Jaws

Infinitely watchable...

It is a thriller, according to the classic distinction, of surprise rather than suspense. You feel like a rat, being given shock treatment, who has not yet figured out what to do to call off the buzzers.

Most movies that come within a mile of this one's technical expertise hardly bother with such matters as logical human motivations, strong and unhammy acting and believable characters. Jaws, on the contrary, is rich in all of these.

In what may be the best example of the "disaster" movie trend thus far, the setting is not a towering inferno nor a crippled airliner but a quiet resort town terrorized by an ancient, primitive and universal fear.

Unquestionably Jaws is going to be the summer's blockbuster. It's a terrifying experience and much of its horror lingers in your head long after you've seen it.

Jaws will make you go home and burn your bathing suits and stay away from the tub. But don't stay away from the film. It's a real blockbuster, alive with drama and excitement.

The movie is just about everything viewers could hope it would be: Intelligently written, ably acted, beautifully filmed, excitingly edited and, above all, the scariest big-budget extravaganza since The Exorcist.

It is this political thread that, in my opinion, turns Jaws from a b-movie monster flick into a masterpiece, as it hides vitamins and nutrients in among the fast food pleasure of shark attacks.

It’s a scrappy film that moves with complete and utter confidence, creating as much tension with all you don’t see as it does with what you do.

Spielberg touches that central mystery that has always drawn men to the last earthly frontier: the image of an unfathomable, impenetrable deep full of terror beyond our reckoning.