* The following review was originally published with a Rotten Tomatoes rating in 2011. Further analysis has been added for the sake of this blog.
Repetitive sequences that show off the movie's mysterious setting, a romance aspect that doesn't seem to go anywhere, and a handful of one-dimensional characters...with VAMPIRES. Ring a bell, even without the werewolves? Does this sound painfully familiar?
Now, you're probably wondering: "how could you bash the Twilight craze when you watch a dumb teen vampire flick and enjoy it?"
*The following review was originally published as a Facebook note on October 31st, 2010
In the early 1970's, a film version of a well-recieved Peter Benchley novel (about a large great white that terrorizes a beach-centered town) was greenlit by Universal Studios. After a brief search for a director, they eventually settled for a rookie by the name of Steven Spielberg, who, at the time, only had experience in television and direct-to-TV features. The production itself was a nightmare, as the animatronic "star" of the picture rarely worked while the cameras were rolling (earning the nickname "The Great White Turd" from the crew), and the pressure of time and money rose intensely as the days went by. Only through unimaginable "courage and stupidity" (words from the director himself) was the piece finally finished. Little did the industry know, however, that his irritably made, uncompromising little movie would not only become the first film to pass the 100 million-dollar mark, but also one of the finest examples of modern horror and suspense.
1975, Rated PG (yeah. thats right. not R. Go watch it)
I recall making the viewing of Jaws a top priority in middle-school. While I was anything but a fan of scary movies at the time, its reputation was strangely appealing (how could one movie make so many people afraid of the water). After taking a few weeks to read the novel first (something I NEVER do these days, though the novel was much more graphic and adult-oriented), I put the movie in the player, closed as many sources of light as I could, and began watching it with my dad. From the visceral opening scene (we all know it. its on the poster after all), I was hooked. Even with a somewhat considerable amount of knowledge of some of the scares, the film still managed to make me jump a few times. A good amount of time has passed since the first viewing. And though I can't necessarily say it's as "frightening" as it was then, it has managed to get better as a movie in general, and I can now easily call it one of my absolute favorites.
How wonderful it must have been to watch film take off as a medium. While it was first viewed as a novelty (I say, my good man! Lookit! Moving pictures!), a blessed few saw its worth and sought to unlock the secrets of visual storytelling. Silent comedy became the most popular example of film's potential, its clever sight-gags luring in audiences worldwide.
Geniuses like Charlie Chaplin even found a way to tug at the heart strings with competently-made stories of adventure, social adversity, and heroism. Then, of course, opposite to Chaplin's iconic "Tramp" persona, was Buster "Stoneface" Keaton, who made a fine career out of stunt-oriented comedies and pushed the envelope for physical feats on film (to the point of inspiring the likes of Jackie Chan, who openly pays homage to the man's antics in his own work!).
