Better every time

Rating: 9/10 (26 February 2001)

Jaws is one of a handful of films I can watch again and again, and it gets better every time. I queued round the block to see it the first time I was allowed to the cinema on my own back in 1975; the crowds were such that I missed the beginning, not getting inside the theatre until the bit where Roy Scheider comes out of the police station and walks down the street, giving a little skip-and-a-jump when he hears the band playing. (I still love that moment.) Two hours later, when the film had finished, I discovered I'd been so hypnotised by what was on the screen I still had my coat done up.
In the intervening years, I've read Carl Gottlieb's book about the making of the film countless times, and in 1998 finally made a pilgrimage to Martha's Vineyard to see the location of the fictional Amity Island for myself. (Travellers' tip: they don't like you mentioning sharks there.) I walked in Roy Scheider's footsteps down that same street in Edgartown, I crossed to Chappaquiddick on the ferry where Murray Hamilton first puts the screws on him, I cycled over the bridge across the entry to "the pond", I sat on *that* beach.
My VHS copy was worn pretty thin when the marvellous DVD release came to my rescue, along with the excellent behind-the-scenes documentary. Of course, since missing that terrifying opening scene as a teenager, I've made up for it since - and it's probably the one scene that I still find difficult to watch, for Susan Backlinie's panic and agony as Chrissy always sound so painfully real.
If I had to pick a favourite scene, I'd be hard pushed to choose between two. One is, of course, Robert Shaw's classic USS Indianapolis speech. The other is one of the most masterfully subtle pieces of directing Spielberg - or anyone else - ever pulled off. It's the scene where Brody, having been publicly humiliated by the grieving Mrs Kintner, sits that evening at the dinner table, unaware that his toddler son is mimicking his every facial expression. But this isn't quite the tension-releasing moment it appears to be. Listen to John Williams' haunting, nursery-chime-like music at this point. It's undermined by a slowly repeated, discordant bass note, reflecting Brody's mood. Then we hear Brody's wife Ellen letting in Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), who seems to be the only person on the island who knows what's on Brody's mind. "Is your husband at home? I'd really like to talk to him," he says, proffering a gift of wine. "Er, yes, so would I," responds Ellen tautly, showing him in. He sits and everyone looks at each other for a moment. Then Hooper asks, "So: how was your day?" And Brody relaxes, and grins, and says, "Swell...."
I still get emotional every time I watch that scene. And it's partly to do with the situation and the performances, sure; but it's also because the absolute perfection with which it's constructed leaves me breathless.
And, of course, we're still a long way off seeing the shark at that point. :-)