Jaws – Consumed By Film

Steve Jobs (2015)

★★★★

Director: Danny Boyle

Release Date: October 23rd, 2015 (US); November 13th, 2015 (UK)

Genre: Biography; Drama

Starring: Michael Fassbender, Kate Winslet, Seth Rogen, Jeff Daniels

That it has taken the combined efforts of a handful of cinema’s specialists to create a portrait of Apple co-founder Steve Jobs, he himself a specialist in complexity, is somewhat fitting. Others have tried and subsequently missed the mark. Perhaps films such as Joshua Michael Stern’s Jobs lacked the raw materials to match the man, languishing instead in a pit of shallow personification. Shallowness is certainly not a characteristic that Danny Boyle’s pseudo-biopic (it’s more of a triple snapshot than a life journey) can be accused of. For his direction supports a piercing Aaron Sorkin script, the screenwriter’s words delivered with panache by an in form Michael Fassbender.

Steve Jobs stalks two primary areas of its protagonist’s life: technology and family. Most of us are aware of his technological feats, but here we see the visionary fear familial commitment, something Sorkin demonstrates early on. Backstage before the 1984 Apple Macintosh launch — the first of three elongated launch sequences; the 1988 NeXT Computer and 1998 iMac unveilings are the others — we watch as Jobs coldly interacts with his young daughter Lisa (played by Mackenzie Moss, Ripley Sobo, and Perla Haney-Jardine depending on the era) and her mother Chrisann Brennan (Katherine Waterston).

Brennan is disgusted at Jobs’ lack of humanity, that his daughter is living on benefits as his business thrives. The conversation switches to an earlier Apple product, the Lisa, and Jobs maintains his unflappable detachment by stressing that there is no titular connection between said machine and his child: “Nothing was named after you. It’s a coincidence”. We don’t believe the revelation, but emotional compromise isn’t how his mind functions. For a man whose existence is sustained via precision and calculation, coincidence doesn’t seem to fit. Perhaps that is why Jobs distances himself from his offspring; he cannot deal in uncertainty.

Sorkin temporarily counters this glacial mantra by having Jobs reel off other acts of kindness, but even those are wrapped up in a commercial blanket. Donating computers to schools for underprivileged kids (good publicity is great publicity after all), for instance. Meanwhile, only after a significant amount of pestering from Brennan does he agree to fund his own kid’s future. They somewhat bond after Lisa uses the Macintosh to doodle, a positive step born out the youngster taking an interest in something her father has created, and not vice-versa. It is a relationship that improves with time, Fassbender’s delicate touch increasingly indicating greater compassion.

There’s a shot around the halfway mark that is reminiscent of the one in Skyfall where techno-villain Raoul Silva can be seen ambling towards Bond from afar, camera frozen. Here, Apple CEO John Sculley (Jeff Daniels, brilliantly recapturing his Newsroom malaise) adopts the role of Silva and Jobs of Bond, though it is part of an extended montage delivered with a kinetic, stylish drive. This is probably the most Danny Boyle-esque the film gets, as elsewhere the director sits back and lets Sorkin’s electric screenplay absorb us. An unrelenting barrage of words does mean the verbiage can occasionally be tough to follow, and instances of humour are rarely afforded time to breath, but it really is a wicked script.

Alwin H. Küchler’s fluid lens work invokes Dutch tilts and floats alongside Jobs, funding his unique air. People constantly fuss around him, his demands fortuitously sky high right before product launches. This takes a little suspension of disbelief — chances are he never faced such family drama prior to the Macintosh introduction — but you do eventually begin to believe the hype. The man is like a rock star, a faultless salesman, and an underhanded criminal mastermind all at once. The cult of Apple is apparent too, with staff members “oohing” and “ahhing” during practice sessions. We even see Jobs wash his feet in some sort of messianic ritual.

The inventor dips in and out of the company for various reasons as the film progresses. When he ends up back with Apple for the movie’s final third, the iMac inauguration, Jobs is at his most charismatic and humorous. Fassbender affords him a chirpier exterior, or so it seems, cracking jokes and congratulating staff members for fixing problems (this clearly mirrors an earlier scene during which he unfairly admonishes an employee). It’s worth pointing out at this point that following his performances both here and in Macbeth, Fassbender ought to start dusting off the awards circuit apparel. The Irish star captures Jobs’ imperfect allure, but it is how the actor wins our empathy that truly astounds.

The spikiness remains. Issues with his now teenage daughter arise again, and it becomes apparent that the entrepreneur’s success is directly related to his relationship with Lisa. When the latter is fractured, the former is non-existent. You get the sense Jobs has spent a career over-egging one rather than focussing on both, and he realises it too: “What you make isn’t supposed to be the best part of you,” says close confidant Joanna Hoffman (a wonderful Kate Winslet), often the mediator between calm and crisis. The three time-sensitive snapshots collectively tell a succinct story and, though they are a tad repetitive, watching the layers unravel is a rewarding experience.

Daniel Pemberton delivers a technologically-infused score that sounds, oddly, like the Jaws theme sped up with light beeps replacing dense strokes. A Zimmer-like quality looms large late on, reflecting our central figure’s faux-heroic transformation. Camera filters change with each passing season, incorporating both rustic woodiness and a crisp sheen. The surrounding textures alter too — plastics make way for glass as the old oblong age evolves into a pre-Millennium new age that favours smoothness (see the difference between the rectangular Macintosh and the curved iMac).

Steve Jobs’ world makes sense to him but nobody else, and the film clearly expresses that. There are verbal jousts too with former partner Steve Wozniak (Seth Rogen), most of which highlight Jobs’ ignorance. But this is not a hatchet job. It is not a character assassination. Boyle’s picture is instead a contained examination of a convoluted man, a piece that refrains from taking sides and, in truth, never really suggests there were any sides to take in the first place.

Images credit: IMP Awards, Collider

Images copyright (©): Universal Pictures

Jaws (1975)

★★★★★

Director: Steven Spielberg

Release Date: June 20th, 1975 (US); December 26th, 1975 (UK)

Genre: Adventure; Drama; Thriller

Starring: Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw, Richard Dreyfuss

It is probably fair to say Jaws cemented Steven Spielberg’s status as a prominent athlete in the movie-making race. Released in 1975, the film ushered in a fresh era of monster flicks. Those hallmarks that we deem familiar in the genre today made their mainstream debut in Spielberg’s classic: the inaugural attack and subsequent denial; the saviour who is the only one bearing initial clarity; the prevention plan executed atop a wave of mayhem.

It is a blueprint that studios and filmmakers have followed since — the pitch for Alien famously included the tagline “Jaws in space” — primarily because the structure indiscriminately appeals to audiences. You only have to glance back at the last two summers to see the formula play out in Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla and Colin Trevorrow’s Jurassic World. Speaking of summer, Jaws is often also touted as the first seasonal blockbuster (it broke box office records upon release in the US). The catch? This blockbuster is one of those intelligently composed things.

Following the watery demise of a teenage girl via shark attack, the residents of Amity Island find themselves on high alert. Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) is tasked with developing a solution, but when the problem takes the form of a person-guzzling creature solutions are hard to come by. Bill Butler’s camera focuses directly on the words “shark attack” as Brody punches them into the death certificate of the aforementioned teen, the surrounding silence signifying both the solemnity at hand and the imminent danger. Everybody is a potential target because, on Amity Island, everybody is water-bound.

The locale is a “summer town [that] needs summer dollars,” according to Mayor Larry Vaughn (Murray Hamilton). Speaking to an agitated Brody, he continues, “You yell shark and we’ve got a panic on our hands on the 4th of July.” Though his use of the word panic is probably a reference to any incoming tourists, chances are he is more concerned about panic on the business front. It’s commercialism versus well-being, a duel unethically buffeted by a mayor who slinks around in a bright suit looking like a candy floss vendor selling treats that appear appetising but are ultimately bad for your health. And it’s Brody who takes the brunt of his poor decision-making: after a grieving mother vents her fury to Brody’s face, the film evolves into a tale of redemption and vengeance.

A smart and often snarky screenplay accommodates various themes and elevates Jaws well beyond popcorn entertainment (though it can be just that if you want it to). Originally written by Peter Benchley, the screenplay was reshaped by Carl Gottlieb, adapting his own novel, as filming got under way. And to his credit Spielberg values the duo’s writing just as much as he does tension building and aquatic action. This means there is wit in abundance, “we’re gonna need a bigger boat” being the obvious calling card. It is more than just a throwaway line though — the iconic scene quite brilliantly combines comedy, timing, and terror.

The shark seems to strike out of the blue. Though precautions are in place (shutting down beaches etc.) everything seems a bit rushed, a bit chaotic, as if the appearance of the creature is a wholly uncommon event. A rubbery meteor thrashing into an otherwise idyllic seaside lifestyle. Then there are the constant distractions — while Brody tries to keep an eye on swimmers, a plethora of unwary residents inundate him with random musings. And when the islanders catch a bogus shark, the local photographer is too busy taking photos for anyone to notice it’s the wrong fish.

Like an old Wild West villain, the shark has a $3,000 bounty placed on its fin. We don’t see it for a long time, but we do catch a glimpse of the consequences left in the monster’s wake: a crab-strewn arm; a volcanic bloodbath; various images of unevenly dissected limbs. You can do nothing but watch as its grey silhouette stalks the dangling legs of helpless victims whose idea of a beach vacation involves more relaxation and less chomping. Simmering in the background is this domestic strand about a father trying to introduce his sons to a dangerous world, juggling the virtues of the sea with the violence of its inhabitants.

There is a masculine theme at play too, and it particularly rears when boatman Quint (Robert Shaw) shows up, gruff and tough, parading a confidence and idly disrespecting those around him. But there is more to Quint, a clouded morality that swims beneath the surface. Robert Shaw delivers a revelatory monologue with a look on his face that denotes unsubtly disguised horror in one of the film’s more serene, excellent scenes. He joins Brody and oceanographer Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) on a voyage to oust the shark and as the three guys get grimier and drunker, you constantly wonder just how exactly they’re going to conquer the aqua beast.

Jaws’ score is often heralded for its tense beat that builds to a crescendo, but it also bears a swooping grandiosity that marks the film’s action-adventure element. Sharp high notes chirp along pleasantly, notes that composer John Williams would go on to recycle for the first few Harry Potter outings. The film isn’t an out-and-out horror flick but it does dabble in gruesome visuals and a playfully heart pounding atmosphere.

There is a bit of dip in stress levels just before the final act plays out, but you let it slide as Spielberg has spent so long admirably refraining from bluster, favouring human drama instead. Led by the quintessential everyman Chief Brody, his regular qualities superbly highlighted by Roy Scheider, Jaws manifests as a clever genre-chewer that still boasts significant bite 40 years on.

Images credit: IMP Awards, The Guardian

Images copyright (©): Universal Pictures

Back to the Future, Back in the Cinema

It’s the franchise that was never supposed to grace the silver screen again — director Robert Zemeckis has said so himself on many occasions — but the Jaws 19-decrying Back to the Future trilogy zoomed back into cinemas all over the world on Wednesday, breaking its own steadfast rule as a result. Great Scott! Heavy indeed.

But fear not. Zemeckis’ insistence that there shan’t ever be a Part IV is still set in stone, and as such Back to the Future’s legacy will remain firmly intact for the foreseeable, um, future. The trilogy’s re-release arrived as part of a wholesale cinematic celebration and moviegoers seemed to lap it up, attending screenings in their droves. October 21st, 2015 is a date that has been permanently marked in all of our calendars ever since Marty McFly and Emmett “Doc” Brown ventured from their 80s-set suburban existence through time, before landing in a world of self-tying trainers and hoverboards. The former has come to fruition in real life. Sadly, we are still waiting on the arrival of latter.

Variety is reporting that the trilogy garnered a respectable $4.8 million worldwide from its one-day rendezvous, a total comprised of North America’s $1.65 million domestic gross and an international intake of around $3.2 million. Those are heartening figures, especially when you take into account the day of the week (i.e. that it wasn’t a Friday or a weekend) and the pretty demanding near six-hour runtime for those sitting through all three films.

By comparison, Ghostbusters gained an extra $3.5 million in domestic revenue when it embarked upon its 30th Anniversary encore last year, and we all know just how highly regarded that outing is. Zemeckis, who coincidentally had to face off against himself at box office on Wednesday, will presumably be delighted that his franchise — produced by Steven Spielberg’s Amblin Entertainment — is still held in such high regard after 30 years. That’s the power of love.

For those few of you out there who aren’t up to speed on the madcap world of Hill Valley, California, the trilogy follows the trailblazing exploits of Marty (Michael J. Fox) and Doc (Christopher Lloyd) as they invariably travel backwards and forwards through time in order to influence a whole host of life events. Hilarity, unsurprisingly, ensues. Lea Thompson, Crispin Glover, Thomas F. Wilson, and Elizabeth Sue also star in one of cinema’s most endearing products.

Images credit: Collider

The Reef (2010)

★

Director: Andrew Traucki

Release Date: March 17th, 2011 (Australia)

Genre: Horror; Thriller

Starring: Damian Walsh-Howling, Zoe Naylor, Adrienne Pickering, Gyton Grantley

For an Australian horror outing that garnered over $25 million dollars at the box office (from a $1 million budget) and that has a Rotten Tomatoes rating of 78%, The Reef grandiosely fails to deliver. Restrained by unconvincing acting and an uninspired narrative, The Reef plods along at a less than satisfactory pace and does not offer anything that the audience has never seen before.

The film is apparently based on a true story although does not play up this aspect when perhaps it should have — doing so may have at least added a smidgen of drama. Essentially, four individuals who are related to each other in a variety of ways (brothers, sisters, girlfriends, boyfriends etc.) join a sailor on a journey out into the ocean. However, during their escapade across the sea, their sailboat hits some underlying rocks and capsizes, leaving the five companions in an unhealthy predicament.

The premise in itself should be enough to conjure up a decibel or two of tension, but by the time the boat crash happens the film has already hit rock bottom. The Reef is hampered by poor dialogue, which admittedly improves as the film progresses (although an improvement on excruciating is not exactly an improvement). The opening 20 minutes consists of the five characters exchanging awkward sound bites with one another — what happened to proper sentences? Many of the early exchanges come across as improvised, which generally is not necessarily a negative, but does not work as intended here. This lacklustre beginning to the film does not benefit the characters in any way, introducing them without any meaning or depth. The Reef is billed as a horror film, and one of the key elements assigned to any efficient horror film — or just any film — should be developing characters that the audience care about. The Reef does not do that and this is the driving force behind the film’s lack of tension and emotional involvement early on.

And that is just the first twenty minutes. After the group’s sailboat gets into some hot water (loving these ocean-related puns) and capsizes, the immediate collective reaction of the five characters is… nothing. There is no urgency. In the middle of the sea, with no drinkable water, no edible food and the only method of transport now upside down with a gaping hole on its underbelly, the five characters do not really seem that bothered. There are no hysterics, there is very little emotion, even a distinct lack of tears. Of course, if any one of the characters had a working mobile phone then it would make sense for all of those previous traits not to be applicable, but all mobile phones are floating in the sea by this point. The lack of immediate panic does not make sense — it is far from realistic — and takes the viewer out of the film when a bout of instant emotion would engross the audience further into the piece.

Another problem The Reef meanders into is a fairly confusing one, but one which certainly exists. Before the quintet sail into any danger, they make a short stop at a small island. When the group set foot on the island, they essentially do absolutely nothing apart from lie on a beach for an inconsequential period of time. The confusing element of this plot point (that is, the island stoppage) is just that — it is unclear if the island is a significant plot point, or if it is just there to waste another five minutes. When the group find themselves stranded at sea, they debate whether or not to swim to a place called Turtle Island. It is unclear whether or not Turtle Island is the small island they previously went ashore on, or if it is another island which one of the characters (the one who knows how to find North by using the sun and his watch) is aware of. If it is the former, then the earlier short stint on Turtle Island begins to feel too manufactured — as if the only reason the characters set foot on it was in order to establish a narrative ploy to be referred back to when disaster strikes. This is far too obvious, thus it would have improved the legitimacy of events if something meaningful happened when the group first disembarked on the island. On the flip side, if Turtle Island is not in fact the island that the characters are debating about swimming to, then their presence on the random island near the beginning of the trip is utterly unwarranted.

It should be noted that there are sharks, but by the time they arrive The Reef has already set sail to a point of no return. To the film’s credit however, the sharks are real and are not CGI, which does add a little apprehension to proceedings. As the sharks arrive, so too does a sense of panic (finally) amongst the characters, but unfortunately the timid dialogue remains for the most part. Admittedly there is a slight improvement as aforementioned, but the improvement is not enough and in earnest the damage has already been done. The final scenes of The Reef are also extremely anticlimactic, in accordance with everything else which has gone before.

Much like a sinking ship, The Reef sees the danger early on and does nothing to avoid it, as a result becoming a flailing, hapless vessel devoid of life, energy or the ability to rise from the depths and redeem itself.

Jaws can rest easy.