"Mr. Hooper, that's the USS Indianapolis." · 12:54am Aug 27th, 2014
If you’ve never seen this before, you’re welcome.
Where in the world do you start with this scene? In a movie credited with sparking shark hysteria for decades, this simple speech stands out as one the film’s most chilling moments. It’s hypnotic.
It’s emotional, is what it is. “Feels” is a common term tossed around this site, but it’s an insult to attach that word to this masterpiece. There’s a scene in Enter the Dragon in which Bruce Lee teaches a student about emotional content. “It is like a finger pointing away to the moon. Don’t concentrate on the finger or you will miss all the heavenly glory.”
Robert Shaw poured emotional content into this scene. Every word, every action, drips with feeling. Feeling. Not feels. He doesn’t bawl or mutter. It’s the feeling of a man with a story to tell.
And it starts with a joke.
The moment Hooper cracks the line about Quint’s tattoo saying mother, you see the flip switched. Quint moves his arm to cover the scar. He knows damn well what the scar was, and he blocks it away. And then Quint grabs Hooper’s arm. It’s not a playful shove or a punch. It’s a solid grip meant to draw attention. You see the decision made. Quint knows the story, and he’s going to tell it.
I have a new appreciation for this moment. Recently, I told a friend about a low point in my life. I would never dream of comparing it to the story of the Indianapolis, but I knew I had something to say. That decision to speak, that inner conflict to either not kill the mood or let someone know your story, is something I know now.
And kill the mood it did. Just as we saw the switch flipped with Quint, we Richard Dreyfuss flip it with Hooper. His laughter dies, and he waits. He waits. He breathes. He doesn’t speak until he can speak. He understands what Quint said, and he doesn’t insult him with a sloppy question.
Then Quint begins to talk. He starts with specifics. Two torpedoes into their hull, their mission, the number of men that went into the water. He even tosses his cap away. He tosses Quint the fisherman away to tell the story of Quint the Navy veteran. And he laughs. He laughs a joyless laugh. “No distress signal had been sent.”
I… how do you describe that smile? His eyes narrow, like he’s staring someone down. His mouth curls up like a jack o’ lantern. But there’s no hint of levity or anger. He tries to find the humor as he finished the sentence, but the way he finishes… the inflection on the word “sent”... shock.
The dam breaks. “They didn’t even list us overdue for a week.” The specifics are gone, and Quint doesn’t sound like he’s quoting a textbook anymore. He tells what the survivors did to try and survive. He talks about the sharks. Their eyes. The lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll’s eyes.
He puts himself into the story at last. He was in the water. He saw all these things. And he doesn’t stop.
The ocean turns red. The terrible, high-pitched screaming. A man bitten in half. Horrifying details delivered with matter-of-fact calmness. A slow, low, steady tone that keeps you hanging on every word.
And at the very end, fear. What is Quint--the rough, cursing, drinking, shark killing Quint--afraid of? He’s still afraid of what happened. He was just waiting for his turn to die when the rescue finally came, and he swears to never put on a lifejacket again.
To hell with acting. To hell with filmmaking. To hell with writing. This is storytelling. This is emotion. This is character. This surpasses the media of screen or page and grabs the audience. This is what I pretend to do here.
This scene sets the stage for the remainder of the movie. Obviously there’s a killer shark out there, but you can see the doubt creep into Hooper and Chief Brody’s faces as Quint tells his story. What the hell are they doing out there, chasing after this thing? Don’t they know how helpless they are?
And they are helpless. The Indianapolis speech is more than a great monologue; it’s foreshadowing. The scene is a microcosm for the rest of the film.
Quint, in a fit of pride, destroys his ship’s radio. No distress signal can be sent. Miles from shore, the ship begins to sink. Quint dooms himself and his two crewmates to the same fate as the Indianapolis and her crew.
The shark is waiting for them. True to his word, Quint tosses a lifejacket to Hooper and Brody, but doesn’t keep one for himself.
Of course, the story doesn’t end there. If you haven’t seen the Indianapolis speech until you clicked on this blog, surely you’ve seen this:
This brings me to the reason this blog exists. Something about the scene with the Indianapolis speech always struck me as odd. Quint and Hooper sit at the table, yet Chief Brody stands up. It’s odd.
And then it hit me. Quint’s final line in his speech. “We delivered the bomb.”
They did deliver the bomb. Hooper loaded the air tank with his scuba gear, and Quint brought it out to sea, and therefore to the shark. And they were the first ones to go into the water before the Chief made his shot. This realization is what prompted me to look at this scene in a new way. And after who knows how many years since I’ve seen the damn movie, I’m still picking up on things I never noticed before.
God I love Jaws.
One more video. Because I have to.
That was a great deconstruction.
Now do that one scene from Jingle All the Way. You know the one.
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The bit where Sinbad hijacks a jetpack to attack the Terminator (I don't care enough to look up the spelling) dressed as an action figure?
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Maybe. I was kinda hoping you knew which one.