My brilliant dissertation on JAWS 2:
Not enough people get eaten.
The End.
And between you and me, I think I prefer the sailboat art over the happy water-skier that’s about to get munched.
Is it me, or is the Shark getting closer with each successive ad? Anyways … A classic example of less is more — the less, in this case, still scaring the living bajeebus out of you, I honestly don’t know what more I can add that hasn’t already been said or written about Spielberg’s JAWS that will shed any new light or angle on the subject. Well, except, for, maybe, a desire to see Spielberg regain his nerve and try his hand at a popcorn thriller again because he (– at least he used to be) really, really, really damned good at. You want proof? How long can you be in the water, salt of fresh, before that low thrum and those familiar, primal chords has you wondering what’s lurking just below the surface? A friendly reminder, perhaps, that in some instances we are no longer on top of the food chain anymore as you make the water just a tad bit warmer before vacating it for drier environs post haste.
JAWS (1975) Zanuck/Brown Productions :: Universal Pictures / P: David Brown, Richard D. Zanuck / D: Steven Spielberg / W: Carl Gottlieb, Peter Benchley (novel) / C: Bill Butler / E: Verna Fields / M: John Williams / S: Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw, Richard Dreyfuss, Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton, Jeffrey Kramer