Tag Archives: Universal Studios

JAWS 50: Celebrating Fifty Years of Cinematic Legacy

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“[We’re] gonna need a bigger boat” as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of the massive, radical game-changing effects of Steven Spielberg’s career-defining JAWS.

Jaws was the first official blockbuster. Looking back at the original crowds of 1975, you’d think the movie was a one-night-only big event. Hence the term blockbuster. The adjective blockbuster, commonly attributed to big summer movies, literally derives from the fact that queues for the box office wrapped around city blocks. It busted the block, so to speak. And the rest is history! Coupled with the summer release date and ticket sales, the allure of Jaws generated levels of enthusiasm and interest never seen before. The film took in so much money at its opening, that it nearly made up the entire production budget by the end of the first week. Furthermore, distribution and marketing companies began to use Jaws as a model for future marketing efforts in order to attempt to generate another blockbuster effect.

Fun fact, two years earlier The Exorcist commanded massive crowds of people that wrapped around blocks to see the provocative motion picture. But, the initial release of the film was rather small and it’s marketing was much more reserved. In contrast, Jaws‘ marketing was unlike anything that had been seen before and it’s initial release was a extreme wide release, and upon that initial release crowds were already wrapping around the block. The Exorcist may have achieved the massive crowds first, but it was earned over time; whereas with Jaws, it was instantly a blockbuster from day one.

Never before had there been such a popular and critically successful film in cinemas. Much in the same way Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho is often credited, and rightly so, for being the first modern horror film and forerunner to the classic slasher; likewise, Spielberg’s adaptation of Peter Benchley’s novel Jaws is credited as the first modern creature feature horror film and forerunner to the blockbuster (or event movie). I am not negating King Kong, Creature from the Black Lagoon, or other predecessors; it’s important to take note of the word modern. Aside from excellent, visionary direction, both Psycho and Jaws have three important elements in common (1) powerhouse cast (2) strategic suspense and (3) a brilliant, oft-parodied, burned in your mind musical score.

Instead of building a thriller on shock value, disturbing imagery, or jump scares, author Peter Benchley’s screenplay for Jaws focussed on crafting a cinematic atmosphere that had an intimate, claustrophobic feel built upon well-crafted drama through character development and conflict, at the center of which is a little heart. Different from contemporary creature features, Jaws picks off swimmers in the single digits and those attacks all happen at a single beach on a small island off the coast of Massachusetts. And instead of an entire agency hunting down the man-killer shark, three unlikely men are forcibly thrown together in order to track down and eliminate the terror from the waters off Amity Island.

Simply stated, Jaws is thematically rich from beginning to end, and there is no way to capture all the nuances of the film in this section; however, I’d be remiss not to spend some time on the emotive power of the landmark horror film. At the core of Jaws’ expressive meaning, it explores themes of greed, scientific hubris, and the consequences of unchecked ambition. Suffice it to say, the most prominent theme in the film is the folly of man. The folly of man is expressed through the character-driven story more than it is the search and destroy of the shark.

Chief Brody’s fear of the water and his struggle to protect his community from the shark reflect universal anxieties about the unknown and the fragility of human safety. In a manner of speaking, Chief Brody journey is one of redemption for the death of the little Kitner boy. Matt Hooper represents scientific hubris and dangers of unchecked bravado. And Quint’s obsessive quest to hunt and kill the shark serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of pride and arrogance, highlighting the destructive power of man’s hubris in the face of nature. Interestingly, all three men are seen as outsiders. Chief Brody and his family are new to town, Hooper is a white collar guy in a blue collar town, and Quint is socially an outsider, despite being a fixture in the community. During the 1970s, there were growing fears of outsiders coming into communities to upset the natural order of things.

Keeping the principle cast and environment small, Spielberg was able to focus attention on character development and interpersonal relationships in order for the drama to perform strongly and naturalistically. Big things do come in small packages. Coupled with the strong performances from the entire leading cast, this brilliant combination of cinematic elements works together to give us some of the most memorable lines, scenes, and cinematography in movie history. Furthermore, real people swept up into an impossible situation and foolish decisions enable the audience to identify with the characters and the setting in ways that make the terror feel all the more real and close to home–or the beach.

While Bruce is often thought to be the villain of Jaws–and no mistaking it, he is definitely an antagonist–I argue that the true opposition to the goal in the plot is Amity’s mayor. If we accept the goal is to apprehend or kill the man-eating shark, then Mayor Vaughn serves as opposing that action. Perhaps you’ve never thought of the true villain of Jaws being Mayor Larry Vaughn. A close analysis of the plot reveals that Jaws (Bruce) functions more as a catalyst for the principle conflict between Chief Brody and Mayor Vaughn. Other than the death at the beginning of the film, the Mayor is indirectly responsible for the remaining deaths. After all, it’s due to his utter complacency, negligence, and classic greed that led to the other deaths.

For most of the film, we spend far more time with Chief Brody’s continued conflict dealing with the social pressures, desires, and ill-fated decisions of his boss than we do with shark attacks. Mayor Vaughn fails to acknowledge the sheer gravity of the dangerous situation, and close Amity’s beaches in order to keep his citizens safe. Interestingly, even Jaws channels some of the anxiety of the 1970s. After all, the primary reason why Mayor Vaughn refused to close the beaches was because it would economically depress his town that literally depends on the summer dollars. In effect, he fed them to the shark. Seems like a villainous action to me. Bruce was just being a shark, Vaughn was the true villain.

Jaws forever changed cinemas and became the inspiration for countless other filmmakers. Another prominent filmmaker even cited it as part of his inspiration for a film that would be like a combination of Jaws and a haunted house, set in space where “no one can hear you scream.” In addition to serving as inspiration, many films have tried imitating it, putting their own spin on the premise. Even comedic satires featuring similar plot points have released over the years. The film’s box office success solidified Spielberg as a visionary director. Interestingly, the movie sparked a renewed interest in marine biology and conservation. Its timeless appeal continues to captivate audiences with thrilling storytelling, unforgettable characters, and groundbreaking practical effects. Jaws will forever hold a special place in the annals of film history and continue to be a holiday horror film that hundreds of thousands around the U.S. watch every 4th of July. 

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

DROP (2025) movie mini-review

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“Drop” in on a lot of fun at the cinema. Universal and Blumhouse’s Drop is a highly entertaining Lifetime-esque thriller that requires a prescription-strength dosage of suspension of disbelief. With a charming cast and adrenaline pumping suspense and tension, Christopher Landon’s latest movie delivers an engaging time at the cinema.

Violet is a widowed mother who goes to an upscale restaurant to meet Henry, her charming and handsome date. However, her pleasant evening soon turns into a living nightmare when she receives phone messages from a mysterious, hooded figure who threatens to kill her young son and sister unless she kills Henry.

If you enjoy the Lifetime movies of the 2000s, then this is right up your alley. The stakes are high and you’ll empathize with our central character of Violet, and root for her and her family’s survival. Because the lead cast quickly makes a meaningful connection with the audience, the plot holes (and there are many) almost feel irrelevant because the movie’s strength isn’t so much in the realism of the plot as much as it is in the naturalism of the plot. The movie is disconnected sufficiently enough from reality that it functions as an escapist picture, therefore the fact that there is little to no way this plot could ever happen due to the ridiculous nature. Between the high camp, high stakes, and charming cast, Drop blends the aesthetics of a high-budget thriller with the emotional pitch of a Lifetime movie—often to hilarious and unexpectedly entertaining results.

From writer-director Christopher Landon, Drop is directed with the kind of slick, over-serious tone that almost dares you not to laugh, Drop thrives in that uncanny cinematic space where implausibility meets irresistible entertainment (a.k.a. the Lifetime movie formula). The film is not so much interested in realism as it is in emotional immediacy—and it serves it with gusto. What makes Drop work is the sheet Oscar-level commitment. In an era wherein movies that typically fall in the vein of this one, wink at the audience to cue them in on the joke, this movie never acknowledges the absurdity of the premise. Which proves to be the winning hand, because the audience’s experience is surprisingly immersive. The stakes may be inflated, but the emotions feel real in the moment, and that’s what keeps viewers engaged. it to be consumed by its tornado of drama.

Even though the movie never becomes self-aware of its absurdity, that isn’t to say that the campy levels of plot devices and drama don’t play a role–on the contrary–the movie’s absurdity is its strength. Whether you’re watching in genuine suspense or howling with friends at the sheer audacity of it all, Drop delivers. And it’s way more fun than it has any right to be. Solid as the plot is from a storytelling mechanics perspective, it definitely defies conventional logic. But the movie completely surpasses any expectations I had going into the movie. Drop is a deliciously unhinged suspense thriller that feels like a Lifetime movie on a Red Bull bender—highly recommended for fans of unintentional camp and cathartic chaos.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

THE WOMAN IN THE YARD horror movie review

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Immersive setting and thoughtful premise meets with poor plotting. The Woman in the Yard is a haunting reflection of trauma, grief, and loss that accomplishes little beyond delivering unsettling imagery. The rich southern gothic atmosphere draws viewers into the story, but the experience ultimately falls flat due to poor writing. That said, I appreciate what the film tries to do with its intriguing premise, but the insufficient plotting and meandering diegetic direction hamper what could’ve been a rather fantastic psychological horror film.

Ramona (Danielle Deadwyler) becomes crippled by grief after her husband dies in a car accident, leaving her to care for her two children alone in her rural farmhouse. Her sadness soon turns to fear when a spectral woman in black (Okwui Okpokwasili) appears on her front lawn, warning her “today’s the day.” As the mysterious figure creeps closer and closer to the house, Ramona realizes she must protect her children from the evil woman who simply won’t leave them alone.

In the vein of The Others, this film takes place in an isolated house in the countryside featuring a mother and her kids. Except instead of leaning into a New England gothic aesthetic, The Woman in the Yard exudes a rich, dimensional Southern gothic atmosphere. From the house to the yard to the ominous, mysterious woman in black, this film draws us into the story. Unfortunately, the story into which we are drawn, leaves much to be desired.

If I were to simply focus on the atmosphere of and settings within the film, The Woman in the Yard would rank highly for me, but it’s disappointing that such a rich world is wasted on such a vague plot and meandering narrative. Even the performative dimension is compelling. All four performances of the main (and pretty much only) cast members were solid. I only wish they had been given more to do in order to drive home the themes of the film.

I opened with comments concerning the various themes in this film concerning grief, loss, and trauma, and I enjoyed how these internal feelings were externalized for the audience. The use of mirrors, shadows, and (digital) double exposure gave this film a tangible, experiential depth. But, regrettably, the imagery and performative dimension is pretty much all that we get in this film, for the plotting is weak and lacks discernible direction.

Without getting into spoilers, our central character of Ramona must battle the various affects of the trauma incurred from the car accident that left her injured and her husband dead, which have manifested themselves in the woman in black and related paranormal and supernatural occurrences in the isolated Georgia farmhouse. She is challenged to resolve that which she is battling in order to provide for her children after the tragic passing of her devoted husband and father to their kids. Just like those that experience a life-changing traumatic event (often in the aftermath of a tragic accident) begin to reflect upon their life and examining their impact on and relationships with others, Ramona is reflecting upon her life. The psychological process of reflecting on life is dramatized in and expressed through the use of mirrors, mirrored imagery, and (what in analog terms would be) double exposure. This part of the film works incredibly well! But the plotting isn’t there to sufficiently support it for storytelling cinematic storytelling purposes.

The woman in black is a paranormal manifestation of something in the film that I cannot reveal as to avoid spoilers, but I loved this character! She is creepy, intriguing, mysterious, ominous, and more of what makes a great monster in a horror movie. Between the Southern gothic atmosphere and the woman in black, I very much expect to see this movie adapted into a Halloween Horror Nights house. The character of the woman in black is rather terrifying, yet you won’t encounter much in the way of traditional scares. Her character (and her chair) are so thoughtfully crafted that her mere presence is enough to send adrenaline through your body. In terms of “rules” for a monster, they are established early on, and everything to follow functions within those rules. I would not be surprised if the woman in black is borne out of real folklore, because so much of what happens feels connected to campfire ghost stories and superstitions.

While The Woman in the Yard may lack in the plotting department, it delivers many elements that can be sufficiently enjoyed. It may not be one that I will revisit any time soon, but I still enjoyed the movie well enough.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

THE WILD ROBOT movie review

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Wildly heartfelt and uplifting! Universal and DreamWorks Animation’s The Wild Robot is among the best films of the year, period. Director Chris Sanders delivers a truly compelling and smartly written fish-out-of-water story about found family and being more than the sum of our parts–or programming. Easily on track to make my Top 10 Films of the Year list. Based on the book by the same name, DreamWorks Animation hits a homerun with this outstanding animated motion picture that will challenge you, thrill you, and tug at your heartstrings.

Shipwrecked on a deserted island, a robot named Roz must learn to adapt to its new surroundings. Building relationships with the native animals, Roz soon develops a parental bond with an orphaned gosling.

I’ll admit it up front, I cried. It really is such a beautiful animated motion picture that likely rocketed its way into my best films of the year list. Not since The Iron Giant have we had an animated motion picture with such gravitas. While I still feel that 2016’s Kubo and the Two Strings remains the best animated motion picture in the last ten years, I must say that The Wild Robot is solidly my No.2 pick. The strength of this picture is in the compelling story, relatable characters, and efficient plotting (sometimes a little too efficient). My only real negative criticism of the film is the pacing in the first act; while refreshingly lean, some scenes and sequences needed a little more room to develop and breathe. Even though The Wild Robot shares little in common with The Iron Giant‘s plot, it shares Iron Giant‘s heart and soul.

Fish-out-of-water premises have been a staple of cinema for nearly as long as films have been around. So the real challenge for writers and directors is to find original ways of expressing these foundational ideas. And what is precisely what we have in this film. There are actually three fish-out-of-water narratives within the film, and the film is better for them because each of these layers adds personal and interpersonal complexities to character relationships with the world in which they finds themselves and amongst each other. The films provides thoughtful commentary on what it is like to both be in a world that is unfamiliar and have unfamiliar tasks thrust upon oneself.

Furthermore, this film depicts the importance of adapting to one’s environment and overcoming obstacles, even those that are innate. I also appreciate what the film has to say about self-determination and taking personal responsibility for one’s circumstances and one’s mistakes. Fish-out-of-water stories are some of the most relatable, because we have all been placed in an unfamiliar environment, and know how that can feel. It’s a terrifying prospect to be dropped into a world that is alien to us, and the film does not shy away from the challenges, joys, and even the tragedies that can befall us.

Another narrative area of strength in the film is challenging us not to quickly pass judgment on that fish-out-of-water when they find themselves in your world. Or to presume that one’s past behavior is always an indication of how that person (or animal, as it were) will always behave. Yes, past behavior can indicate predisposition to moral and ethical aberrations, but that does not mean that redemption is not to be considered a possibility. I love how the film paints a portrait that we can change, if we have the will and support to do so. It rarely comes naturally, we have to work at it. We have to work at overcoming natural behaviors that may not be constructive and ultimately selfish. We are more than the sum of our parts–or our programming.

To a lesser extent, there is come social commentary on the relationships between the work place and the employee and even cultures that decry the individual in exchange for group think. Without getting into spoilers, the film depicts imagery of how some, if not many, companies treat and feel about their employees. How a company does not view the employee as an individual; rather, as a means to an end, just another cog in the machine that will be disciplined for any individuality or unique expression. But not before the company assimilates the knowledge of that employee, particularly those that do think outside the box. Difference will not be tolerated. That is the feeling of many companies and even governmental systems. The film challenges these ideas by showing cooperation between diverse groups, even groups that are naturally enemies. Furthermore, the film demonstrates how differences can be overcome or even set to the side in order to serve, protect, and survive.

Lastly I’d be remiss not to touch on the global idea of the film, which is the concept of found family. Throughout the entire film there are images of the important role one’s found family fills in life. Found family is that family-like unit that may not be blood-related, but very much fill the same role as a more traditional family in one’s life. It’s a group of friends that have a relationship that goes beyond typical friendship, and includes family-like dynamics. Sometimes these are formed because someone feels rejected or neglected by their real family, and find family with a close group of friends. Other times, and I’d venture say most of the time, a found family can be formed out of the significant distance between you and your family of origin. So when in a new place because of school, work, or even military transfer, it’s important to form a strong bond with friends (or a friend’s family) to fill that important role even when separated from one’s family of origin. We are creatures that have an innate need for connection and companionship.

I cannot recommend The Wild Robot enough! Don’t miss seeing this incredible animated motion picture on the big screen.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

SPEAK NO EVIL horror movie review

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An entertaining and terrifying thrill ride. Blumhouse and Universal’s Speak No Evil, starring James McAvoy, excels in plotting and atmosphere but falters in character building and development. Based on the Danish film by the same name, director James Watkins’ version is a methodical and spellbinding descent from dream to nightmare. The highlight of the film is McAvoy’s completely manic performance that is simultaneously comedic and unsettling. Whilst Watkins attempts to bestow upon the high concept narrative thoughtful social commentary on image, isolation, and identity, the commentary is inconsistent and lacks the gravitas to truly be compelling or provocative.

A dream holiday turns into a living nightmare when an American couple and their daughter spend the weekend at a British family’s idyllic country estate.

That which is most personal is most relatable, and can be the most terrifying. And what can be more personal and relatable than the need for a relaxing vacation in the peaceful countryside? That is precisely where this decent into a nightmare begins. Speak No Evil may take its time (albeit justified) in setting up the conflict, but once that second act kicks into gear, it is a nonstop thrill ride into isolation and violation. Keep the cast small, the film is able to spend sufficient time in developing the plot and keeping with proper pacing for the tight storytelling. From the very beginning, the piping is laid for everything that audiences will encounter in the second and third acts, with every shot, scene, and sequence pointing towards the shocking conclusion.

Violence on screen is minimal; however, when it hits, it HITS. But that hit isn’t always visual; many times it is psychological in nature, which in many ways, is even more terrifying. Throughout this film, the terror on screen is transferred into the minds of the audience. Part of that is because of the degree of relatability in this story. Many of us have been on vacation in a new place or even moved to a new place unfamiliar to us–perhaps in or to another country–and we are often desperate for friendship or companionship of any kind in order to begin to feel more at home. Therefore, the setup of this film is one to which many of us can relate–and that’s what makes it particularly terrifying. The thought that we could unwittingly befriend a monster.

While the social commentary on isolation, identity, and image is inconsistent and weak, I appreciate what Watkins was trying to do; although, there is one aspect of the film that was screaming for a redemption arc that was so obviously squandered (and actually hurt the quality of the film). Speak No Evil depicts many expressions of isolation. Isolation from friends and family, isolation from the urban core, isolation within one’s family. And it’s this isolation that greatly heightens the level of suspense and terror.

Additionally, the film depicts the identities (or facades) that we project to the world when we are hiding something or feel insecure because we wield it like a sort of armor. Moreover, this identity can also harbor inconsistencies that lead to a lack of authenticity and meaningful motivation. Perhaps this identity is merely a facade that is intended to make others feel uncomfortable or to project an image that sets one apart simply out of fear of being found out as little more than keeping up with what’s trending on social media. Furthermore, the attempted commentary on image is depicted in a variety of ways throughout the film.

The weakness in the film is found in the character building and development. Not with all the characters, but enough that it mitigates the potential of the film to deliver a compelling story. Without getting into spoilers, I want to discuss where the film had an opportunity an an effective character redemption arc, but pandered to what’s presently trending in movies instead of providing a constructive character arc that would’ve benefitted the film by adding a since of compelling meaning. Strong characters are not strong because those around them are weak; to craft a strong character through that methodology makes for a weakened (and less compelling) character because ostensibly standards have been lowered.

Strong characters are at their strongest when other characters are strong, complete with dimension as well. There is a character in the movie that lost their job, and have been personally struggling with feelings of anger, inadequacy, and failure–that is completely relatable as it is very much a human response to losing ones income and livelihood. Where the film fails is setting this character up to overcome the feeling of failing their family and at life, but never doing anything with it, and merely reinforce weakness. I imagine this was done to make their counterpart appear stronger. But it amounts to lazy storytelling that reinforces negative imagery.

The character that is the most entertaining is James McAvoy’s Paddy. I cannot think of any other actor working today that could’ve brought this character to life nearly as well as McAvoy. In an otherwise par for the course performative dimension in the film, he brings a kinetic energy that draws audiences into the macabre, twisted tale. From the very beginning, we can tell that there is something a little off about his character, but never enough to know precisely where he stands. When he goes full-on manic mode, we are in for the ride because he makes us laugh and gasp in horror all at the same time.

Everything about this movie would make for a fantastic house at next year’s Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Orlando and Hollywood. The farmhouse at the center of the movie is a labyrinth and hints at a variation of the hillbilly horror aesthetic. I can see how this film’s characters and setting could adapt well to an HHN house, so I would not be surprised if we see this intellectual property featured at next year’s HHN.

Speak No Evil may lack dimension that could’ve made it a more compelling narrative than what we received; however, it’s still an entertaining thrill ride that will have you laughing and screaming. A solid popcorn horror movie that has some degree of rewatchability.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry