The Jaws of Death
Fifty years after its blockbuster release, Jaws still speaks not just to our fears, but to the reality of our mortal condition.
Review by Sara Holston
As we celebrate the 50th anniversary of its release, Jaws has gotten a lot of airtime this summer. That’s probably because it packs a lot into one summer blockbuster: the evils of capitalism, the struggle of man against nature, the age-old rivalry between the working class and the intelligentsia. There’s even a lot to say about how it changed the summer blockbuster itself, proving to film studios that the right low-budget, high-excitement flick could rake in profits at the box office.
And while the low-hanging fruit would be to focus on the breakaway character of the movie (the shark, obviously), this summer I’m more interested in the film’s other breakaway character—the shark’s most notorious opponent: Quint. In many ways, Quint is the tragic hero of this story. Yes, Chief Brody, our protagonist, kills the shark with the help of his charming and clever sidekick Mr. Hooper. But this wouldn’t be the first story where the protagonist isn’t quite the hero; take Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby, or John Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories. We may be following a particular point-of-view character, but they’re ultimately just observers, while the real narrative drama unfolds between other characters. The first half of Jaws pits Brody against the mayor in a drama about the tension between profit and public safety. But when the narrative actually turns to bringing down the shark, Brody shifts out of focus, and Quint takes the spotlight.
From the moment he first appears, the film sets up the parallel between these two opponents: both ruthless killers who won’t stop until the other is dead. Quint is introduced much like the shark, heralded by an ominous sound. But where the shark’s first appearance is presaged by the score, Quint sets his own stage. In the midst of a raucous debate at a town meeting over what to do about the shark, we hear the screech of Quint dragging his nails down a chalkboard. The room goes silent as he delivers his first monologue, dripping with the swagger we will come to associate with this character. That confidence shines through every time he appears on screen, cackling and boisterous at the helm as the trio heads out to sea, lounging in the fighting chair like it’s a throne as he barks orders, smugly singing his favorite refrain: farewell and adieu, ye fair Spanish ladies, farewell and adieu, ye ladies of Spain!
Most of what has been written about Quint focuses on his speech about the sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis, and fair enough—it’s probably the best scene in the film, and it’s got to rank on at least a couple of lists of the best scenes ever put to film. It’s one of those sequences where you realize halfway through that you’ve been holding your breath, and it seems to mark a real turning point for the character. This is the first time the audience starts to understand what makes Quint tick. For my purposes, it reveals him as the shark’s true nemesis, and I believe it also sets him up as a tragic hero, in particular.
We learn that Quint survived a shipwreck that left over a thousand crewmen stranded in the water for almost a week. It took less than an hour for the first sharks to arrive, and for days the survivors fended off a series of attacks as the sharks brutally picked them off. Quint reveals himself to be one of only 316 survivors of the wreck. It’s a phenomenal performance by Robert Shaw, and it finally explains why Quint has been so single-minded in his pursuit of the shark, and why he has sabotaged any attempts to call for help or draw the shark towards others who could help kill it. This is personal.
But, while the scene is exceptional, it’s less of a turn than it might at first seem. At the end of the day, the story is still part of the legend Quint has built around himself: the grizzled shark-hunter, motivated by tragic loss and a harrowing brush with death that drives him to pursue the destruction of sharks—and now this killer shark in particular—with unrelenting fury. We sympathize with how terrible it must have been, but when the tale is done, Quint still comes off as the badass.
Quint’s identity as the shark-hunter is ultimately just a carefully constructed role.
A lot of this, again, is Robert Shaw’s brilliant performance. He’s clearly haunted, but he doesn’t seem terrorized. Behind his thousand-yard stare simmers bitterness, defiance, and anger. He even breaks out the story at the climax of an exchange of anecdotes about scars, each of the shark-hunting trio—Brody, Hooper, and Quint—trying to one-up each other with who has the worst. From the moment he starts the tale, it’s clear that surviving the wreck of the Indianapolis lands Quint the win.
I would argue that, rather than the Indianapolis monologue, the true turning point for Quint’s character is the moment of his death. It’s a hard scene to watch in a movie already full of chilling tension and tragic, even brutal, deaths. This is where Quint finally drops the character he’s been playing and reveals what he’s always been underneath—not a legend, but a man, desperately fighting an indifferent beast and terrified of what that beast could do to him. It’s hard to watch because this isn’t just where Quint becomes understandable, this is where he becomes us.
Quint’s identity as the shark-hunter is ultimately just a carefully constructed role. He’s Captain Ahab in Moby Dick hunting the white whale. He’s Santiago in The Old Man and the Sea chasing the giant marlin and dragging it back to shore despite everything the sea throws at him. Quint, another grizzled sailor, has positioned himself as the trophy hunter, the apex predator, the unstoppable terminator. The Indianapolis speech just fills in the missing pieces of the archetype. It tells us who not necessarily who Quint is, but rather who he has to be if he’s going to live with his memories.
Quint may even have believed in his own mask, but in the end, the façade comes crumbling down. The shark, having thoroughly battered Quint’s boat, lunges up onto the back edge, its massive weight tilting the whole thing down. With the deck flooded and slippery from the earlier chaos, there’s nothing to stop Quint from sliding right down into the literal jaws of death. He fights to the bitter end, but this time the fight is different. Robert Shaw could have played the scene with Quint’s usual abrasiveness, screaming curses at the shark or gritting out that iconic refrain: farewell and adieu, ye fair Spanish ladies. Instead, Quint kicks wildly at the shark’s mouth, stabs desperately at anything he can reach. He is panting, even whimpering, as he tries to resist the inevitable. Gone is all the bravado we’ve seen up until this point. Gone is the disdain for sharks. Gone is the defiance. Shaw’s performance strips away the character Quint has played so carefully since the moment he arrived on screen and leaves only the man—vulnerable and frightened in the face of a force of nature stronger and deadlier than he could ever be.
It’s common knowledge that death is the great equalizer: it comes for us all. And with respect to material possessions, we also like to talk about how we can’t take anything with us. Quint’s death scene reminds us that the truth of these adages runs deeper than the clichés. Everyone will face death, and not one of us will be able to take even our masks, our armor, the narratives we built around ourselves as we navigated the world. Quint’s death is hard to watch not just because it’s tragic, or because it’s gory and violent. It’s hard to watch because it is a stark reminder of what comes for us all—maybe not a 20-foot-long maneater, but Death itself, which takes everything that we truly are and ruthlessly leaves behind the rest.
Sara Holston is a student at HLS, and the current Managing Editor of Fare Forward.
Jaws was based upon the novel of the same name by Peter Benchley. The screenplay was written by Benchley and Carl Gottlieb, and the film was directed by Steven Spielberg. It was released in 1975 by Universal Pictures. It is available to watch via various streaming services.
