Things could have been very different. After Steven Spielberg’s zeitgeist-defining proto-blockbuster and its less-successful sequel (marred by an on-set punch-up and fired director), exec producers David Brown and Richard D. Zanuck hatched a plan to revive the ailing Jaws franchise: make the third installment a spoof. Tapping creatives from National Lampoon – including ’80s icon John Hughes – and eyeing The Howling-helmer Joe Dante for the director, Jaws 3 People 0 (as it was pitched) looked set to lean in hard to the potential comedy of its man-vs-fish conceit.
Universal got cold feet, however, and the project was canned. Brown and Zanuck abandoned ship, and the studio decided to go instead for a more straightforward threequel set at SeaWorld Orlando, shot in 3D. Some stereoscopic films had been successful the year before – not least Friday the 13th Part III – and Universal hoped this could be the way for the Great White to swim back to box office glory.
Alas, it was not to be. Released in 1983, Jaws 3-D was critically panned and would prove a nadir for the series, so much so that when Jaws: The Revenge came out four years later, one press release heralded it as the “third film of the remarkable Jaws trilogy,” essentially erasing its predecessor from existence: a brazen but perhaps understandable burn given that 3-D floated in its own pocket universe, narratively disconnected from the rest of the franchise.
To be sure, the film has its issues. You know you’re in for a wild ride from the opening shot of a severed 3D fish head – its mouth still gasping after being bisected by the titular shark. And despite the writing talents of original Jaws scribe Carl Gottlieb and genre legend Richard Matheson, the script is stuffed with quirky one-liners (“You’re talkin’ about some damn shark’s mother?!”). But could it be that these perceived weaknesses – which caused so many to scoff – are, in fact, the film’s greatest strengths?
For starters, the shift in location away from Amity is a much-needed game-changer. Prefiguring Jurassic Park by a decade, the idea of a theme park under assault from a giant monster is strangely prescient, allowing for a range of compelling scenes from pyramid water-skiers being pursued to the climatic sequence in the Underwater Kingdom where a smorgasbord of civilians is trapped in sub-aquatic tunnels slowly filling with water.
Despite Roy Scheider refusing to return as Police Chief Martin Brody, Dennis Quaid is charismatic as his son Mike. True, the actor would later admit to being high on coke in “every frame” of the film – something which perhaps explains the intensity of his performance – but he remains captivating nevertheless, leaping on jet skis, commandeering a golf cart, and repeatedly plunging in and out of the water. You could chalk this up to drug-fueled hysteria, but given that in the original film, Mike is almost eaten in the infamous pond sequence, and Jaws 3-D sees him literally build the lagoon where the shark attacks happen, it’s interesting to consider whether he is actually motivated by some Freudian death drive to recreate his own sublimated trauma.
Bess Armstrong too is brilliant as Mike’s girlfriend Kay, the pair exuding an easy chemistry reminiscent of Martin and Ellen (Lorraine Gary) in Spielberg’s original. Elsewhere Lea Thompson (two years before Back to the Future would make her famous) is great, and Louis Gossett Jr. is in camp form as SeaWorld’s slippery boss Calvin Bouchard, an ’80s capitalist whose disregard for public safety makes one wonder why the real-world theme park ever allowed themselves to be portrayed so unfavorably. And then there’s the wonderful double act of posh Brit FitzRoyce (Simon MacCorkindale) and his “cor blimey” cockney help, Tate (P.H. Moriarty), who between them represent the full gamut of how Englishmen have typically been represented in American cinema.
But a shark film rises or falls with its kills. First up is the death of Shelby (Harry Grant) as he fixes the lagoon gate, and while this may (initially) be lacking in gore, the underwater soundscape that precedes it recalls Friday the 13th’s classic “ki-ki-ki ma-ma-ma” cue, a wry nod to the idea of Jaws being a slasher. (Interestingly, links to Friday exist elsewhere too, such as when one character fires a crossbow at the screen – recalling Jason’s speargun gag from his own Part III – or the slow-mo reaction shots of the finale, mirroring the death of Mrs. Vorhees).
The most spectacular kill, however, is reserved for FitzRoyce, who – like an upper-class Quint – meets his end by underestimating his adversary. In what is surely a series highlight, the photographer uses himself as live bait to lure the shark into an underwater tunnel, only for his safety line to detach, leaving him to drift helplessly into the monster’s mouth. The leisurely pace of this sequence – the camera lingering on FitzRoyce as he is slowly chewed to death, trapped behind a wall of teeth – is pure nightmare fuel guaranteed to haunt.
Indeed, the shark effects are not always successful, particularly in the final reel, where the beast drifts passively toward an observation tower before exploding in an unconvincing shower of spinning viscera when the pin in one of FitzRoyce’s grenades gets pulled. But even in these ropey moments, the film retains a B-movie charm. If audiences can tune into the idea that realism is not the aim here, it’s possible to read these moments as meta-comments on the artifice of presentation. As with the guests at SeaWorld, we’re here for a cheap and tacky spectacle, and we get it by the (chum) bucketful.
This idea could be extended further to suggest social messaging among the schlock. SeaWorld’s morally questionable real-life conduct has since been well recorded, not least in the acclaimed documentary Blackfish, which charts the experiences of captive orca Tilikum at the park. With this in mind, Jaws 3-D – with its subplot of a baby Great White being captured and subsequently dying from neglect – could be seen as a legitimate “nature revenge” movie, warning how corporate greed harms animals while putting punters at risk. Through this lens, the film’s climax, which sees dolphins Cindy and Sandy leap triumphantly into the air as Alan Parker’s ebullient score rises to a crescendo, is a hopeful air punch that, despite the man-made madness we bring upon ourselves, there is the possibility of a better world where humans can live in harmony with Mother Nature.
Whatever approach we take to Jaws 3-D – from disowned franchise film to silly midnight movie or perhaps something more – enough is going on below the water to warrant (and reward) repeat viewings. The original may be an untouchable masterpiece, but there is an odd, coked-up energy to director Joe Alves’ one and only film, and the way it both embodies and critiques the very worst excesses of the 1980s. So yes, I’m talking about some damn shark’s mother, and I don’t intend to stop any time soon.
And if you’re in the mood for more Sharksploitation, check out our list of 10-finned favorites with bite.
