As I observed last year, it was on this day in 1975 that the practice of heavily promoting the summertime theatrical release of a motion picture (i.e., a "blockbuster" movie) began.
And I guess there was no more harrowing film sequence that could have ushered in that era than the opening of "Jaws."
Actress Susan Backlinie was only on the screen a few seconds, really, but her character's violent death while taking a moonlight swim resonated with audiences as surely as the infamous shower scene in "Psycho" 15 years earlier.
I presume, though, that, as audiences projected themselves into each situation, they could imagine circumstances in which they could get away from a knife–wielding intruder, even if they appeared to be cornered, naked, in a shower. It was much more difficult, if not impossible, to imagine being attacked in the ocean by a shark — and managing to escape.
It couldn't have surprised anyone who had read Peter Benchley's novel upon which the film was based. The cover illustration of a young woman swimming along the surface while a shark, its mouth agape, rises from the murky depths has become iconic.
That illustration was used in the movie posters so I can't imagine that the opening sequence surprised many of those in the audience who had not read the book — but, even so, I always wondered how many people were genuinely shocked by what they saw.
Admittedly, they saw very little of the shark.
And that, I suppose, is what made "Jaws" truly terrifying — the menace lurking in the murky depths, unseen until it was too late.
It's interesting, isn't it, that both of those fearsome images involved water — the life–giving substance, cleansing, refreshing, restoring. On a hot summer's day, when one is grimy and sweaty, there may be nothing more appealing than a cool lake or stream. I've never been a big fan of beaches — I guess they've always been too crowded for my taste — but I suppose most beachgoers fancy the beach as a large swimming pool.
And a pool isn't usually threatening — unless you're behaving recklessly.
But there was nothing reckless about the young woman's behavior at the opening of "Jaws." You may draw whatever conclusions you like about her moral behavior, skinny dipping at night — and originally intending to do so with a young man she had just met — but, as I understand it, sharks are drawn to movement, and she was doing that alone (and, it can be assumed, she would have been doing even if she had been wearing a bathing suit and her male companion had not fallen on the sand and remained there in a semi–conscious stupor, unaware of the struggle she was waging for her life not far away).
Of course, the actual shark in "Jaws" wasn't real. He was a mechanical shark that was given the name Bruce — after, as I understand it, Spielberg's lawyer.
I suppose there's some significance to that — perhaps adequately explaining it calls for someone who is certifiably anti–lawyer, and I'm not sure I belong in that group. I mean, I recognize the need for lawyers. They don't just exist to run up outrageous bills. They do provide a legitimate, specialized service — one for which I hope I will have little use in my life, but that's beside the point.
Later, I guess you could say Benchley "saw the light." In his later years, he claimed that the image of the shark as man's predator was false, and he warned that they were endangered by man's aggressive treatment of them and their environment.
"Jaws," he said, could not be written today with the shark cast as the villain. "[I]t would have to be written as the victim for, worldwide, sharks are much more the oppressed than the oppressors."
That may be true, but I read "Jaws" back when it was a bestseller, and I'm sure I would get the same chills down my spine if I read it again today.
The movie still does that to me.
