"STILLNESS IN THE WATER"
AKA:
"JAWS"
by
Carl Gottlieb
and
Peter Benchley
From the novel
by
Peter Benchley
OVER BLACK
Sounds of the innerspaces rushing forward.
Then a splinter of blue light in the center of the picture.
It breaks wide, showing the top and bottom a silhouetted
curtain of razor sharp teeth suggesting that we are inside
of a tremendous gullet, looking out at the onrushing undersea
world at night. HEAR a symphony of underwater sounds:
landslide, metabolic sounds, the rare and secret noises that
certain undersea species share with each other. Also, the
hint of familiar music, twisted and distorted by the depths.
CUT TO:
EXT. BEACH – NIGHT – SHARK'S POINT OF VIEW – RISING OUT OF
THE WATER, LOOKING AT
It is a pleasant, moonlit, windless night in mid-June. We
see a long straight stretch of white beach. Behind the low
dunes are the dark shapes of large expensive houses. Hear a
number of voices singing. It sounds like an eastern
university's alma mater, no longer distorted.
EXT. BEACH – NIGHT – ANOTHER ANGLE
Around a blazing bonfire, a group of young men and women,
beer cans (or maybe a keg) in evidence, as well as the bota
Spanish leather wine-bag much in favor by beach and ski-bum
types.
The group is swapping sentimental alma maters, weepily singing
eastern Ivy League anthems -– Dartmouth, Cornell, Harvard,
Penn, etc. Two young people break away from the others. They
are Tom Cassidy and Chrissie. Behind them, there is
considerable necking activity; Tom and Chrissie are more
serious.
TOM
Makes a clumsy attempt at snaring Chrissie, cups her from
behind. She squirms playfully out of his grasp. We discover
he's not especially sober.
TOM
Hey! Hey hey! I'm with you, right?
EXT. ANOTHER PART OF THE BEACH – NIGHT
Tom and Chrissie are separated from the others, silhouetted
against the fire, she pauses and looks at the ocean, he is
plodding along in the sand, winded.
Chrissie runs down the slope of the dune towards the water,
leaving Tom reeling atop the dune. As she runs, she is
shedding her clothes. Tom is trying to trail her by her
clothes, like Hansel following bread crumbs through the woods.
But Chrissie is way ahead of him.
CHRISSIE
C'mon!
She runs headlong into the inviting sea, plunges cleanly
into the water with a light "Whoops!" as the cold water sweeps
over her.
Behind all this, we continue to hear the sentimental, beery
chorus of alma maters.
Then we see it -- a gentle bulge in the water, a ripple that
passes her a dozen feet away. A pressure wave lifts her up,
then eases her down again, like a smooth, sudden swell.
CHRISSIE
Tommy? Don't dunk me...
She looks around for him, finds him still on the beach, his
feet tangled in his pants, which have dropped around his
ankles. She starts to swim back in to him.
EXT. CHRISSIE IN THE WATER
Her expression freezes. The water-bulge is racing towards
her. The first bump jolts her upright, out of the water to
her hips. She reaches under water to touch her leg. Whatever
she feels makes her open her mouth to scream, but she is
slammed again, hard, whipped into an arc of about eight feet,
up and down, submerging her down to her open mouth, choking
off any scream she might try to make. Another jolt to her
body, driving her under so that only her hair swirls on the
surface. Then it too is sucked below in a final and terrible
jerking motion. HOLD on the eddies and swirls until we're
sure it's all over.
EXT. CLOSE ON TOM ON BEACH
In his shorts, laughing to himself, turning in slow stoned
circles, held prisoner by his windbreaker which seems to
have him in an armlock, as he struggles to free his arm from
a tight sleeve. As he turns, we hear the alma maters in the
background, from the fire.
INT. BRODY HOUSE - BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING
A shaft of morning sun blasts through the crack between the
bottom of the shade and the windowsill, falling across the
heads of the sleeping couple on the bed. It catches Martin
Brody right across the eyes, bringing him up from sleep.
The job is completed by the clock radio, which clicks on
with local fisherman's report and weather.
RADIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Hayes Landing reports conditions
good, with stripers and jacks. The
Coast Guard has no storm warning
from Block Island to Cape Hatteras;
a light chop with freshening winds,
continued clear and mild... (etc.)
Ellen Brody burrows her head under the covers, avoiding
morning for a few precious minutes more.
BRODY
How come the sun didn't used to shine
in here?
ELLEN
'cause when we bought the house it
was Autumn. This is summer. Feed the
dogs.
We hear the scampering toenails of two cocker spaniels
scrabbling around the foot of the bed. Brody swings out of
bed, wearing shorts, socks, and tee shirt.
BRODY
Right.
ELLEN
Do you see the kids?
BRODY
Probably out in the back yard.
ELLEN
In Amity, you say 'Yahd.'
(she gives it the
Boston sound)
BRODY
The kids are in the yahd, playing
near the cah. How's that sound?
ELLEN
Like you're from N'Yawk.
(gives it Brooklyn
sound)
BRODY
Give me 30 years, I'll get it.
He leads the dogs out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen.
INT. BRODY KITCHEN - MORNING
Brody enters, sets down some dog food, goes to make coffee,
starts to fill kettle to boil water, the cold water rushes
through and out the burnt-out bottom of the kettle.
BRODY
Did you burn another kettle? Y'know
you're a fire hazard? This is the
third one!
ELLEN (O.S.)
I never hear the whistle.
BRODY
Feed the dogs.
Ellen Brody, a tall, attractive blonde woman, enters from
upstairs. She's still slightly sleepy, not what you'd call
an "Instant-On" person. Mornings are not her best time.
ELLEN
You want to go through those?
(she indicates bag of
clothes)
I'm taking them to the Thrift Shop.
It's Marcia Vaughn's pet charity.
Pick out what you want to keep --
it's mostly your city clothes.
BRODY
(looking through bag,
remembering)
I used to wear this to the Garden.
Garbage strikes. Dog shit. Muggers.
(he puts it all behind)
Ship it.
ELLEN
Don't be silly -– You're going to
make summer better for them...
Before Brody can answer, Michael, his oldest boy, enters,
holding his hand. There is bright new blood on it, but he is
sensibly unconcerned. It's a normal childhood scrape.
MICHAEL
Cut my hand. Hit by a vampire.
BRODY
On the swing? I told you not to play
near there until I sanded it down.
(to Ellen)
See what your son did?
ELLEN
Go upstairs and bring Mommy a band-
aid.
Michael goes on out and upstairs. Ellen fumbles in her pocket
and produces Brody's new glasses, which she holds out to
him.
ELLEN
Don't forget these.
BRODY
Oh, yeah.
(he puts them on)
How do I look? Older, huh?
ELLEN
I think they make you look sexy.
Brody reacts to this, and bends to kiss her lightly. Then
more seriously.
BRODY
Sexy, hm? What was I before?
ELLEN
Older, sillier.
BRODY
(as he goes to make
coffee, he fumbles
with the new glasses)
I don't want to depend on these
things, y'know -– sometimes you can
weaken your eyes.
He looks out the window to the view beyond, discovering some
new wonder in the fresh sunlit morning.
BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW – OUTSIDE THE HOUSE
Sean, the younger child, is happily romping in the summer
air, enjoying the very air he breathes.
BRODY
Let's see...
The phone rings.
INT. BRODY KITCHEN – DAY
Brody answers one of two phones on the wall.
BRODY
Brody... yeah, what's up... mmm...
Well, what do they usually do, float
or wash up? Really?... okay, I'll
meet both of you at the beach in
(checks watch)
...20 minutes, okay? Okay.
(hangs up)
First goddamn weekend of the summer.
Michael reenters in bathing trunks, with a towel on his
shoulder, his hand washed, holding a band-aid ready for
application. Ellen takes it, and bandages the finger with
care and affection.
ELLEN
There.
(to Brody)
What was that?
Michael heads toward the beach.
BRODY
(struggling to get
his shirt on over
his glasses)
The office.
He gets his shirt on with Ellen's help. She flicks imaginary
dust from the badge on his chest.
ELLEN
Be careful.
BRODY
Here? You gotta be kiddin'.
He gives her a light kiss, starts to go, with his cup.
BRODY
Love ya.
ELLEN
(kissing him back)
Hey Chief. Bring my cup back.
At the door, he takes a windbreaker off a peg and goes on
out.
We can see the Amity Police shoulder patch as he goes to a
van parked outside.
EXT. ISLAND HIGHWAY - MORNING
Martin Brody's Country Squire police wagon rushes past, taking
the view to an enormous billboard depicting a typical summer
day in Amity. A beautiful model splashes in the gold surf,
languishing in a Solarcaine sun. AMITY WELCOMES YOU is written
above her flailing arms.
EXT. AMITY BEACH - DAY
Three small figures in the landscape, walking the beach. The
surf is rough and there is sea-floor debris strewn about
from the receding tide.
CLOSER ANGLE
Deputy Hendricks is searching the shore about one hundred
yards down wind. Meanwhile, Brody, in his casual police
attire, and Tom Cassidy, still in the clothing we saw him in
last night, walk down the beach. Brody fingers the missing
girl's shoes, purse and clothes. In the daylight, Cassidy
misconducts himself, wavering between inflated maturity and
tear-blown adolescence.
BRODY
Christine what?
CASSIDY
Worthingsly... Worthington -- no one
ever died on me before.
BRODY
You picked her up on the ferry.
CASSIDY
I didn't know her.
BRODY
And nobody else saw her in the water?
CASSIDY
Somebody could've -- I was sort of
passed out.
BRODY
Think she might've run out on you?
CASSIDY
Oh, no, sir. I've never had a woman
do that. I'm sure she drowned.
BRODY
You from around here?
CASSIDY
No. Cambridge. Harvard. My family's
in Tuxedo, New York, though.
BRODY
You here for the summer?
CASSIDY
Some friends and me took a house.
BRODY
(genuinely curious)
What d'you pay for a place just for
the summer?
CASSIDY
A thousand apiece, something like
that. There's five of us. And we
each kick in a hundred a week for
beer and cleaning, stuff like that.
BRODY
Pretty stiff.
A shrill whistle makes them turn. Hendricks is fifty yards
away, on his knees. He blows again, a feeble report this
time.
BRODY
Maybe that's your girl.
Brody runs toward Hendricks, Cassidy hesitates, then follows
with:
CASSIDY
(pathetically)
You can't make me look -- !
MASTER ANGLE - THE SAND DUNE
A skein of seaweed garnishes the base of this isolated dune.
The booming waves and fizzing surf make dialogue inaudible.
Deputy Hendricks on hands and knees, looking white as a sheet.
Brody tells Cassidy to wait at the foot of the dune, and
ventures up. Hendricks stops him with a wave-off, saying
something at the same time. Brody nods understanding and
steps up cautiously and looks down. He adjusts his glasses,
trying to make sense of what he is looking at.
Whatever he sees has a marked effect on his entire physique.
Kicking out with his foot, Brody sends dozens of angry
horseshoe crabs into an escape frenzy and they boil over the
top of the dune and down its slopes.
Cassidy takes a few uneasy steps backwards when Brody waves
him over. He shakes his head. An awkward moment. Then Cassidy
shuffles forward and up the few remaining feet, his eyes
looking everywhere but down. Brody says something else and
Cassidy shakes his head again, eyes out at sea. Brody puts
his hand gently around the quaking man's shoulder.
Nodding, he starts to look down, an inch at a time. He looks.
He, too, can't make out what it is at first. Then he
understands.
The jolt that assaults Cassidy is not unexpected. He falls
backward in a sitting position as though shot. Nods yes --
it's her. Brody turns and slides off the dune, stumbling
close. Hear his breathing. He looks around, envisioning the
week ahead of him....
QUICK SHARP CUT
Chrissie's remains, incomplete from the chest down, horribly
bitten. (NOTE: See Hooper's dialog in Sc. 91 for complete
description of corpse.)
INT. BRODY'S OFFICE - DAY
Brody walks through the door and enters his office, holding
a fizzing glass of Alka-Seltzer. Polly, his sixty-one year
old secretary follows close on his heels with her shorthand
pad of messages and reminders.
In the outer office, Hendricks and Cassidy slump into chairs,
sipping from fizzing dixie cups.
Brody dips into file drawers for the appropriate forms. He
gently turns on Polly, who is behind him.
BRODY
If this is going to work, you've got
to keep current stuff out here, and
put 'closed' files in there. The
'Pendings' stay on my desk, okay?
Brody slips behind his typewriter, putting paper in the
machine with the effortless ease of years of practice. He's
obviously no stranger to paperwork. He touch types, hardly
ever looking down, checking his notes and listening with one
ear to Polly.
He is affected by what he's seen, but there's work to be
done.
POLLY
This is in no order of importance,
Chief: There's a meeting on the Amity
Town Council on Aging this Monday
night, Bentoncourt Hall. The Fire
Inspector wants you to go over the
fireworks site with him before he
catches the one o'clock ferry. Mainly,
you have a batch of calls about that
new Karate school.
CLOSE - ACCIDENT REPORT
Brody has just typed the girl's name. He skips the space for
Cause-of-Death, and just under it types the Next-of-Kin
information he has collected from her wallet.
POLLY
Searle's Rent-a-Bike, the Rainy Ale,
Tisberry's Hardware... they say it's
those nine-year-olds from the school
practicing karate on all those nice
picket fences.
The phone rings and Polly picks it up.
POLLY
It's the Coroner. Somebody pass away
in the night?
Brody nestles the phone between ear and collar, listening,
as he turns to the typewriter.
BRODY
Jesus, Santos.
INSERT - ACCIDENT REPORT
Cause-of-Death line rolls into place. The hammers punch out:
SHARK ATTACK.
BRODY
leans forward, staring at what he just wrote. Polly cocks
her head and removes the phone from his ear.
POLLY
What's the matter?
Brody takes a breath. A new resolve comes over him.
BRODY
Polly, I want to know what water
recreation is on for today.
POLLY
Right this minute?
Brody gets up and moves hastily toward the door.
BRODY'S OUTER OFFICE
Cassidy and Hendricks look up as Brody enters.
BRODY
(To Hendricks)
Where'd you hide the 'Beach Closed'
signs?
HENDRICKS
We never had any. What's the problem?
A local merchant comes through the door.
LOCAL MERCHANT
Glad I caught you. There's a city
truck with New Hampshire plates parked
right in front of my...
Brody pushes past him and out the door.
EXT. AMITY MAIN STREET – DAY
In the busy center of a town preparing for the big Fourth of
July weekend, Brody wends his way around sidewalk activity,
purpose and haste in each stride. As he turns a corner a
little man in a white smock emerges from the Funeral Parlor.
This is Carl Santos, Amity's part-time coroner. Santos looks
both ways before crossing Colonial Drive.
Brody passes Keisel's Bicycle Rental, navigating an awkward
course through an odd assortment of Schwinns that line the
sidewalk in front of a demolished white picket fence. Keisel
intercepts Brody on the run.
KEISEL
(he stares at Brody's
face)
Wait-a-minute.
(stares some more)
Glasses, right?
Brody nods yes, and starts to move away, but Keisel holds on
to him.
KEISEL
Look at those fences! Little guys
about eight to ten years old. And
look at this!
He holds up bicycle. The bicycle's spokes are bent and broken
from some sort of blows.
KEISEL
They did that with their bare hands.
BRODY
Call me later in the day, okay, Harry?
ANGLE - AMITY GAZETTE NEWSPAPER OFFICE - PORCH
Santos emerges with Ben Meadows, the stylish, late-thirties
editor of the Amity Gazette. Together they cut a beeline for
the other side of the street.
ANGLE - AMITY STREET
Past taverns and chowder shacks, past bleacher construction
and July Fourth posters, Brody enters Hardware and Sporting
Goods... so overstocked that beach umbrellas, aluminum deck
chairs, and rainbow beach towels splash a surplus of color
from the display window to the sidewalk.
INT. HARDWARE STORE – DAY
The store proprietor is busy at work on an inventory list
with a mainland delivery man.
LYNWOOD
Stuff's no good to me in August when
the Pilgrims come in June...
(to Brody)
Go on and help yourself to whatever
you need, Chief. Can you work the
register?
EXT. HARDWARE STORE AND STREET - DAY
Brody emerges with enough poster-board, wooden stakes, nails,
paint, and brushes to close every beach on the island. He
starts back the way he came when Hendricks shoots up the
street in the patrol jeep. He stops fast enough to call
attention, leans out the window.
HENDRICKS
Polly told me to tell you there's a
scout troop in Avril Bay doing the
mile swim for their Merit Badges. I
couldn't call them in, there's no
phone out there.
BRODY
(hands him the sign
material)
Get out of there – take these back
to the office and make up some 'Beach
Closed' signs, and let Polly do the
printing.
HENDRICKS
What's the matter with my printing?
EXT. VAUGHN'S REALTY – DAY
Revealing Larry Vaughn, the Mayor of Amity, exchanging
anxieties with Ben Meadows and Coroner Santos and two other
city Selectmen. They come out in a group, reach the sunlight,
and squint down the street as Brody careens around the corner
and out of sight. Deputy Hendricks, laden with his arts and
crafts, passes them on the street front.
VAUGHN
What have you got there, Lenny?
HENDRICKS
We had a shark attack at South Chop
this morning, Mayor. Fatal. Gotta
batten down the beach.
Vaughn and group exchange horrified looks, but we get the
impression it is not in response to the shark-attack news.
VAUGHN
Who've you told this to, Lenny?
HENDRICKS
I just found out about it -- but
there's a bunch of Boy Scouts in the
water a coupla miles down the coast
from where we found the girl. Avril
Bay, thereabouts. Chief went to dry
them off.
VAUGHN
(to Meadows)
Take my car, okay?
(to Hendricks)
You come with us, Lenny.
HENDRICKS
I've got all these signs here...
VAUGHN
C'mon, it'll give us time to think
about what they're going to say.
They all crowd into a Cadillac El Dorado with Vaughn Realty
signs on the doors.
EXT. AVRIL BAY - DAY
A flotilla of twenty exhausted Boy Scouts round a buoy that
marks the official course. A rowboat with Scoutmaster using
a bullhorn keeps pace, and urges the boys on.
SCOUTMASTER
(bullhorn effect)
Let's go, Robbie. You too, Hofner.
Boyle, keep your head up. Alberts,
keep kicking...
(etc., ad lib)
EXT. ON THE BEACH AT AVRIL BAY - DAY
Two older Seascouts look on with stop watches and clipboards,
while some Parents shade their eyes from the sun, watching
their offspring. Brody pulls up in the Amity Police jeep,
and starts toward the people. Behind him, Vaughn's Cadillac
pulls up and skids to a stop. In it are Vaughn, Meadows, the
Doctor, maybe a Selectman, and Hendricks, with his arms still
full of sign material. Vaughn intercepts Brody, the others
circle around him, effectively slowing his progress through
the sand to the scouts.
VAUGHN
Martin!
(he catches up with
him)
Are you going to shut down the beach
on your own authority?
BRODY
Do I need any more authority?
MEADOWS
Technically, you need the instruction
of a civic ordinance, or a special
meeting of the town selectmen...
VAUGHN
(the good guy)
That's just going by the book. We're
just a little anxious that you're
rushing into something serious here.
This is your first summer.
BRODY
Now tell me something I don't know.
VAUGHN
All I'm saying is that Amity is a
summer town -- we need summer dollars,
and if they can't swim here, they'll
use the beaches at Cape Cod, or Long
Island.
BRODY
So we should set out a smorgasbord?
MEADOWS
We're not even sure what it was.
BRODY
What else could've done that?
VAUGHN
(to Doctor)
Boat propeller?
DOCTOR
I think, possibly... sure. A boating
accident.
VAUGHN
Some weekend tramp accidentally goes
swimming too far, she's a little
drunk, a fishing boat comes along --
MEADOWS
Remember when Fred Ganz went
scalloping in his BVD's? He was going
to swim to New Bedford, he said.
The men all laugh, ad lib their remembrances of this
foolishness.
MEADOWS
...and Bill Mayhew almost caught him
in his net...?
BRODY
(interrupting the
merriment)
Doctor, you're the one who told me
what it was!
DOCTOR
I was wrong. We'll have to amend the
report.
MEADOWS
We never had that kind of trouble
here.
VAUGHN
I don't think you can appreciate the
gut reaction people have to these
things.
BRODY
I was only reacting to what I was
told.
Brody looks out to the water where the scouts are rounding
another buoy on the home stretch.
VAUGHN
(taking Brody aside)
It's all psychological, anyway. You
yell 'Barracuda' and everyone says
'huh'. You yell 'Shark' and we've
got a panic on our hands. I think we
all agree we don't need a panic this
close to the 4th of July.
Vaughn indicates the beach where the Scouts are flopping out
onto the sand, exhausted, glad to be finished.
BRODY
I can't work in a vacuum. Why don't
you make Hendricks Chief? His family's
been here since the Puritans -- half
this island are his cousins.
VAUGHN
Martin, we hired the best man we
could find.
All ad lib agreement.
VAUGHN
We need someone who isn't prejudiced
by old feuds or family ties, someone
who can referee things.
MEADOWS
You have our complete support.
VAUGHN
Now then. We've got a vandalism
problem we ought to talk about...
The others surround Brody as Vaughn leads the way back to
the cars, ad libbing their problem with the little karate
choppers.
Hendricks puts the signs back into the trunk of Vaughn's
Cadillac. Vaughn waves casually to the Scouts and swimmers
who are vigorously toweling off in the background.
EXT. AMITY STREET - DAY
In front of Amity's only Music Store, a battered old pick-up
truck pulls in to the curb. Quint and his mate cross silently
heading into the music store.
INT. AMITY MUSIC STORE - DAY
A gently tinkling bell tolls Quint's entrance. Inside the
store, a ten-year-old boy is being shown a clarinet. He is
playing a mellow low tone, and running "Ode to Joy." Quint
looms past him like Neptune rising from the deep, and lets
his hand drop on the counter with a slap that sounds like a
club on flesh. The Shopkeeper abandons the little boy and
meets Quint.
SHOPKEEPER
Hello, Mr. Quint.
QUINT
Four spools of Number 12 piano wire,
Okay? I ordered them.
SHOPKEEPER
(finding them under
the counter)
Yessir, right here. What do those
fish do, eat this stuff?
QUINT
They choke on it.
Without waiting for it to be wrapped, he picks up the gleaming
wire in his gnarled fist, and drops a bill on the counter.
SHOPKEEPER
Bye now.
No answer from Quint, who stops and sings along with the
boy.
The little kid's music degenerates into a series of awkward
squeaks and blurps, as Quint stares at him. Quint continues
out the door, threading his way through the people in the
street like some great fish. As he gets up into the cab of
his pick-up, its door swings open so we can see a crude
stylized shark decorating its side. It slams behind him as
Quint gets in and drives away.
EXT. AMITY BEACH - DAY
A plump jelly-bowl of a woman plunges into the ocean. There's
enough there to satisfy the most gluttonous shark. Buoyant,
joyful, she splashes away in abandon. From her, we pan off
to reveal other cheerful bathers enjoying that last
uncluttered weekend before the season starts in earnest.
ANGLE ON THE WATERLINE
A Man and his dog are romping at the water's edge. The Man
is throwing a stick out into the surf, the dog, a happy
retriever, is bounding into the waves after it.
TWO YOUNG PEOPLE ON THE BEACH
A Girl and her Boyfriend leave their blanket and run for the
water, playing tag, chasing each other, having a wonderful
time.
ANGLE ON BIRTHDAY PARTY ON THE SAND - MARTIN AND ELLEN BRODY
He is sitting stiffly in a beach chair, scanning the beach
with careful, cautious looks, eyeballing everything that's
going on.
Around their particular blanket and umbrella are a number of
adults and their kids, the youngsters gathered to celebrate
Michael's birthday. Ellen is dishing out ice cream and cake
from a cooler chest to the raucous 10-year-olds. Michael's
hand is still bandaged.
MAX TAFT
(an adult)
Looks like another big season. Gets
worse every year.
MRS. TAFT
And none of them from the Island.
Just a lot of bother.
Brody (and we) hear a shrill scream from the water. He
stretches to look past the group, to see what's happening
out there.
BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW - THE WATER
The young lady is disappearing under the water, pulled under
the waves by some force. She is shrieking. She pops right up
again riding the shoulders of her boyfriend, who pulled her
under. She's laughing hysterically. Brody is unamused.
THE ADULTS
BRODY
(to Taft)
What?
TAFT
Present company excepted, but off-
islanders are a pain in the butt.
Pardon my French.
Ellen captures Sean, and holds him playfully, an example.
ELLEN
What about this kid? What if he were
born here. That make him an islander?
TAFT
Just 'cause a cat has kittens in an
oven, it don't make them muffins.
SEAN
I'm not a muffin! I'm a boy!
Brody rumples his hair and sets him off to play.
ANGLE ON ANOTHER SMALL BOY, PLAYING ALONE
It's Alex Kintner, and his mother, nearby, reading a novel.
Alex is towing a funny rubber raft, and headed for the water.
MRS. KINTNER
Alex! Alex Kintner! Where do you
think you're going?
ALEX
Water. Just once more, please?
MRS. KINTNER
Let me see your fingers --
He holds out his hands.
MRS. KINTNER
They're beginning to prune. 10 minutes
more.
Alex starts for the ocean. Behind him, Michael and his gang
are also heading for the inviting waves. Brody is watching
them go, his spine rigid with tension.
MAN AND HIS DOG
As Alex and the boys hit the water, we see the man throwing
his stick into the waves, his dog swimming strongly after
it.
BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW
Out beyond the kids and the dog, the Fat Lady is bobbing
around, out way too far, isolated from the other swimmers.
UNDERWATER VIEW - EXT. - DAY
A fish's-eye view of the bathers: lots of little kicking
legs, rafts with tasty arms dangling in the blue, slowing
circling, favoring one raft (little Alex's). The Kintner
boy's legs and arms are kicking and paddling, producing
bizarre underwater vibrations of more than passing interest.
Dog goes by, dog-paddling along.
ON THE BEACH
Brody is half-rising, looking out over the water. The Fat
Lady is not where he remembered her. He scans the water
anxiously.
ELLEN
Do you want the boys to come in?
Honey, if you're worried...
A Black Object swims across the water. It's the dog, breasting
against the surf.
ANGLE ON THE WATER - BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW
It's the Fat Lady, floating, relaxing. A black object swims
up to her. It's not the dog. It rears up out of the water.
It's a man in a black bathing cap. They exchange distant
pleasantries, he strokes away.
ANOTHER ANGLE - WATER
Alex Kintner, paddling around, making boat sounds, tooting,
going "vroom, vroom."
ANGLE ON THE BOY AND GIRL
They kiss, embrace, kiss again. Strong stuff. They sink
beneath the waves, knotted in an embrace.
ANGLE ON MICHAEL BRODY AND HIS FRIENDS
He's trying to salvage a soggy piece of birthday cake, holding
it above the water, paddling with his other hand. The bandage
has come part way loose, and his cut is trailing in the water.
BRODY AND ELLEN ON THE BEACH
Ellen is rubbing suntan oil on his back, and he is allowing
himself to relax part way. His eyes still nervously scan the
beach in a constant surveillance. Mr. Keisel is coming out
of the water, toweling off vigorously, exclaiming to himself.
BRODY
(to Keisel)
How's the water?
KEISEL
Too cold. I'm going in again Labor
Day. Hope we get this weather next
weekend.
ELLEN
You're very tight, y'know?
(digs in)
Right there.
BRODY
Ow.
(he sees something)
He's gotta be more careful in the
water...
ANGLE ON THE GANG PLAYING IN THE WATER
Michael has just been drenched. He splashes back. A big
waterfight ensues, the boys splashing and chopping at the
water, shouting battle cries and karate whoops. Alex is
paddling around near them, but not involved with them.
ALONG THE WATERLINE ON THE BEACH
The Man with the Dog is whistling into the ocean, looking
for his dog.
DOG MAN
Buster! Hey, Buster! Here boy!
(whistles)
He continues to ad lib calling his
dog, but there's no answer, no dog
in the water.
THE WATERFRONT
A huge splash explodes in the water near the gang, an eruption
of foam and spray that stops everyone cold for a moment.
They stop to see who was responsible.
A KID (MATHEW)
Hey, no fair splashing in the eyes!
Before anyone can answer, another kid (P.J.) renews the
battle, whooping a karate cry, and slashing at the water
with his hand like a little kung-fu warrior, advancing through
the waves.
CLOSE ON MATHEW, SPLASHING BACK
He hits the water, which sprays up suspiciously pink. He
stares at it, surprised.
CLOSE ON P.J.
His hands are dripping deep pink, the red matting his hair,
running into his eyes. He looks down. The boys are surrounded
with a deep pink slick, their little bodies ringed by a
spreading stain of blood.
ANGLE ON SHORE, A TOURIST AND HIS WIFE
He's pointing frantically out to sea.
TOURIST
Something in the water. Right there!
Didn't anyone see it?
WOMAN
There's blood in the water.
ANGLE ON BRODY
He leaps to his feet, nearly knocking Ellen over, and starts
for the water.
ELLEN
What is it...?
Brody is pelting towards the water. He kicks sand over an
annoyed Mrs. Kintner, who looks up, just in time to hear
Brody's bellow.
BRODY
Michael! Sean! Out of the water.
Everybody out of the water! Michael!
Get out!
His urgency communicates itself to the others. Ellen snatches
Sean up from where he's been playing in the sand. Other
parents are calling their kids, hysteria mounting. People
rush into the water, dragging their children and families
bodily out of the ocean. The first kids coming out of the
surf are frantically trying to wash the sticky blood off
their bodies. The sight of the red sends the beach into a
full panic.
CLOSE ON BRODY
He rushes into the water, up to his ankles, and suddenly
stops, unable to move into deeper water. He is urging Michael
out, holding his hands out to his son, who is slogging through
the surf towards his dad. He stands there immobilized by the
water, nervously helping people out of it onto the beach.
ANGLE ON MICHAEL
As he emerges from the water, Alex Kintner's raft washes in
behind him, ripped in half, the water pink, the foam spreading
the stain onto the sand as the wave breaks.
ANGLE ON MRS. KINTNER
Her voice rising into panic and hysteria with each unanswered
cry.
MRS. KINTNER
Alex! Alex? Alex...!
EXT - THE COUNTY COURTHOUSE AND COUNTY OFFICES - DAY
We are looking at the closed double white front doors of the
building, through which we can hear a rolling boil of agitated
conversation. After a beat, they open to reveal Mrs. Kintner,
looking as though she has been visited by the wrath of God;
in effect, she has. Her eyes are puffy and swollen from
weeping, her clothing is put on and fastened awkwardly, her
gait is not normal. As she walks toward us, Quint enters
with his back to us, they pass without notice; Mrs. Kintner
moving out of sight, Quint leading us through the doors into
the town hall.
INT. COUNTY COURTHOUSE - DAY
A crowd of angry men and women throng the central hallway,
their voices a babble of confusion. Many of them are gathered
around a roughly lettered notice that has been posted on the
town's official bulletin board. It reads.
"A $3000 BOUNTY TO THE MAN OR MEN WHO CATCH AND KILL THE
SHARK THAT KILLED ALEX M. KINTNER ON SUNDAY, JUNE 29, ON THE
AMITY TOWN BEACH."
Vaughn and Brody are on the outskirts of the crowd, which
includes Meadows, some selectmen, and others.
BRODY
Look, I've got to talk to her. This
isn't a contest we want the whole
country entering.
MEADOWS
I agree. If she's going to advertise,
I wouldn't recommend out-of-town
papers. Amity people could take care
of this.
BRODY
I'm responsible for public safety
around here...
VAUGHN
Then go out tomorrow and make sure
no one gets hurt.
(addressing the crowd)
Everybody, could I have your
attention? Since this affects all of
us, I suggest we move into council
chambers, where there's more room...
There is a flurry and a bustle as everyone rearranges
themselves and makes their way into the Amity Selectmen's
Council Chambers.
INT. COUNCIL CHAMBER - DAY
The crowd is thronging into the large room. Already in the
room is a solitary figure, standing all the way in the rear,
watching everyone as they enter. Against the back wall is a
large blackboard used for town business during meetings.
VAUGHN
Well, here we all are; anyone have
any special questions?
DENHERDER
Is that $3000 bounty on the shark in
cash or check?
(laughter from all)
VAUGHN
That's private business between you
brave fishermen and Mrs. Kintner.
(to Brody)
-- Chief --
BRODY
(stepping in)
I'd like to tell you what we're doing
so far. These are some of the steps
I've taken as Chief of Police...
MEADOWS
(leading the direction
of the discussion)
What's going on with the beaches,
Chief?
All react.
BRODY
I'll get to that in a minute. First,
I plan to start our seasonal summer
help early, and to use shark spotters
on beaches open to the sea. I'd like
cooperation from local fishermen,
and I've also contacted the
Oceanographic Institute over on the
mainland.
VAUGHN
(Interrupting -- sotto
voice to Brody)
No need to involve outsiders in our
business, Martin.
WOMAN
Are you going to close the beaches?
BRODY
Larry and I have also decided to
close the beaches for a short time.
Pandemonium. A collective nerve has been touched.
VAUGHN
Only 24 hours!
BRODY
I didn't agree to that!
MRS. TAFT
That official business could take
all summer!
MR. KEISEL
Maybe it's better to close.
Two opinions have been expressed, and the crowd takes sides
vociferously, ad libbing assent or dissent depending on the
point of view held forth.
THOSE IN FAVOR
MR. WISEMAN
We should make sure
there is no danger.
MR. HASSETT
I didn't raise my kids to be some
fish's lunch!
THOSE OPPOSED
MRS. TAFT
The motel is all I own --
you pull the plug on this
town and I go down the
drain with it.
MR. POSNER
Nobody's seen a shark.
MR. POLK
We'll lose business, we
lose taxes, we lose our
shirts!
ANGLE ON QUINT, THE MAN IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM
He has just run his large, coarse fingernails over the
blackboard. He is a large, rough man, a professional fisherman
marked by daily physical toil, About 45 or 50, it's hard to
tell where the scars leave off and the wrinkles begin. There
is a bit of the showman in him, as well as a bit of killer-
whale.
QUINT
(after taking a deep
breath)
You all know me. You know what I do
for a living. I'll go out and get
this bird for you. He's a bad one
and it's not like goin' down the
pond chasing blue-gills and tommy-
cods. This is a fish that can swallow
a man whole. A little shakin', a
little tenderizing and down ya' go.
(a look to Vaughn)
You gotta get this fellow and get
him quick. If you do, it'll bring a
lot of tourist business just to see
him and you've got your business
back on a paying basis.
(beat)
A shark of that size is no pleasure
and I value my neck at a hell of a
lot more'n 3,000 bucks.
(a deadly look)
I'll find him for three. But I'll
kill him for ten.
Crowd reaction.
QUINT
(he rises up)
The bastard is costing you more'n
that every day. Do you wanna stay
alive and annee up the ten or play
it cheap and be on welfare next
winter.
(a final moment)
I'm gonna kill this thing... just a
matter of whether I do it now -- or
at the end of summer.
VAUGHN
Thank you very much, Mr. Quint, the
Selectmen will take your offer under
advisement
INT. BRODY'S STUDY AT HOME - SUNSET
A riffly blur, color alternating with black and white. The
dizziness stops on a book page showing a black and white
rendering of eight species of shark. The banner at the top
of the page reads: THE KNOWN AND REPUTED MANEATERS.
The riffling begins again, stops on a grizzly photograph of
scar tissue on six former shark victims. Riffling -- stop.
Photograph of five Ichthyologists posing on wooden stools,
framed by the enormous jaws of a prehistoric shark from the
family Carcharodon charcharias.
BRODY
his reading glasses reflecting a stack of twelve library
books, all on the subject of sharks and shark attacks. The
door opens and Ellen enters, quietly, in respect for Brody's
mood.
ELLEN
Can you stand something to eat?
BRODY
Love a cup of tea. With lemon.
Ellen walks past Brody to the window and looks out the window
which overlooks the south bay. It is the hour of dusk.
ELLEN
Mikey loves his birthday present.
BRODY
Where is he?
ELLEN
(with a slight laugh)
He's sitting in it.
Brody gets up, concerned, and joins her at the window.
ELLEN
Honey. He has it tied up to the jetty
with a double-knot.
BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW
Michael is sitting in the boat, but two of his young school
chums are in the water, swimming around it. Brody opens the
window and calls down:
BRODY
Son! -- Out of the water now!
MICHAEL
My boat's neat, dad!
BRODY
(turning to Ellen)
I want him out of the ocean.
ELLEN
It's three feet deep, Martin
BRODY
(angry now)
Michael! Come inside!
ELLEN
It's his birthday present, and you
closed the beach, Honey. I told him
not to go in the water after what
happened yesterday. I don't believe
he'll ever do it again.
BRODY
I told him not to go out until he
memorized the handbook and the safety
safety regulations, until he was
sure of himself...
Ellen's eyes drift down to the open book, which is displaying
a reproduction of the famous painting "The Gulf Stream,"
showing a black fisherman in a small dinghy similar to
Michael's being assaulted by the jaws of three man-eating
sharks, circling his boat.
ELLEN
You heard your father! Out right
now!
SUNSET ON THE BEACH
Hendricks and another deputy are assisting Brody. Silhouettes
of townspeople look on like mourners at a funeral.
In the background some workmen are taking down the shutters
from a quaint summer cottage. They pause to watch the
declining moments of the day.
Three Selectmen also stand watching. One of them seems to be
whispering bounty news to three youngish men on a nearby
dune.
Sounds: Surf and hammering.
CUT TO:
EXT. OCEAN AND PIER - NIGHT
Selectman Denherder and his buddy, Charlie, a professional
angler, row towards a tumble-down jetty that leads fifty
feet out into the black water.
DENHERDER
You wanna call it a night after here?
CHARLIE
It's only two-thirty. What, are you
tired?
DENHERDER
Yeah, Charlie, I got my second wind
three nibbles back.
Denherder hefts a bloodstained laundry bag from the
wheelbarrow, revealing about a hundred feet of coiled dog
chain and a large patched inner tube. Charlie takes out a
monster hook and together they push the wheelbarrow onto the
rickety pier that is only about five feet across.
DENHERDER
(reaching into the
bag)
Leg of lamb this time?
CHARLIE
Screw lamb -- let's shoot the sirloin!
DENHERDER
(a hyena laugh)
We're blowin' half the bounty on
bait --
The splintered pier sways to and fro as the men reach the
end and start to work. Charlie baits the hook with a massive
chunk of sirloin while Denherder secures the loose end of
chain to a skinny piling. Charlie then fastens the inner
tube to the chain five feet from the end of the hook.
DENHERDER
One more after this, then I'm going
home.
CHARLIE
Set?
Denherder tugs the chain against the piling to prove that it
is. Charlie heaves the bait. Splash! The inner tube follows
and both men eagerly watch as it floats seaward, the chain
playing out from the wheelbarrow.
CHARLIE
Tide's taking it right out.
Charlie lights his pipe and sits back against a piling. He
turns on his transistor radio and loops one end around a
fractured board. Denherder paces, bored to death.
DENHERDER
You do this all the time, right,
Charlie?
CHARLIE
Twenty years.
DENHERDER
I can't believe that people pay money
to go fishing. This is really dumb.
This isn't even relaxing... it's
just boring.
CLOSE - CHAIN IN WHEELBARROW
Suddenly zipping out, faster and faster, as both men
straighten.
Denherder is goggle-eyed.
DENHERDER
Hey! What's this?
The chain is coming out so fast that it begins to drag the
wheelbarrow to the end of the jetty. A section of chain
tangles around the handle and flips the entire machine into
the air. Both men watch dumbfounded as the inner tube, racing
out to sea in a wake of white water, suddenly dips under.
CHARLIE
Look at him take it!
DENHERDER
Do I set the goddam hook?
CHARLIE
Let him do it! Go-go-go-go-go!
It is then that the chain whips taut against the narrow
pilings.
CLOSE - PILING
A lineup of five decrepit 2 x 4 inch pilings SNAP with a
resounding CRACK.
ANGLE - JETTY
The end of the jetty is yanked loose. Denherder is flipped
like a chip over the side and into the cold night water,
where he manages to snag hold of a splintered timber.
DENHERDER'S POINT OF VIEW
The severed section of jetty, a joined platform of footboards,
is being dragged seaward with Charlie sitting dazed on top
of it, his lit pipe still going.
DENHERDER
CHARLIE! JUMP!
Charlie rolls into the water, sputters, turns to watch the
flotilla of wood draw away.
CLOSE - CHARLIE
looking seaward.
CHARLIE'S POINT OF VIEW
The end of the jetty makes a 180-degree turn and heads back
in his direction.
CHARLIE
Holy Jesus Christ!
Denherder steps up on the broken-off piling just to be out
of the water.
DENHERDER
Get the hell out! Charlie! Swim!
Charlie, inhaling terror, trying to slog to shore. The jetty
is getting closer. Suddenly, an enormous black fin breaks
water like a periscope, making course corrections as it comes
for Charlie.
Denherder jumps from piling to piling, almost losing his
balance on his way to help Charlie. Charlie has reached the
last pylon toward open sea, and his hands clamber for a hold.
But --
INSERT - CHARLIE'S HANDS
The algae is too slippery, and his fingers keep sliding back.
That's when the fin behind him seems to reach up to the sky
and Charlie manages, with Denherder's desperate help, to
make it safely to shore. The remains of the pier float belly-
up in the inlet.
CLOSE ON THE HARBORMASTER OF AMITY - DAY
He is sitting on a little canvas folding chair, eating a
bowl of Cheerios with milk and sugar, watching a panorama of
ineptitude and greed unfold before his old seaman's eyes.
The Amity Pier area is a minor madhouse: out-of-state cars
elbow local vehicles for parking space at the foot of the
dock, and a parade of bounty-hunting townspeople, islanders,
off-islanders, tourist, and others shout and push their way
onto the crowded pier, each carrying some bizarre or
appropriate tool for the real or imagined capture of an
unarmed shark of indeterminate size.
Rods and reels, drop lines, crossbows, slingshots, harpoons,
shotguns, rifles, nets and tridents; every fishing supply
store and sporting goods house within a hundred miles has
been cannibalized to equip this weird array.
ANGLE ON BRODY AND HENDRICKS ARRIVING ON THE SCENE
Not having room to bring their police vehicle anywhere near
this mess, they are proceeding on foot into the confusion.
HENDRICKS
...So then Denherder and Charlie sat
there trying to catch their breath,
and figuring out how to explain to
Charlie's wife what happened to her
freezer full of meat.
BRODY
That wasn't funny.
Some of the locals greet Hendricks with occasional nods of
recognition, or an ad libbed "Hi, Lenny," or "Hey, Lenny."
HENDRICKS
Mrs. Kintner must've put her ad in
Field and Stream.
BRODY
Looks more like the readers of the
National Enquirer.
ANGLE ON BOAT RENTAL - PIER
An argument is in progress between and Out-of-Towner and the
Boat Rental Man.
OUT-OF-TOWNER
You're charging me double the usual
rent! I didn't come up here all the
way from New Rochelle to be gouged
by some Yankee Cracker!
BOAT RENTAL MAN
Prices go up June First every year.
You want a nice cheap, leaky boat,
you go down to the Hamptons.
(he sees Brody)
Right, Chief?
ANGLE LOOKING OUT TO SEA
Making its way through the channel towards the dock is a
sleek, expensive runabout with the name "Fascinatin' Rhythm"
on the stern. It's professionally handled, and rumbles in as
it coasts in towards the dock area. Some other boats clear
the way for it, zig-zagging in the harbor, causing an annoying
chop.
CLOSE ON BOAT
Matt Hooper, a bearded, bespectacled young man with an intent
look, is maneuvering the vessel peering through his windscreen
at the ragtag collection of seafaring loonies all around
him.
BACK TO DOCKSIDE
Hendricks is mediating the argument between the two men, and
we can hear a plaintive "But Lenny," from the local as Brody
sees something that makes him move towards the other side of
the dock. We see him cross to a little boat built for two or
three that is settling low in the water as a seventh man
climbs in with his gear.
BRODY
Hey! You know how many men that's
supposed to hold?
MAN IN BOAT (WALTER)
Whatever's safe, right?
BRODY
What you got ain't safe. You take
some guys off or you don't go out.
BEN GARDNER AND HIS BOAT, FLICKA
Matt Hooper is gliding into the dockside, and Ben throws him
a line to help make fast as he moors. It's a small island of
courtesy in an otherwise discourteous mob. Hooper nods
politely as he ties his boat up and steps onto the dock.
HOOPER
Hello.
GARDNER
Hello, back.
He's standing near where Brody is finishing after his
encounter with the chummers.
Brody approaches Ben Gardner.
BRODY
You going out too, Ben?
GARDNER
Might give it a try. That three
thousand bounty beats working for a
living.
(yells to his Mate)
We ready?
The Mate nods "Yes" and starts to prepare to get under way.
Ben and his Mate move away from the dock, headed towards the
channel and the open sea leaving Felix and Pratt to scamper
around the dock looking for another ride.
ANOTHER DOCK AREA, CLOSE BY
A particularly awkward moment between a small sailboat and a
couple of powerboats. The sailboat is trying to hoist sail
to make it away from the pier under sail, a real yachtsman's
conceit, since Hornblower himself probably couldn't navigate
through this mess. Brody, a landlubber for sure, is trying
to direct traffic to untangle this new mess.
BRODY
Just back up! No, the other way! Cut
it to your left! Your other left!
The big boat, your front end is out
way too far. Little boat, stay still!
Amidst all this, we can hear the angry shouts of the entangled
crews.
SKIPPER 1 (THE SAILBOAT)
Dammit, a vessel under sail has the
right of way!
SKIPPER 2 (MOTORBOAT)
You schmuck, you ain't under sail,
you're goddam drifting!
HOOPER
(stepping in to help)
Ahoy, sail! You got an oar? Well,
scull it out!
SAILBOAT SKIPPER
Tell that stinkpotter to belay!
MOTORBOAT SKIPPER
Tell that ragsetter I'm going to
poke him in the snoot!
HOOPER
Just cast off in turn and make for
the channel, OK?
BRODY
Thanks.
Brody starts back towards the shore, Hooper is by his side.
HOOPER
Excuse me, I wonder if you could
tell me...
Before he can finish, Brody spots something on shore that
moves him to shout to his deputy.
HOOPER
(noticing something)
Is that dynamite?
Brody looks, and stops by a boat that's about to cast off.
He holds out his hand.
BRODY
If that's dynamite, give it here, or
don't leave port.
MAN
Aw, c'mon, it's just fireworks. Sharks
like fireworks, it attracts them.
BRODY
Hand it over.
The man passes Brody a cigar box filled with dynamite sticks.
Brody tucks the dynamite under his arm, and continues down
the pier. Hooper is still with him.
All around them are two distinctly different breeds; the
quiet pros, like Ben Gardner, in well-worn, comfortable
clothes, with efficient, sensible gear, and the amateur
crazies, with all manner of weapons and impractical, silly
tourist clothing.
INT. DOCK SHED - DAY
Brody is on the phone, talking to his office, trying to get
Hendricks' attention. He throws a handful of washers at the
window.
HOOPER
There's a fantail launch out there
that won't make it beyond the
breakwater.
BRODY
You're tellin' me. I swear, this
town has gone crazy.
HOOPER
Officer, I wonder if you could tell
me where I could find Chief Brody?
BRODY
Who are you?
HOOPER
Hooper, Matt Hooper. From the
Oceanographic Institute.
(holds out his hand)
EXTERIOR - OCEAN - DAY
Ben Gardner's boat is in the lead with Gardner's shouting
derisive comments at the crowd headed out from land. The
armada is spread out and moving in a ragged circle, fifteen
boats in all. One man heaves cherry bombs into the water. A
smaller boat going in the opposite direction offers us
Barwood, forking spaghetti leftovers into the ocean while
his friend pours out a bottle of ketchup.
A speedboat chugs by, one of the occupants reading
instructions aloud from a book entitled "Sharks - East Coast,
Vol. I."
boatload of impoverished scallop fishermen throw a net
overboard, full of gaps and split ends. The professionals
look professional, but the landlubbers out for the $3000
make it impossible for everybody. Collisions are barely
averted.
THE RUBE GOLDBERG ERROR
The Out-of-Towner in a small boat is bent over in a life and
death struggle, his rod in a tight arc. His buddy leaps across
to lend a hand.
Twenty yards away in another boat the same struggle ensues.
This time it's the overloaded boat with the poor scallop
fishermen. Shouts of I'M ON! DIG IN! STRIKE! Then a tangle
of tackle springs from the water. They have hooked each other.
Joy turns to swearing. Arnold Felix stands up to applaud
the mishap, while his buddy Pratt takes careful aim with his
Remington 1100 12-gauge and blasts at the tackle as if it
were a clay pigeon. The tangle explodes --
Both the Out-of-Towners and the Scallop Fisherman falls over
backward --
ANGLE - HARRY'S BOAT
Three men are aboard, one holding a rod which holds a fast
arc. A few yards off stern we see a triangular dorsal fin
crossing back and forth, struggling, jerking, the mighty
tail threshing. One man is screaming success, the other two
slapping the angler on the back.
CLOSE - PRATT AND FELIX
They spot it and sour.
PRATT
Well, get over there! He ain't caught
it yet!
The owner of Pratt's boat throws it forward and Pratt removes
a .45 automatic from the holster of his belt. He tests it,
firing once in the air. As they near the scene of the
struggle, eleven other boats begin converging, until --
HARRY'S BOAT
Everyone wants to get into the act. They are attacking the
threshing beast with all they've got. Pratt uses his
automatic, another blasts point blank with a shotgun. There
are occasional water ricochets and the bounty hunters duck
from time to time as bullets skip by. Finally, the shark
stops threshing.
FELIX AND PRATT
Their boat has moved close to the shark, closer than Harry's.
PRATT
(exultant)
Hand me that pole! Quick!
One of his party in the over-filled boat grabs a gaff and
leans out to grab the moribund shark. But Harry won't give
up the line, still reeling in.
HARRY
Beat it! I hooked him!
PRATT
How's the family, Harry?
(to the man with gaff)
Go on and do it!
MAN WITH GAFF
We split down the middle?
Pratt nods reluctantly. The man swings, lodges the gaff and
hauls the shark up onto the gunwale. A paroxysm of cheers
from the surrounding boats. Smoke flares are fired into the
air.
HARRY
(a tug-of-war)
Let go my shark!
It is a ten-foot tiger, and what a mess -- splattered with
bullet punctures, gashes, bleeding from several orifices.
But it is not dead -- it kicks back to life and threatens to
capsize the boat. Pratt panics and fires six times with his
.45. The bullets pierce the shark's head, pass through, and
split the fiberglass hull through which a flood of water
rises. Everybody stands up as the boat slips beneath them.
INT. MORGUE - DAY
The Amity Morgue is also the Amity Funeral Home, a Victorian
house that normally serves as the community's mortuary. The
Coroner, a professional small-town GP, is standing by as
Hooper is speaking into a sophisticated cassette recorder
with a headpiece that leaves his hands free for measurement
with a calibrator or calipers.
BRODY
Let's show Mr. Hooper our accident.
With a shrug, the Coroner slides open the drawer.
CLOSE ON HOOPER
He is looking down as the drawer slides past him, still matter-
of-fact, turning on his recorder.
HOOPER
Victim One, identified as Christine
Watkins, female Caucasian...
The sheet has just been lifted, and Hooper stares down at
the lump on the slab. He stops, turns off his recorder as
emotions wage war with his senses. Rationality wins, and he
turns on the recorder again.
HOOPER
...height and weight may only be
estimated from partial remains. Torso
severed in mid-thorax, eviscerated
with no major organs remaining. May
I have a drink of water? Right arm
severed above the elbow with massive
tissue loss from upper musculature.
Portions of denuded bone remaining.
(tense, to Brody)
-- did you notify the coast guard?
BRODY
No, it was local jurisdiction.
HOOPER
Left arm, head, shoulders, sternum
and portions of ribcage intact.
(to Brody)
Please don't smoke. With minor post-
mortem lacerations and abrasions.
Bite marks indicate typical non-frenzy
feeding pattern of large squali,
possibly carchaninus lonimanus, or
isurus glaucas. Gross tissue loss
and post-mortem erosion of bite
surfaces prevent detailed analysis;
however, teeth and jaws of the
attacking squali must be considered
above average for these waters.
(to Brody again)
-- Did you go out in a boat and look
around?
BRODY
No, we just checked the beach...
HOOPER
(turns off the recorder)
It wasn't an 'accident,' it wasn't a
boat propeller, or a coral reef, or
Jack the Ripper. It was a shark. It
was a shark.
EXT. DOCK AREA - DAY
We open close on ugly, open shark's jaws, still oozing blood
and gore. As the shark is hoisted up into the air on a gin-
pole hoist dockside, Meadows is seen passing with his
secretary and a photographer from the Amity Gazette. A crowd
of returning fishermen from the Armada and townspeople are
gathering around the fish as it is hoisted tail-up into the
classic sports fisherman's trophy shot.
MEADOWS
Ginny, get this out on the state
wire to AP and UPI in Boston and New
York. Have one of them pick it up
for the national and call Dave Axelrod
in New York and tell him this is
from me and he owes me one... let's
get a picture.
As he and the photographer turn to mob, we see Hooper and
Brody arriving from the morgue. Hooper immediately heads
towards the shark, while Brody pauses and we see a look of
relief and delight cross his features.
HOOPER
Well, if one man can catch a fish in
50 days, then I guess 50 of these
bozos can catch a fish in one day --
beginner's luck.
BRODY
(crossing to men around
shark)
You did it! Did Ben Gardner catch
this?
Men ad lib "No, I caught it..." "I hooked him," etc.
MEADOWS
Okay, everybody, I want to get a
picture for the paper -- could
everyone clear out of the way?
He continues to call directions and move people out of the
way to set up his shot. Hooper is measuring the shark.
MEADOWS
Could you get out of the shot, young
man?
HOOPER
Who, me? Okay...
(he drifts off)
The men (Felix, Pratt, et al) get Brody to join them in the
shot. The whole town and the Armada fishermen all line up in
a classic "high school" graduating class shot with the
victorious fishermen kneeling in front, and the rest of the
Armada and Townspeople arranged behind them. Hendricks hold
up the "Beach Closed" sign in ironic victory.
ANGLE SHOWING VAUGHN APPROACHING THE DOCK
Brody spots the Mayor coming towards the dock, and detaches
himself from the group to join him.
BRODY
Larry, if you'd see these clowns
leave, you'd never believe they'd
come back with anything. But they
got him!
VAUGHN
That's good. That's real good. Ben
Meadows getting pictures for the
paper.
BRODY
Sure he is.
HOOPER AND THE FISHERMEN
The men who landed the monster are in a tight cluster,
debating something with Hooper, who is dwarfed by the big
beer bellies and ham-fisted hands all around him. It's
probable we don't even see him.
The Men ad lib "What kind of shark is this?" "It's a shark
like in the movies they got sharks." "It's a man-eater, for
sure." "I bet it's a record-breaker," etc.
HOOPER (O.S.)
It's a tiger shark. Very rare in
these waters, and definitely a
maneater.
Hooper enters the circle, and picks up where he left off,
measuring the shark's teeth. Others watch him. Charlie and
Denherder walk over to the shark. Charlie punches it.
BRODY AND VAUGHN
They are walking down to the shark together.
VAUGHN
Who's that young man?
BRODY
Matt Hooper, the specialist they
send down from the Oceanographic
Institute.
VAUGHN
(speaking to everyone)
I think we all owe a debt of gratitude
to these men for catching this
monster.
Brody and Vaughn are by now near the circle of fishermen,
who are surrounding Hooper, raising their voices at him.
PRATT
Whadya mean, 'Bite Radius?' What's
that?
GAFFER
Teeth are teeth, right?
HOOPER
I didn't say this wasn't the shark,
I just said I wasn't sure this was
the one...
BRODY
What d'ya mean?
HOOPER
There are hundreds of different kinds
of sharks; makos, blues, hammerheads,
white-tips... any one of them could've
attacked. Look -- shark digestion is
slow. We could open this one up, and
find whatever he's been eating is
still inside.
VAUGHN
That's disgusting! This is the
largest, meanest, most vicious shark
ever landed off Amity Island, and a
known maneater!
HOOPER
Let's just cut him open and see what's
inside...
BRODY
Why not, Larry? We could get a
positive confirmation that way.
VAUGHN
Be reasonable, boys -- this isn't
the time or the place to do some
kind of half-assed autopsy on a fish.
Ben...
(to Meadows)
do you have all the pictures you
need?
MEADOWS
Plenty.
HOOPER
Wait a minute...
Felix, Pratt and the others ad lib disagreement. "You're not
gonna cut up my trophy," etc.
VAUGHN
(seeing something
offstage, with low
intensity)
I am not going to stand here and
watch this fish cut open and see
some kid fall out on the dock.
Besides...
(he indicates off)
We see Mrs. Kintner approaching, dressed in black.
VAUGHN
(to Brody)
Chief, I'll take responsibility for
this. Boys, cut this ugly sonofabitch
down before he stinks up the whole
island. Harve, tomorrow you and Carl
take him out and dump him right in
the drink.
MRS. KINTNER JOINS THE GROUP
She seeks out Brody, and stops in front of him.
MRS. KINTNER
Chief Brody?
He nods, she slaps him full across the face. There is an
embarrassed silence. Some people leave, following a trend
that began with the first mention of cutting open the shark.
MRS. KINTNER
My Alex was a beautiful little boy
and you killed him. Did you know
that? You knew there was a shark out
there. You knew a girl got killed
here last week. I just found that
out. But you knew. You knew it was
dangerous, but you let people go
swimming anyway. You knew all those
things, and still my boy is dead now
and there's nothing you can do about
that. My boy is dead. I wanted you
to know that.
She stops, unable to continue. Her father takes her arm and
leads her away. Pratt, Harry and the others trail off after
her. During the rest of the scene, the camera tightens in on
Brody to the exclusion of the others.
VAUGHN
I'm sorry, Martin. She's in a sick,
terrible state.
HOOPER
Look, maybe this is the wrong time
to pursue this, but I'm not sure...
Before Hooper can finish, Brody's shoulders slump and he
goes slack.
BRODY
(almost to himself)
She's right.
VAUGHN
Let's all get out of here, this place
stinks.
BRODY
I'm going home.
He turns and leaves abruptly, surrendering the dock to Vaughn
and Hooper, who eye each other with mutual dis-admiration.
INT. BRODY HOUSE - NIGHT - DINING ROOM
Brody and Ellen, Sean and Michael, have all finished dinner.
Brody's plate is untouched, a virgin meatloaf. His glass, on
the other hand, is well used, with the remnants of a stiff
scotch and ice. He is staring across the table at the
youngest, Sean, who makes a face at him. He makes a face
back.
They play this game together for a few minutes.
BRODY
C'mere and give Daddy a kiss.
SEAN
Why?
BRODY
Because he needs it.
Sean gives Daddy the kiss. Brody shoos him and Michael off
to bed. Ellen, who is feeling progressively more left out
with each passing moment, gets up abruptly and clears a few
dishes. Brody is not letting her into his world for the
moment, and it shows. There's a knock at the door.
HOOPER (O.S.)
Martin Brody residence?
Ellen opens the door for him.
HOOPER
Hi. I'm Matt Hooper. If your husband
is here, I'd like to talk to him.
ELLEN
So would I. Come on in.
Hooper enters. He's carrying a couple of bottles of wine
which he picked up in town. He sits down near Brody.
ELLEN
Would you like something? Some coffee?
HOOPER
(seeing Brody's plate)
Is anyone having this...?
He starts in on it, as soon as someone has indicated "go
ahead."
HOOPER
Dynamite!
(to Brody)
How was your day...?
BRODY
Swell.
They exchange a long look that evolves into a slightly
desperate, but shared laughter.
HOOPER
(producing wine)
Here... one red, one white.
They laugh some more. Ellen is again left out of it.
HOOPER
(boning his fish)
Ummm. Really good.
Brody begins stripping the foil off the wine, screwing in a
corkscrew, etc.
ELLEN
My husband tells me you're in sharks.
HOOPER
I wouldn't put it that way. But I
love sharks.
ELLEN
You love sharks?
HOOPER
I do.
(he tells a story
about his boyhood
and a shark)
But you've still got a problem here,
there's a shark just off the island
somewhere.
BRODY
How come you have to tell them that?
ELLEN
Excuse me, but what are you talking
about? Didn't they catch the shark
this afternoon? It was on the Cape
station news.
HOOPER
They caught a shark, not the shark.
Big difference. I could've proved it
this afternoon, by cutting that one
open and examining his stomach
contents. Also, his bite was too
small.
Brody has the cork out of the wine. Pop.
HOOPER
I was lucky to find that in town --
it's an estate bottled vintage year...
Brody takes the fine wine, and pours it into his drink glass
filling the tumbler to the top with ice cubes, diluted scotch,
and the wine.
HOOPER
(as Brody pours)
We ought to let it breathe...
Whatever.
BRODY
Let's all have a drink.
He extends the bottle to Hooper, who politely accepts a token
sip. He takes some for himself, and offers some to Ellen.
BRODY
You too, sweetheart...
ELLEN
Thank you.
HOOPER
(toasting)
Here's to your husband, the only
other rational man on the island.
Day after tomorrow, I'll be gone,
and he'll be the only one.
ELLEN
You're leaving?
HOOPER
Going out on the 'Aurora.'
ELLEN
Is that a boat?
HOOPER
Is it! The best-funded research
expedition to ever study the shark...
around the world in 18 months.
ELLEN
Like those Cousteau specials on
television? I think it's for the
kids, but I love them.
HOOPER
Better than Cousteau, or Compagno
with computers, telemetry, Defense
Department funding...
ELLEN
I saw a show with sea otters, and a
big turtle... Mikey loved it. Made
me promise to get him one. Will you
live on the boat?
HOOPER
Yep.
ELLEN
Martin hates boats. Hates the water.
On the ferry to the mainland, he
sits in the car the whole way over.
He's got this childhood thing, there's
a clinical word for it.
BRODY
Drowning. Lemme ask you something.
Is it true most attacks take place
in three feet of water, around 10
feet from the beach?
HOOPER
Yeah. Like the kid on your beach.
I wish I could've examined that shark
they caught...
BRODY
Something else. Do most attacks go
unreported?
HOOPER
About half of them. A lot of 'missing
swimmers' are really shark victims.
BRODY
There's a kind of a lone shark,
called, uh...
HOOPER
Rogue?
BRODY
Yeah. Rogue. Picks out an area where
there's food and hangs out there as
long as the food supply lasts?
HOOPER
It's called Territoriality. It's a
theory.
BRODY
And before 1900, when people first
starting swimming for recreation,
before public bathing and resorts,
there were very few shark attacks,
cause sharks didn't know what they
were missing?
HOOPER
You could say that.
Brody digests all this; confirmation of facts he has gleaned
in his newly acquired knowledge of the shark species.
There is a long pause.
BRODY
Why don't we have one more drink,
you and I, and then we go down and
cut open that old shark and see for
sure what's inside him, or not.
ELLEN
Can you do that?
BRODY
I am Chief of Police. I can do
anything I want.
(to Hooper)
You want to come?
HOOPER
I'm flattered you should ask.
He gets up and they both start out. Ellen watches them go.
INT. BOAT SHED - NIGHT
Dark, spooky shed, with shadows of boats and strange
silhouettes of boat parts and scaffolding. At one end, the
large, symmetrical bulk of the shark's carcass lies on a
tarp. A single dark figure is bending over the dead shark.
The large double doors at one end of the shed squeak open,
and the Shadowy Figure moves abruptly away from the shark.
The new entrants move into the shed. It is Hooper and Brody
and they are continuing the conversation begun in the car on
the way over.
As the Shadowy Figure moves silently into a vantage point
against one wall, he passes through the light from a window;
it is Quint, and we only see him long enough to recognize
him as he backs against the wall.
HOOPER
...And it was Dartmouth Winter
weekend, and she was Homecoming Queen,
and I was her date; then she got
into the fact that her family had
more money than my family, and she
was right -- her great-grandfather
was in mining, and my ancestors were
Yankee shipbuilders. So we broke up
and I went home with some beatnik
from Sarah Lawrence.
BRODY
What stinks so bad?
HOOPER
Our friend, the shark.
They bend over the shape like 18th century graverobbers.
HOOPER
We always had a summer place on the
water -- Newport, the Vineyard, so I
figured I'd major in something I
knew about. Oceanography, marine
biology. It was that, or design racing
yachts like my older brother. Hmmm.
He we go. Up the old alimentary canal.
Hold the light.
We hear a slurp and a squish as Hooper produces a big knife
and dips into the shark with a major incision.
HOOPER
We open the abdominal cavity and
check the digestive tract. Simple.
(he attends to his
work)
From his vantage point, Quint watches, unseen by the two
men.
Brody is holding the light, fighting the gag reflex,
fascinated by the bizarre ritual.
BRODY
What's that?
HOOPER
Half a flounder. Hmmm... a burlap
bag... a paint can... aha!
BRODY
What? What?!
HOOPER
Just as I thought. He drifted up
here with the Gulf Stream, from
southern waters.
BRODY
How can you tell?
HOOPER
(showing it)
Florida license plate.
BRODY
He ate a car?
HOOPER
(laughs)
No, but Tiger sharks are the garbage
cans of the ocean. They eat anything.
But this one didn't eat any people.
There's nothing here...
He kicks the remains around below camera.
HOOPER
...Nothing.
BRODY
What do we do?
HOOPER
If you're looking for a shark, you
don't look on land. You go out and
chum for him.
BRODY
Chum?
HOOPER
Only one sure way to find him --
offer him a little something to eat.
Chum -- blood, waste meat, fish,
anything. They can sense it miles
away. If he's out there, we might be
able to get a closer look at him.
(checks his watch)
It's a good time, too. They're night
feeders...
EXT. ABOARD HOOPER'S BOAT - NIGHT (TANK)
We see Brody, looking sick and nervous, holding on anxiously
as the "Fascinatin' Rhythm" moves slowly ahead trolling at
night. His glasses are already flecked with the white salt
of dried seawater. He is wearing a life-preserver.
Hooper is at the wheel, a chart spread in front of him, his
eyes scanning the sea restlessly, checking the dials and
gauges in front of him as well as the electronic depth-finding
and "fish-finder" gear mounted in the cockpit. A green glow
shines from the instruments on his face. Two closed-circuit
TV cameras mounted below the hull flash their pictures onto
monitors in the dash.
In the aisle between the seats is a large container filled
with unpleasant-looking bait; Hooper is long-lining for signs
of shark, and chumming.
HOOPER
(indicating distant
flashing beacon)
That's the Cape Light -- we're on
the stretch where he's feeding, if
he's still here.
Brody, bored, tired, and slightly queasy, is trying to
concentrate on anything but the motion of the boat. He stares
at the sophisticated electronics displays.
BRODY
What is all this stuff?
HOOPER
(ticking them off)
Depth-finder, fathometer, sonar,
closed-circuit TV -- fore and aft --
RDF, single side band...
(points to themselves)
And two loose nuts behind the wheel.
BRODY
Can you tell from that if a big man-
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