14 Perfect Minutes: Breaking Down the Opening of 'Jaws'
From character introductions, to dialogue, to world-building, Steven Spielberg's third film is a master class in cinematic storytelling
Jaws (1975) is a master class in literally every aspect of filmmaking, but today I want to focus on its screenplay. In particular, how its opening pages set up its world and characters so well that fourteen minutes into the film you’ve already learned more about both — and the plot — than most films manage in an entire first act.
Because what shows up on screen is different than what’s on the page, I’m going to primarily discuss the screen experience, but, as I do so, I’ll also draw attention to how what I’m describing appears — or doesn’t appear — in the script. This will, I hope, help you to see how decisions during Jaws’ turbulent production and, later, in the editing room led to a more economical, effective story. What I just wrote should not be interpreted as criticism of Peter Benchley and Carl Gottlieb’s brilliant script. But in realizing it, exigent production realities and editing led to director Steven Spielberg making calls that streamlined certain details and made others land even more effectively.
Start to finish, this conversation is going to be about economic storytelling that makes audiences lean in while never resorting to lazy exposition.
EXT. BEACH
The film’s TEASER is iconic, of course. Two potential young lovers separate from a late-night/early-morning beach party to skinny dip together. The man, too drunk, struggles to disrobe on the beach. The woman dives in…and, moments later, is attacked by something that is only identified by John Williams’ now-iconic “duh-duh” “Jaws Theme”. The sequence lasts until about 05:03 into the film before the image of a blinking buoy in the night slowly dissolves to a virtually identical shot (sans buoy) — but it’s morning now, the sky blindingly bright.
The fact that five minutes have passed is important because I’m discussing the film’s first fourteen minutes here. That means everything else I’m going to get into happens in only nine minutes, even less time than I first suggested, given how much is narratively accomplished with them.
INT. BRODY HOUSE - BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING
(By the way, the sluglines I’m sharing here are lifted directly from the screenplay. You’ll find a link to it at the end of the article.)
Returning to my description of the shot of the ocean, blindingly bright — a shadowy figure rises into in the extreme foreground, peering out at the ocean that we’ll later learn scares him so much. In other words, his introducing is staring down his existential enemy — the thing he’ll have to overcome to ultimately triumph. This is a man vs. nature story.
As this happens, the radio issues a report about AMITY.
The location — the “world” — of our story has been established.
This, it should be noted, is different than the screenplay where other geographical details are mentioned instead. While what’s written is realistic, it confuses how the audience locates itself in the events they’re experiencing.
“How come the sun didn’t use to shine in here?” the shadowy figure asks. We still don’t see his face. Steven Spielberg is making us lean in, pay more attention.
His wife, ELLEN, lies in bed. We do see her face. She tells them the sun is so bright because they bought the house in the fall and it’s summer now.
Ah, they’re newcomers to Amity.
Her husband, whose name is BRODY, rises. We still can’t see his face, just hints of it. We’re leaning in hard now. Ellen asks him, “You see the kids?”
They have kids.
Brody looks out the window. “They must be in the backyard,” he says. But this isn’t some throwaway detail. It leads to a fun exchange between this loving couple that reveals even more about them.
Even if you miss the Boston accent Ellen slaps on the word “yard”, the intent is clear.
At this point, Brody finally turns to the camera, revealing his face. His next words answer the question about where they’re really from. Do you see what the script/film is doing? It’s making you, the audience, ask questions. Why is the sun so bright? What does Brody look like? Where are they from?
Got it, they’re from New York.
What’s more: They’ve moved to Amity for good.
You can interpret a lot from this. They newcomers, still settling in, still getting used to whatever “Amity” is after a huge life decision.
INT. BRODY KITCHEN - MORNING
Here, the phone rings. Brody answers it…except there’s nobody there. That’s because he picked up the wrong phone. He grabs the receiver off a second phone, beneath the other one.
See, another question for the audience to keep them engaged: why does this guy have two phones?
Consider how this plays out in the screenplay:
Spielberg’s staging of this is vastly superior because, again, you’re leaning in, you’re asking questions, you want to know more.
As for Brody’s dialogue, it’s vague and real. He’s responding to what someone else is telling him about events obviously related to our teaser…but why is anyone calling him about this? You’ll note, nobody has referred to him as a police officer of any kind yet.
An element of the screenplay that’s cut from the film is setting up Brody’s new glasses. Here:
These glasses were meant to be relevant to the finale of the film, when Brody, stripped of his glasses, is forced to take a critical shot at a pressurized air tank wedged in the titular Great White’s jaws. The film obviously works without it, so it was cut.
But it’s a lovely detail all the same.
This is followed, in the script, by Ellen kissing her husband as he leaves with a travel cup filled with coffee:
This isn’t what happens in the film, though. Spielberg moves this exchange outside the Brody household, to create a sense of movement to the act, where Brody climbs into a convertible SUV. It’s only here that Ellen calls him “Chief” for the first time.
“Listen, Chief, be careful,” she calls out. “In this town?” Brody replies. In other words:
Nothing dangerous ever happens here.
But it’s not just that. It’s subtle, but Brody’s ignorance of the double phone and the way Ellen calls him “chief” suggests something else:
