady of Shanghai (1947).
Jaws is built around three central performances from Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss, and Robert Shaw (who, appropriately, share the same title card). Scheider is perfectly cast as Brody, the kind of fallible, everyman hero that we so rarely see in modern blockbusters. He's easy to relate to, showing us a Brody who is vulnerable, insecure, and at times fearful and ill-advised, but who is tough as nails when it really matters. He works well with Dreyfuss, who gives one of his most charismatic performances as Hooper (and Richard Dreyfuss at his most charismatic is very charismatic). Dreyfuss works wonders with some small moments, and plays both his humorous and serious moments beautifully - in some scenes, like the confrontation with the mayor, he does both simultaneously. The central trio is rounded out by Shaw. It could be argued that he's over the top as Quint, but I think it's fair enough that a professional shark hunter be eccentric and expressive. I also don't think anybody could dispute that Shaw does great things with his Indianapolis monologue.
The three principals are aided by a fine supporting cast. Lorraine Gary, as Ellen Brody, doesn't have a great deal to do, but does it well enough that any thoughts of nepotism leave your head. Murray Hamilton is the perfect Larry Vaughan: deceptive, overbearing, and villainous, yet still charismatic (just as a politician should be). And Jeffrey Kramer, as the deputy Hendricks, brings an aura of youthful uselessness to his brief scenes that are very effective in underlining Brody's lack of allies. As is always the case in a Spielberg film, the juvenile actors (Chris Rebello, Jay Mello, and Jeffrey Vorhees) are convincing too.
The special effects in Jaws have been much mocked, especially in recent years. The three mechanical sharks were created by Robert A. Mattey, a veteran physical effects technician who had created the very impressive squid for Disney's 20000 Leagues Under the Sea. The sharks were plagued with technical problems and compounded the usual problems of working at sea a great deal, causing much of the film's budget overrun. Yet if you think about the problems of creating a mechanical shark that could work fully submerged in salt water on the open ocean, I think you'll get some idea of Mattey's achievement. It's a miracle these effects worked at all: the creators of the mechanical Tyrannosaurus in Jurassic Park complained enough about having to make their creature work under light, simulated rain on a soundstage.
In fact, the shark is extremely effective in a number of shots. In its first appearance, in the pond, I think it looks magnificent, and for most of the rest of the film it is at least adequate. Most of the derision, I think, comes from the scene in which it kills Quint, in which it does look terrible. Spielberg here has to show a lot more of it than he probably wanted to, and it doesn't really stand up to the challenge. Also unfortunate is the juxtaposition of shots of real sharks with the model: they don't match well.
John Williams' score for Jaws is perhaps the most imitated in movie history, with his low bass humming as distinctive and influential as Bernard Herrman's piercing strings in Psycho. I heard distinctly reminiscent approaches used by no less a talent than Jerry Goldsmith in The Ghost and the Darkness. Yet to over-emphasise this aspect of Williams' music is somewhat unfair: there's a lot more than that. It's impossible to listen to the soundtrack album without being impressed by the rich variety across the tracks. Some ("The Indianapolis Story" and "Night Search") are subtle and understated; others, like "Chrissie's Death" and "The Underwater Siege" are appropriately brutal. Three central tracks ("Sea Attack Number One," "One Barrel Chase," and "Preparing the Cage") create the alternating moods of excited elation and tension that make the shark hunt scenes so special. An earlier track, "Promenade (Tourists on the Menu)," is one of Williams' best ever musical cues, with its surface joviality almost subliminally undercut by sly references to the shark's theme. Of the several Oscar-winning scores John Williams has composed, Jaws remains the most distinguished.
Jaws won an Oscar for its editing. I sometimes complain about this award, arguing that it was given as a way of explaining away Spielberg's direction (just as the "Best Screenplay" awards always go to films the Academy realise probably should have been given "Best Picture"). This idea has lingered: as recent a book as Christopher Tookey's excellent The Critics' Film Guide remarked that "rumour has it that the movie was rescued in the cutting room." (Tookey, to his credit, downplays this possibility). I think an attentive viewing of the film shows so much that goes beyond editing that this view is untenable, but it is a credit to editor Verna Fields that it remains superficially credible.
Two things distinguish Fields' work on this film. Firstly there's the fact that the raw footage, due to the nature of the shoot, must have been both extensive and disorganised. The final shark hunt is admirably coherent, considering these problems. On the more creative side, it has to be noticed that some of Jaws' best effects are achieved through its editing. This includes some of the obvious tricks, such as the cuts being hidden by passer-bys in the Alex Kintner sequence, or the sneaky cross-cutting that occurs between the two different underwater POVs in the lead-up to the pond attack. Yet it goes beyond that, as Fields and Spielberg are constantly, subtly using the editing to keep us off guard or meld the shots with Williams' music. As Pauline Kael noted simply, "the editing rhythms are very tricky."
I'm probably not a good person to meaningfully comment on the cinematography of the film, except to comment that Bill Butler's work is probably a key factor in creating the sense of reality that is central to Jaws; his gritty style contrasting notably with the awful, bright artificiality that Dean Cundey would bring to Jurassic Park. It's also worth noting the two major technical challenges that had to be overcome on the film. The first was the several major sequences involving underwater photography, which can't have been easy. More significant, however, were the extensive scenes on the water. Butler's work here was singled out for praise in the documentary Visions of Light, which pointed out that the final scenes of Jaws were essentially shot hand held in order to minimise the rocking of the camera.
With one exception, I have only included positive comments in this section; there were negative reviews, incredibly, but I have omitted these deluded individuals out of fairness: I am sure they've recanted their views by now and it would be unkind to dredge their past mistakes up here. Most critics, however, recognised the merits of the film, and its stature has grown over the years. In Christopher Tookey's The Critics' Film Guide, which gives a combined score derived from reviewers who give "number" or "star" marks, the film was rated 9.18 out of 10.
"...may be the most cheerfully perverse scare movie ever made.... There are parts of Jaws that suggest what Eisenstein might have done if he hadn't intellectualised himself out of reach - if he'd given in to the bourgeios child in himself. While having a drink with an older Hollywood director, I said that I'd been amazed by the assurance with which Steven Spielberg, the young director of Jaws, had toyed with the film frame. The older director said, `He must never have seen a play; he's the first one of us who doesn't think in terms of the proscenium arch. With him, there's nothing but the camera lens.'" Pauline Kael, review, 1975
"It's almost tragic that Spielberg confuses the effect [Schindler's List] has had with its quality. But he's a great director and he doesn't know that. Jaws is superb. I don't think he realises how terrific that movie was. He regards things as commercial when there's a certain greatness to them." Pauline Kael, interview, Premiere, October 1995
"...violent, nasty, crude. There was nothing in the picture that was personal to me. It was a calculated movie. I made each cut with glee, knowing the effect that it would have on the audience. I don't ever want to be involved in another picture like that." Steven Spielberg, 1978, quoted in John Baxter's imaginatively titled 1996 biography Steven Spielberg.
"The opening sequence is a classic of cinema, as are several other moments... Spielberg - still in his twenties when he made this - shows his talent for creating suspense, delivering shocks, defusing situations through humour, and building up to a great climax." Christopher Tookey, The Critics' Film Guide
"This is by far the best nature retribution film since The Birds... The fun and tension are constant, there are thrills, there are terrifying scenes, there is humour, there's even a Watergate cover-up theme. There are few horror films in which you'll so identify with potential victims... First attack is a shocker, the entire boat sequence is nerve-wracking. Solid performances from the three leads... give this film real class." Danny Peary, Guide for the Film Fanatic
"A rare case of a bubble-gum story... scoring as a terrific movie." Leonard Maltin, Movie and Video Guide
"Director Steven Spielberg caused as many people to stay out of the water as Alfred Hitchcock did with his Psycho shower scene. Today the film still stands as one of the best of its kind... the casting here is perfect, and all production credits are terrific." Cinebooks, The Motion Picture Guide.
"It is one of the dozen or so greatest
American movies of the past quarter century. Within seconds of the
film's start, one thing is clear: it is
directed by a genius...The greatness of Jaws lies in more than
technique. Spielberg's chief gift, probably unrivalled in movie
history, is his extraordinary feel for people... The characters in Jaws
have a lived in richness and reality totally absent from the glossy
ciphers of more recent blockbusters." Quentin Curtis, Quoted from
The Telegraph in The Age, June 2000.
"Probably Spielberg knows that Jaws' brand of sly comedy cannot be
planned, and he has never attempted anything like it again. He has made
films which are more personal to him, but never anything more personal
to his talent - and it's Spielberg's talent, not his taste, which we
can trust. Jaws is his
nimblest, crispest and best film, and being so light and foxy, still
underrated. It's a minor classic. Or, as we tend to put it, a modern
classic." Antonia Quirke, Jaws
"...like Coppola on The Godfather, Spielberg asserted
his own role and deftly organized the elements of a roller coaster
entertainment without sacrificing inner meanings. The suspense of the
picture came from meticulous technique and good humor about its own
surgical cutting. You have only to submit ot the travesty of Jaws 2 to realize how much more
engagingly Spielberg saw the ocean, the perils, and the sinister beauty
of the shark, and the vitality of its human opponents."
Of course, the whole monster / creature on the loose eating / killing people genre is very large, and does not originate with Jaws, so there are many films in this genre that I won't cover here. The films listed below are just those that show a particularly strong Jaws influence, in one way or another. Sequels are first: others are in chronological order. I am aware of two obvious early rip-offs not covered here, Orca and Alligator. I've seen Alligator, but a long time ago, and I want to see it again before covering it. I'll cover Orca eventually too, but it might take me a while to work up the energy.
Jaws 2 (Jeannot Szwarc), 1978
The closest Jaws had to a genuine sequel at least tries to be faithful to its roots. Apart from the crucial absences of Dreyfuss and Shaw, most of the cast is back (right down to some very minor parts) and it retains the Amity setting. This means Szwarc was at least able to establish some sense of continuity with the original: it's somehow comforting to see the Amity community still there in the opening scenes. John Williams returned, as well, and gives the film a score far better than it deserves. Yet Jaws 2 is really sunk by its cynical targetting of the teenage market. Brody's children have been put on some kind of growth hormone and have aged about eight to ten years, placing them smack bang in what the studio executives obviously thought was the target age group. So now they and their obnoxious friends become the targets of a new improved Bruce Mark 2. It might have got away with it if it had presented some kind of decent climax, but the last half is terrible, with the teenage cast floating listlessly in between getting picked off. It's called Jaws 2, incidentally, because the shark tends to eat two people at a time.
Jaws 3D (Joe Alves), 1983
Odd sorta-sequel directed by the original film's production designer, of all people. I've never seen it in 3D, but I suspect it sucks in that format to - how exciting can a floating severed fish head be? Unwisely dumps the setting and all the characters from the first two films, though it does claim its two heroes are Michael and Sean Brody (I guess they haven't let up on that hormone). The shark is even bigger this time, and out to take revenge on the people who killed its child (don't ask), but it is actually far less effective: in one attack all it manages to inflict is a shallow cut on one leg. I can only presume this doesn't feature too higly on the resume of either Dennis Quaid or Lea Thompson.
Jaws: The Revenge (Joseph Sargent), 1987
Once again we get Michael and Sean Brody as adults (not played by the same people, of course), though one gets killed off pretty quickly (I think it's Sean, but who knows). The death of her son leads Ellen Brody (Lorraine Gary, inexplicably, reprises her role from parts 1 and 2) to conclude the shark is out to kill her whole family. In one of the better moments, she claims it also killed Martin Brody, despite the fact he apparently died of a heart attack. To get away from it all, she flies to the Bahamas (good thinking), but the shark follows her plane! Michael Caine proves he'll star in anything by turning up as a pilot, Hoagie, but the film is gone before he lands. It's hard to say which is worse, this or number 3, but the absurd climax probably puts this over the edge. Not only does the explosion that kills the shark look suspiciously like it was filmed in a bathtub, but it's not even clear what caused it, so the shark appears to have been killed by... a flashback. Surely this can't be the same Joseph Sargent who made the classic The Taking of Pelham One-Two-Three. It is, however, good for a laugh, which isn't so true of Alves' film.
Duel (Steven Spielberg), 1971
Okay - it came out first and is therefore obviously not a rip-off. But I want this to be a list of films that people might try if they want to relive the fun of Jaws, and Spielberg's warm-up act certainly comes close. It's a tighter film than Jaws, but more limited in scope: it doesn't have the humour or the local colour. Purely judged as an exercise in supense, however, it is of comparable quality. Dennis Weaver is the henpecked hero on a cross-country trip who runs foul of a seemingly homicidal truck driver. It's a very slight situation, but Spielberg and scriptwriter Richard Matheson develop it credibly into a tension packed fight to the death. Spielberg's direction is everything, here, and it's at its best.
Piranha (Joe Dante), 1978
Joe Dante's opportunistic send-up / rip-off crosses Jaws with a fifties science fiction movie to create quite an entertaining package. Scripted by John Sayles, it jokily portrays the havoc caused when government bred piranhas get loose in the waterways. The attacks are somewhat awkwardly staged, and the jokes often seem like an excuse not to do a good job of the film, but there are some genuinely effective sequences. The Dick Miller holiday camp sequence may well have inspired the makers of Jaws 3D. Future stop-motion supremo (and Jurassic Park "dinosaur supervisor") Phil Tippett contributes some animated creatures. Reportedly one of Spielberg's favorite Jaws rip-offs.
Arachnophobia (Frank Marshall), 1990
Entertaining Spielberg produced killer-spider film that owes a lot to Jaws in plot and tone. Most of the major characters have a Jaws equivalent, and the small town setting is also familiar. Too silly in spots to be a real winner, but a damn fine attempt. The opening sequences look like a location shoot for Jurassic Park.
Tremors (Ron Underwood), 1990
My favourite of all the Jaws inspired films, this tale of killer worms that burrow underground is both funny and exciting, though it emphasises humour more than Jaws did. Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward make a great comedy team, and they're backed by a strong supporting cast that includes Michael Gross (from "Family Ties") and future Jurassic Park co-star Ariana Richards. Underwood gets a great sense of kinetic energy in the cleverly staged worm attacks, with the dud climax being the film's only major problem.
Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg), 1993
Spielberg returned after eighteen years to the genre that made him the king of Hollywood, and my hopes were high in 1993 that he would justify my belief that he was the greatest suspense director alive. In a way I was vindicated: there are individual sequences in JP that are classics (the T-Rex attack, the stalking of the kids in the kitchen). Yet overall the film is undeniably disappointing. The script feels unfinished, is too juvenile in focus (I wish those kids would just get eaten by something), and doesn't really solve the narrative problems it inherits from Michael Crichton's typically dumb source novel. The climax (which was apparently altered during production to allow a reappearance by the T-Rex) is also abrupt and unsatisfying.
The Ghost and the Darkness (Stephen Hopkins), 1996
I was actually told off in a cinema tute when I mentioned that I'd seen this film, and some of the reviews were surprisingly negative too. I'm not sure why: it's actually quite a good piece of work, and it rises above the unlikely casting. Val Kilmer is an engineer assigned to build a bridge in Africa, but work is halted when a pair of killer lions develop a taste for human flesh. Michael Douglas plays a Quint-like big game hunter called in to solve the problem. The special effects are outstanding, making the lions more convinving as opponents than I thought they would be. But it's William Goldman's smart, witty script and Stephen Hopkins' canny work as director that really win you over. There are several great suspense sequences here, and one absolutely brilliant moment that knocked me for six even the second time I saw it. The film's strong indebtedness to Jaws (both in plot and style) is reinforced by several moments that - to me at least - play as tributes.
The Lost World (Steven Spielberg), 1997
After taking a good, long hard look at himself, Spielberg took another crack at Jurassic Park and did a much better job of it. David Koepp has streamlined the source novel (Michael Crichton's, not Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's) and eliminated JP's more aggravating elements. The effects are more spectacular, but its the way Spielberg uses them that really counts. Several sequences (the dinosaur safari, the escape from the trailer, the goofy final half hour) are minor classics. Still lacking the all-round perfection of Jaws - particularly in the second half, which makes far less sense than the start - but a welcome return to form for Spielberg. Even John Williams' music is better the second time out.
Lake Placid (Steve Miner), 1999
Jaws reworked as a crocodile movie by David E. Kelley, of "Ally McBeal" fame. Like Tremors, this is a small film that emphasises humour a lot more than Jaws. It's no masterpiece, mainly because Kelley and director Steve Miner never really make the croc attacks very interesting. (Miner is a veteran of the Friday the Thirteenth series, and doesn't rise above the most obvious of low-level horror techniques, such as suddenly having things pop up at our heroes). It also - again like Underwood's film - is undermined by a disappointing climax. Yet some of the character moments are fun, and the croc effects (utilising CGI and a Stan Winston mechanical version) are impressive: much better, in fact than the shark effects in the far higher budgeted Deep Blue Sea. This is one of the better sub-Jaws films, not quite matching Tremors but up there with The Ghost and the Darkness and Arachnaphobia.
Deep Blue Sea (Renny Harlin), 1999
Appalling travesty that actually owes
far more to Jurassic Park than Jaws: it's a worrying
sign when they can't pick the right film to plagiarise. The film is a
mess, with terrible performances, a dull
script, and a promising (if incredible) setup completely wasted. The
effects
are interesting: while the animatronic sharks are very impressive, the
computer generated stuff is for the most part even faker than the worst
shots in Jaws. Glad we waited all that time for the new
technology, and hope that this nixes those rumours of a CGI enhanced
special edition of the original masterpiece.
There are three specifically Jaws focussed books that any fan should have in their library. One is excellent, one is pretty good, and the final is disappointing but nevertheless an important source of information.
Nigel
Andrews On Jaws, (Nigel
Andrews, 1999, Bloomsbury)
If you buy only one book on Jaws, make this it: Andrews has
written the definitive appreciation. Scholarly yet accessible, this
book covers the production stories, the contributions of all the major
cast and crew, and includes a fascinating selection of the storyboards.
But it's Andrews' analysis of the film that really distinguishes the
book. Andrews moves past the complacent acceptance of the film at face
value that characterises many other reviews and really looks at it,
noting such items as the recurring Spielberg motif of fences, or the
creative use of the colour yellow. It's available in two formats, a
conventional paperback and a weird smaller version: get the larger
format if you can, as the storyboards come up better.
Jaws (Antonia Quirke, 2002, BFI Publishing)
"When I first started thinking about
writing a book on Jaws,"
admits Antonia Quirke in her contribution to the BFI series of film
studies, "I popped out to the shops and quickly discovered that someone
else had written it." It's refreshingly honest of her to admit this,
but
perhaps a little close to the bone, because her own volume on the film
seems to suffer from the attempt not to duplicate what Andrews has
written. The book is structured as a series of musings in response to a
scene by scene run through of the film, and Quirke consistently aims
for a fresh perspective. This means her observations are
interesting and original, but not as grounded as Andrews' study: she
seems compelled to stick to the left-field at the expense of the
obvious but important. Still, it's well worthwhile and beautifully,
evocatively written.
The Jaws Log: 25th Anniversary
Edition (Carl
Gottlieb, 1975 / 2001, Newmarket Press, New York)
Written in 1975, right after the film was made, Gottlieb's account of
the film's making has been revised for
the new edition through addition of a new introduction (by Peter
Benchley), a foreword by Gottlieb, some great set photos, and copious
endnotes that
predominantly recount events since the book was first written. The
result,
unfortunately, has neither the strengths of a fresh eyewitness account
nor
a considered opinion made with the benefit of hindsight. The 1975
material
(the body of the text) seems overly keen not to offend anyone,
resulting
in strange and inconsistent self-censorship: on page 46 Gottlieb grants
anonymity
to the second screenwriter on the project (Howard Sackler), apparently
at
Sackler's request, but on Page 137 he goes ahead and names him
regardless.
He is also unrelentingly eager to promote the movie, which at the time
was
still in cinemas, and which the 1975 incarnation of Gottlieb tends to
assume
we haven't seen. (Speaking of the mix of real and mechanical shark
footage
he earnestly informs us that we'll "never be able to guess what footage
was
shot where." Hmmm.)
Throughout Gottlieb maintains a condescending tone, assuming little
knowledge on behalf of the reader. This comes across very badly,
particularly read today, when there is such widespread dissemination of
information about film production. The 2001 material is little better
in this respect, and doesn't add any significant observations in
hindsight (except to stir the ongoing argument about who wrote the Indianapolis
speech: Gottlieb has always argued for Robert Shaw). Most
critically, however, the book never really captures
the desperation that sets in on a troubled film set - Gottlieb tells us
that
everyone was miserable, but you don't really feel it. It isn't nearly
as good an account of a runaway production as Steven Bach's Final Cut.
(More complete reviews for many of the films discussed on this page can be found at my main Cinephobia site)
