Anthony Bergamini
Dun-dun… dun-dun dun-dun… dun-dun dun-dun dun… dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun… dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun.
Fifty years ago today, the nature of cinema changed forever. Since its inception, the film industry has had a profound impact on society and its cultural zeitgeist. With the release of Jaws in 1975, audiences across the United States—and eventually, the world—were introduced to the concept of the summer “blockbuster.” This may not seem monumental to those who have always lived in a world where the biggest film releases debut each summer, but prior to 1975, this was simply not the norm. Additionally, Jaws made waves in how it scheduled and advertised its release, opting to saturate multimedia channels with advertisements leading up to a wide release. Previously, films typically opened in smaller markets first, relying on journalists and film scholars to generate buzz before expanding to a wider audience. However, these innovations are only part of what makes Jaws so important to popular culture.
Before diving into the significance of the film’s themes, characters, and plot, it’s worth briefly acknowledging the film’s notoriously troubled production. Anyone who has visited Universal Studios has probably heard about the mechanical sharks used in the film and how problematic they were. But that wasn’t the only issue. Jaws was filmed largely on the ocean, creating unpredictable and difficult conditions. This led to several days of unusable footage and many more days when the crew was simply unable to shoot. Sometimes it was due to the tides or rough waters; other times, unwanted sea life or boats appeared in the background of crucial shots. By the end of production, the film was over one hundred days behind schedule. This likely contributed to the studio’s decision to launch the film with a wide release and a heavy advertising campaign—hoping to turn it into a hit before critics could dissect it. Despite these challenges, the film turned out to be both a critical and commercial success. It’s impossible to look back on the significance of Jaws without acknowledging these production struggles—but now, let’s focus on the film itself, and perhaps even some of its (unfortunate) sequels.
I feel obliged to mention that, despite this film’s significance and longevity—and my own background as a film scholar—I had never seen Jaws until recently. In preparation for the 50th anniversary, I watched the film and several of its sequels over the past few weeks. Yes, I can already hear the gasps of disbelief, but I would argue that this gave me a more unique perspective. While I had never seen the film before, I was well aware of its cultural impact and the widely publicized production issues I summarized above. As a result, I approached the experience with more background knowledge than narrative familiarity, making it a viewing unlike any I’ve had before.
While most people are familiar with the film’s plot, let’s do a quick summary for context. Jaws opens with a shark attack in the fictional town of Amity Bay, sparking panic just before the town’s biggest tourist event—July 4th. The town’s police chief, Martin Brody, wants to close the beach, but the mayor insists on keeping it open due to the potential loss of revenue. Soon after, a shark is captured by bounty hunters, giving the mayor enough justification to reopen the beach—despite Brody proving that it wasn’t the same shark from the initial attack. On July 4th, a massive crowd gathers, but chaos erupts when the shark strikes again. Brody then sets off on a voyage with a marine biologist and a professional shark hunter to track and kill the predator once and for all.
Brody serves as an “everyman” protagonist—relatable to the audience. Despite his role as police chief, he’s inexperienced in marine matters and thus acts as a surrogate for the audience, learning and adapting throughout the journey. His fear and uncertainty mirror our own, particularly as the shark begins to wreak havoc. This makes him a compelling and sympathetic character—something that, unfortunately, diminishes in the film’s sequels.
Complementing the protagonist is the film’s antagonist: the shark. The shark works on multiple levels. First, it’s just a shark—an animal with no vendetta or emotion, just primal hunger. Second, sharks are real, meaning the film taps into a very tangible, universal fear. Anyone entering the ocean could theoretically encounter one, which makes the horror feel all the more immediate and real. It’s worth mentioning here one sequel that should probably be avoided altogether: Jaws: The Revenge, which absurdly suggests that a different shark is seeking revenge on Brody’s family. It’s a ridiculous premise that undermines the grounded horror of the original film.
One aspect of Jaws that often goes under-appreciated is its effectiveness as a horror film. Even now, people still cite the film as the reason they fear the ocean. Sharks have always posed a danger to swimmers, but Jaws brought that danger to life in a visceral, unforgettable way. There’s even a running joke that towns with popular beaches sympathized with the film’s mayor—worried that the film would drive away tourists. Even 50 years later, Jaws still delivers that same fear. In many ways, it’s the film’s minimalistic approach—rarely showing the shark itself—that heightens the suspense. Instead, it focuses on what the shark does beneath the surface, striking when least expected. Combined with John Williams’ ominous score, Jaws remains scarier than many of its horror contemporaries.
Capitalism is another major theme in Jaws, especially the dangers of placing profit over safety. The mayor’s refusal to close the beach, even in the face of mounting danger, underscores a critique that remains all too relevant. A film so clearly critical of capitalism in 1975 speaks volumes—not only about the time in which it was made but about how little has changed since. In this regard, the message of Jaws may be more relevant than ever. To call it a “cautionary tale” almost feels like an understatement.
The film’s lasting impact is also evident in its dialogue. The line “We’re going to need a bigger boat” has become iconic, despite its limited context within the film. It’s the kind of quote that transcends cinema and enters the broader cultural lexicon. Only a handful of truly influential films boast lines like this—lines that become catchphrases for real-life situations entirely unrelated to the original scene.
While some of Jaws’ legacy—like the increasingly absurd sequels or copycat films such as Sharknado—could be seen as negative, its influence runs far deeper. Many great films that followed owe a debt to Jaws. For instance, Alien was famously pitched to 20th Century Fox as “Jaws in space.” This illustrates how Jaws didn’t just create a subgenre of shark thrillers—it helped reshape how tension and horror were handled in cinema. Its DNA can be found in countless films that strive to emulate its pacing, suspense, and character dynamics.
In the end, Jaws remains one of the most important and influential films ever made.
