Revenge of the Ocean: On the Legacy of Jaws
by Lauren Gallagher
Steven Spielberg’s 1975 film Jaws is the seventh highest grossing film of all time (adjusted for inflation). In addition to this, the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week has generated hundreds of millions of dollars in ad revenue since its establishment. In fact, according to Christopher Neff, Australian social scientist and shark researcher, there is no other animal (on land or in water) that generates the entertainment income that sharks do. There are a myriad of shark films that have been released since 1975, both high and low budget, and all of which echo tropes which originated from Jaws. Deep Blue Sea, Sharknado, The Meg, The Shallows, Open Water, The Reef, Bait, Shark Lake, Jersey Shore Shark Attack, Ice Sharks, Dinoshark, Shark Night, Malibu Shark Attack, Avalanche Sharks, Snow Shark, Frenzy, Mega Shark vs. Mecha Shark, Ghost Shark, 47 Meters Down, 3-Headed Shark Attack, Sand Sharks, Megalodon, Sharktopus, Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus and countless franchise sequels. These are all post-Jaws releases. And I have only listed the ones I have personally watched. I don’t want to think of how many hours of my life have been consumed by watching Sharktopus sequels and spinoffs. Interestingly, if you try to find a shark film made before Jaws, you will get very few results. The few that did exist didn’t quite make it to the mainstream, and only featured sharks as an afterthought, such as the 1969 film Shark!, which was actually about a treasure hunting expedition.
The plot of Jaws follows the newly hired police chief Brody Martin, as he deals with apparent shark attacks off the coast of the fictional Amity Island in New England. Brody must deal with public pressures from the families of the attack victims and marine biologists who want him to close the beaches until the rogue shark is caught, but also with locals who fear the town’s economy will suffer if they close the beaches during tourist season. What follows is an action packed adventure in which Brody, a shark hunter, and an oceanographer attempt to catch and kill the blood-thirsty shark before it can take any more lives. The film sparked three sequels, major attractions in Florida and Osaka, a video game, a musical and an extensive line of merchandise.
It wasn’t until Jaws that sharks were really given much thought, or at least were not perceived as genuine threats. There are three lasting perceptions of sharks that began with Jaws; the attribution of intentionality and near-human intelligence, the perception that human-shark interactions will inevitably lead to fatality (usually of the human variety) and finally, the notion that the threat the shark poses can only be eliminated by the killing of the shark, each of which is explored in more contemporary shark films to varying degrees.It is undeniable that media representations of sharks inform public perception of the animals, and more crucially, a fear of them. The shark is a relative newcomer to the media, existing at the periphery of Western interest until the 1970s. Humans rarely interacted with sharks and they were scarcely written about or photographed, and then they suddenly skyrocketed to celebrity status.
Jaws’ success created a media frenzy, which in turn stimulated news coverage of shark encounters. The immensely popular shark documentary genre often deals with the aftermath of Jaws; the sensationalised nature of shark representations and the dramatised accounts of shark encounters which aim to meet the demand for blood-thirsty shark narratives that Jaws created. These documentaries denounce the dramatisation of shark attacks in the media, believing that they feed into public desire for spectacle with heavy music, clever word play and dramatic narration, which ultimately create a sense of danger for audiences. This fear unfortunately translates to a real life fear of sharks and a misunderstanding of them outside of the media. The mass media frequently covers stories that involve low-incidence, high-consequence events, submitting to the public demand for shark-human interactions. The news media often utilises fear-laden language when reporting on these occurrences, describing the animals as ‘monsters’ and ‘mindless killers.’ Or my personal favourite, when water is described as ‘shark infested.’ They live there. Is the land human infested? Well, with current debates around overpopulation, maybe that is a question for another time. The author of the novel Jaws, Peter Benchley, which was released just the year before the film adaptation, was interviewed by the Guardian regarding Jaws’ effect on the public psyche which led to widespread culling of sharks in Australia. he said:
‘I plead with the people of Australia – who live with, understand and, in general, respect sharks more than any other nation on earth – to refrain from slaughtering this magnificent ocean predator in the hope of achieving some catharsis, some fleeting satisfaction, from wreaking vengeance on one of nature’s most exquisite creations. [There is no such thing as] a rogue shark, tantalised by the taste of human flesh and bound now to kill and kill again. Such creatures do not exist, despite what you might have derived from Jaws.’
Peter Benchley’s quote recognises Jaws’ legacy of depicting killer sharks and the part shark films play in legislative practices. Benchley touches on the idea of revenge often associated with sharks seeking vengeance against those who have shown no regard for ocean creatures or their habitat, although this quote subverts this concept, as it is the humans perpetrating violence against nature. Despite the highly publicised plea from Benchley, as well as shark conservationists around Australia, the sensationalised news coverage and shark culling continued. It is undeniable that sharks have cemented their place in popular culture, with shark films in particular being the source. It is also undeniable that policies regarding sharks have been heavily influenced by news coverage and shark cinema. Although Jaws is most often the text which is used to demonstrate this, it is not the only shark film which has had an effect on policy. Andrew Traucki’s 2010 film The Reef is yet another example of this. The Reef is set in the waters surrounding Australia’s Turtle Island and depicts the Great Barrier Reef as the hunting ground for killer great white sharks. The film opens with the words ‘The Reef: based on true events’, reportedly the survival story of Ray Boundy, who was the sole survivor of a shipwreck in which two of his friends were eaten by tiger sharks.
This marketing strategy antagonised the chief executive of Tourism Tropical North Queensland, Rob Gaison, who feared that the film could negatively impact Australian tourism. Additionally, Col McKenzie, the CEO of the Association of Marine Park Operators was quoted saying ‘any kind of shark attack or what they air in the Jaws movies and things like that, there’s a drop off in inquiries within the marine tourism industry,’ expressing a similar concern. Tourism and shark cinema have been linked since Jaws, with much of the horror in the film occurring after Amity island officials refuse to shut down the beaches, as they are more concerned for the island’s economy, which is largely funded by tourism, than public safety. Clearly, there is an anxiety surrounding shark films and their possible negative effects on tourism, but interestingly, shark films often tackle themes of tourism and trespass, and so a cycle continues.
While Jaws may have been one of the first notable shark centred films, it was most definitely not the last. Malibu Shark Attack follows a group of delinquents who are hunted by prehistoric goblin sharks after a tsunami occurs. The main themes that are repeated in shark films are that of tourism, but also natural disasters/wildlife conservation concerns, both of which Malibu Shark Attack includes. Similarly, Frenzy tells the story of a group of friends who run a popular travel vlog that helps fund their adventures, the next of which is a scuba diving trip to an isolated cove. Frenzy plays on the idea of exploitative tourism and the use of sharks as a commodity and their homes as an entertainment source, rather than a living creature deserving of respect and space. 47 Metres Down is essentially a cautionary tale about cage diving, a tourist activity that has increased in popularity as years have passed. With cage diving, the water is ‘chummed’ (meat and blood are thrown into the water to attract sharks) and then the tourists in a cage are lowered into the water where the shark is feeding in order to observe it; a decidedly dangerous activity. Shark Night is a slightly more distinctive take, revolving around a group of college students on a trip to a remote lake for Spring Break. While there, they are hunted by a variety of sharks, including hammerheads, cookiecutters and great whites; all sharks which would not ordinarily be found in a lake. When one of the sharks washes up on the sand, the group find a camera attached to the shark and come to the realisation that someone purposefully brought the sharks to the lake and is filming the attacks. Towards the end of the film, the remaining members of the group are abducted by those responsible for the shark’s presence and question their motives. One of the culprits monologues;
‘What is cable television’s longest running programming event? Last year alone, it was watched by over twenty million viewers. Shark Week, Loser! And a few of those twenty million want to watch the real hardcore shit that you can’t get on basic cable. And we’re willing to bet that they’ll pay top dollar for it.’
While many shark films criticise the exploitative nature of shark media, playing on ideas of shark attack films furthering public fear of the animals, which in turn leads to shark culling and harsh legislations, these films are doing the same thing. Shark Night condemns shark media, but it also did exactly what it criticised, portraying sensationalised attacks by an animal that rarely interacts with humans at all, all while pulling in over $40 million dollars at the box office. Other shark films that fit into this category include Deep Blue Sea and 3-Headed Shark Attack, which call into question the ethics of animal testing, ocean pollution and habitat destruction. Bait and the Sharknado franchise use dramatised fictional narratives to examine a genuine fear of natural disasters and global threats, such as climate change (with one Sharknado going as far as to be titled Sharknado 5: Global Swarming). I believe Craig Detweiler summed up the reason for so much interest in shark media when he wrote, ‘when we attempt to rule over every living creature […], we also undercut our place within a fragile ecosystem. Scary sharks […] remind us to steward creation with humility rather than bluster. Those attempting to dominate may end up mastered by the beasts they seek to capture, kill, and exploit for selfish gain.’
Jaws may be one of the most highly regarded films of all time, being hailed as the first ‘summer blockbuster’ and has inspired many horror films since, including non-shark related horrors, with even Ridley Scott’s Alien being pitched as ‘Jaws in space.’ As an avid horror watcher, and a massive fan of animal attack narratives, it is hard to condemn a film that is responsible for the subsequent production of so many of my favourite films. But it is also hard to ignore that 71% of the world’s shark population has steeply declined since 1975. Was it really worth it?
BIO
Lauren Gallagher is an Irish writer, specialising in film and literary criticism. She holds a B.A. in English, Media and Cultural Studies and currently resides on the English South Coast. Her work focuses primarily on exploring horror from a feminist perspective and reviewing the newest literary titles. Her writing has been featured in Anfa Collective, Off Chance Magazine, Certified Forgotten, Sleaze Magazine and Offcultured. You can find her short-form reviews at @laurrensthoughts on Instagram and @cosmopoiis on Letterboxd.
