JAWS: 45th Anniversary 4K UHD Blu-ray (Universal, 1975) Universal Home Video
The first of the irrefutable ‘summer blockbusters’,
and the one to make us afraid of go back into the water, Steven Spielberg’s Jaws
(1975) remains a seminal work in American cinema, perhaps not so much for its
plot or character development (both very fine in their own right, indeed) but
because in hindsight, the movie ushered in an era of the mega-watt heavy-hitter
that, ever since its release, has been the aim of every major studio hoping to
rake in the profits between Memorial and Labor Day. Jaws forever changed
the way the industry made sense of the business of mass-marketing movies. And
while both the picture’s impact and longevity cannot be overestimated, at the
time of its release, Jaws was practically considered nothing greater
than the proverbial ‘one that got away’ fish story no one – not even its
co-producers, David Brown and Richard Zanuck could have fathomed was going to
swamp the competition at the box office. Like so many movies produced in that
rare silver-age epoch, in which the old Hollywood had drawn its final gasps,
and, the new Hollywood, not yet entirely certain what the future held, the
studios – faced with dwindling profits and an uneven spate of movies that could
either spectacularly hit or miss with disastrous results – were basically
willing, nee desperate, to take chances. There was no template for Jaws
– no benchmark, no barometer to predict whether or not a movie about a shark
eating people would register with audiences. Movies about other perils at sea –
natural, man-made or supernatural - were basically fodder for the ‘B’ syndicate
and Saturday ‘kiddie’ matinee. In fact, years later, David Brown insisted, had
he the opportunity to re-read the manuscript more than once, his enthusiasm likely
would have cooled to the point of cancelling his option on Jaws as it was
a movie fraught with technical challenges dwarfed by its rather minuscule
budget.
The movie is very loosely based on Robert Benchley’s
novel of the same name. Zanuck and Brown optioned the story for $175,000 while
it was still in galleys. But very quickly it became clear to both producers,
Benchley’s multi-narrative approach would have to be distilled into more
straight forward screenwriting prose. Zanuck and Brown first contacted John
Sturges to direct. But he so incensed the pair by chronically referring to the
fish in the story as a whale instead of a shark he quickly fell out of their
favor. Enter Steven Spielberg, who had already directed Sugarland Express
(1974) for the pair and also had read Benchley’s manuscript. Spielberg came to
the project well versed – perhaps a little too intensely. He astutely reasoned Benchley
had created a novel with some fairly disreputable characters. These would have
to be softened, omitted or extensively revised before Spielberg would commit to
the project. Zanuck and Brown wholeheartedly agree. But Spielberg also had
another suggestion. Basically, he did not care to shoot the novel as written,
but wanted to do the sea hunt (the last third) and a complete revision of the
first two thirds of the story. After some consternation, Benchley was brought
in to re-conceive his story for the screen. He offered Spielberg three extensive
revisions – none entirely satisfying. Undaunted, Spielberg turned to some
fairly weighty writing talent and was all but turned down flat for his efforts.
At this point, Spielberg began to have second thoughts about directing Jaws,
fearing he would be typecast as a director of fantasy/horror.
Zanuck and Brown made Spielberg a very sweet offer to
remain on the project and Spielberg, in turn, found a kindred spirit in friend,
Carl Gottlieb, who agreed to infuse the screenplay with some wittier lines and
more humor. Eventually, Gottlieb rewrote roughly two thirds of the final draft
from scratch. As such very little remained of Benchley’s narrative and many of
his central characters underwent enormous changes from page to screen. Zanuck and Brown wanted ‘name’ talent to
headline the cast. Spielberg balked at using stars, first because their salary
would put a needless strain on the budget, but more importantly, because he
felt anonymity would be more effective for the narrative. Reluctantly, Robert
Duvall was offered the role of Police Chief Brody. He was quickly dropped from
consideration after the actor informed the company, he was only interested in
playing Quint. Charlton Heston made it known he too was interested in Quint. Again,
Spielberg pressed for inconspicuousness and was rewarded for his obstinacy when
Roy Scheider came up for the role. Although Scheider – a former amateur boxer,
had made a name for himself in Friedkin’s The French Connection (1971),
and had worked steadily ever since, he had not broken through with audiences
and was not ‘a star’ per say. Moreover, he possessed an earthy quality
Spielberg felt bode well with the role of the relaxed police chief.
The roles of Quint and Hooper would remain vacant
right up until principle photography began. Some heavy hitters backed away at
the eleventh hour, including Lee Marvin and John Voight – whom Spielberg had
desperately wanted for Hooper – also, Jeff Bridges. Eventually, Robert Shaw
warmed to the idea of playing Quint – encouraged by his wife. Richard Dreyfuss
came recommended by George Lucas, who had already used the actor to good effect
in 1973’s American Graffiti. Dreyfuss was not all that enthused about
committing to the project until he viewed rushes from his latest film, The
Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz (1974) and was so appalled by his
performance he sincerely feared no one would hire him once that movie was
released. Spielberg encouraged Dreyfuss to not read Benchley’s novel as Hooper
had been extensively rewritten by Gottlieb so nothing of the original character
but the name remained.
Cast and crew began shooting Jaws in Martha’s
Vineyard on May 2, 1974 where Spielberg quickly realized his problems were just
beginning. The mechanical sharks – affectionately nicknamed ‘Bruce’ were
technological disasters that failed to perform convincingly on camera. As such,
Spielberg was forced to improvise the shark attacks with specially created
submersible equipment that simulated the perspective of the great white as it
approached its victims from beneath the waves. Today, many people forget that
the only time the mechanical shark marks its debut is during the sea hunt
sequence – the last shot before cast and crew returned home to Hollywood. Even
then, ‘Bruce’ is used sparingly, the camera focusing on close-ups of the
terrified actors and long shots of an ominous fin barely cresting above the
waves. The trick and the magic of these shortcomings is that, while technically
limiting, from a purely visceral standpoint they generated nail-biting tension.
Who can forget the film’s opener, shot in moonlit nudity, as stunt woman, Susan
Backlinie feels an ominous tug from beneath the calm waters? Or the sequence
that unfolds as a playful afternoon at the beach, turned bloody after the brief
glimpse of a fin suddenly overturns a child on his inflatable raft while the
rest of the sun worshipers helplessly look on. Realizing the unseen is far more
devastating to the human psyche, Spielberg tapped into our collective fear of
the unknown for Jaws, applying Hitchcock’s maxim from Psycho (1960),
to show the audience very little and thus allow their imagination to run wild. So, ostensibly, the best moments in Jaws play in our heads.
The screenplay, co-credited to Gottlieb and Benchley,
opens with the disappearance of Chrissie Watkins (Susan Backlinie), a spirited
teen who leaves a beach party to go skinny-dipping along the coast of Amity
Island and is never heard from again. Deputy Hendricks (Jeffrey C. Kramer)
finds the girl’s remains twenty-four hours later, eaten and entangled in some
ship’s tackle strewn along the dunes. The medical examiner (Robert Nevin)
concludes what Police Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) already knows: Chrissie
was the victim of a brutal shark attack. Brody shares his findings with town
council, but is encouraged by Mayor Vaughn (Murray Hamilton) to keep this
discovery under wraps. Like most of the vendors on Amity Island, Vaughn is
worried news of a great white will ruin the summer tourist trade. Against
Brody’s better judgement, he remains silent about Chrissie’s death, garnering
support from his wife, Ellen (Lorraine Gray) who also keeps the findings from
their two young sons, Michael (Chris Rebello) and Sean (Jay Mello). Amity
welcomes its first round of seasonal visitors to its July 4th respite. Unaware
of the looming danger, the crowds go into the water, including Alex Kintner
(Jeffrey Voorhees) who is suddenly swallowed up as Brody and the rest of the
panicked masses look on. Learning of the previous incident, the boy’s mother,
Mrs. Kintner (Lee Fierro) blames Brody for her son’s death. Guilt-ridden, Brody
challenges Vaughn to be more proactive. A local fisherman, Quint (Robert Shaw)
offers to lead the hunt for the murderous fish with Brody and marine biologist,
Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) determined to get in on the action.
The trio board Quint’s fishing boat, the Orca, and
head into open waters. The trip is uneventful – at first. But when Brody tosses
fresh chum into the sea, he is confronted by a terror more magnificent than any
he could have imagined on shore. Quint attempts to harpoon the shark but fails.
The fish goes away, leaving the men to contemplate their next course of action.
That night, Quint relays his tale of survival after the sinking of the USS
Indianapolis during the war. It begins to don on Hooper and Brody that Quint is
not altogether a stable fellow. These suspicions are confirmed the following
day when Quint deliberately destroys the ship’s radio as Brody attempts to
contact the Coast Guard for additional help. The great white resurfaces and
Quint harpoons another barrel into the beast. The men grab hold of the line,
hoping to bring the shark to the surface and suffocate it. Instead, it drags
the Orca’s stern deeper into the sea, causing water to flood its decks. In
desperation, Hooper enters a shark proof cage with a spear full of strychnine.
Jaws strikes the cage and Hooper drops the spear without ever getting the
opportunity to defend himself. The great white leaps onto the boat deck,
tearing the back off the Orca and chewing Quint in two before dragging him
under the waves. Mortally wounded, the Orca founders. Brody manages to jam a
scuba tank into the shark’s mouth. He fires a round from his rifle into its
compressed canister and the fish is blown to bits. Only afterwards does Brody
realize he is not alone. Hooper surfaces amid the Orca’s debris. The two regard
one another in their victory with a hearty laugh and begin to dog paddle back
to shore.
Viewed today, Jaws has lost none of its
primeval energy. Spielberg’s attention to pacing, his detailed subterfuge at keeping
‘Bruce’, the mechanical shark, hidden from view until the very last act,
creates an ever-mounting atmosphere of uncertainty that expertly plays on our
collective fear of both the water and the creatures that lurk beneath its
relatively calm surface. From this disquieting vantage, Spielberg calibrates
the tension into a seat-squirming climax before unleashing his frenzied finale,
using a series of proficiently edited jump cuts that give the audience their
fleeting glimpses of that terror of the sea. Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss,
Robert Shaw and Murray Hamilton all do their part to add layers of
verisimilitude. But the reluctant star of Jaws is arguably Bruce, the
mechanical shark. In his absence (due to technical snafus), Spielberg applies a
very old tried and true formula that peaks our fascination for the unseen: the
Mr. Woo approach to film-making. Basically, the first two thirds of Jaws
baits the audience with the prospect of seeing a great white up close and
personal. We are so acutely attuned to this promise that when ‘Bruce’ finally
does make his debut the sheer size and spectacle of this violent eating machine
is enough to rattle us from our chairs. Spielberg is ably aided in his
restraint by composer, John Williams’ memorably pensive score, its repetitive
two-note structure faintly reminiscent of Bernard Herrmann’s grating strings in
Hitchcock’s Psycho. Watching Jaws with its soundtrack turned off,
one is immediately reminded of Williams’ monumental contribution. His music
creates a disturbing visual for the audience from nothing more than a few
underwater panning shots of the sea bed. None of the Jaws sequels,
except maybe Jaws 2 (1978) seems to have learned this trick in creative
concealment. Instead, with each passing installment we are given more blood in
the water. But Spielberg’s classic does not appeal to our need for gore and
that is perhaps most commendable of all. Instead, Spielberg transforms what
might otherwise have been a thoroughly pedestrian horror movie into the epitome
of a good fright had by all.
In 2012, Universal Home Video unleashes a meticulously
restored Blu-ray edition of Jaws perfectly timed to celebrate the studio’s
100th anniversary in picture-making. The results were so good, in fact,
that many pondered how much better Jaws could look in 4K UHD. Well, the
answer to that question is – considerably. The Blu-ray – while exemplary – in light
of this newly minted 4K remastering effort, now appears to have been a mere
precursor to whet our appetites. Jaws in 4K is a miracle of home video
authorship, sporting a subtly textured image with gorgeous color saturation,
exquisite contrast, and, a light smattering of grain so perfectly resolved,
that in projection the results are convincingly film-like – as though viewing a
35mm print rather than a digital version of the movie. So, prepare yourselves for a truly astounding presentation, definitely worth the upgrade. This is a reference quality
disc, perfectly realizing Bill Butler’s soft-focused cinematography. The 7.1 DTS-X
audio will amaze. Incredible separation and subtly nuanced SFX, to compliment
John Williams’ score in all its primal glory. Extras are housed on the standard
Blu-ray and are identical – almost – to the original Blu-ray release. Not only
do we get the full 2-hr. making of, there is also another, nearly 2-hour
documentary on the legacy and impact of the movie, plus an insider’s look, and also a restoration featurette, deleted scenes and outtakes, an
impressive backlog of stills and promotional junkets and the original theatrical
trailer. Cumulatively, this represents nearly 3 hrs. of bonus content, minus
Uni’s puff piece that was part of its promotional junkets for its 100th
Anniversary – a forgivable excision, given the anniversary itself has
long-since passed. Padding out the extras, a gorgeous 44-page bound booklet
with tons of commemorative artwork and backstory. All in all, a real class act.
Were that Uni could do as much on a consistent basis with their deeper catalog
releases and get busy releasing some of their prime product still MIA on even
standard Blu-ray. Bottom line: Jaws
in 4K is just one of those movies you have to own. Watching it in Ultra-Hi-Def
is like seeing it with a fresh pair of eyes. Very – very – highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4K edition 5+
Blu-ray – 4.5
EXTRAS
5+
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