Saturday, January 21, 2012

Interiors

Nigel Andrews, whose pocket book analysis of Jaws is usually right on the money, refers to the scene in which the beach closures are announced as The Schoolroom Scene, and builds part of his interpretation around the mistaken assumption that Amity's city fathers have requisitioned the space for an impromptu meeting. Andrews's error seems to be based solely on the fact that in the establishing shot of the room the most dominant feature is a blackboard. However, as details from the previous scene in the corridor (the notices on the bulletin board, the official signs above the doors, and the mayor's own reference to the 'council chambers') make clear, this is supposed to be the interior of the town hall. In Peter Benchley's novel, it's a much more opulent space and indeed the printed description may be more like the real thing. The movie's choice of location may in part have been dictated by what was available, but the manner in which the interior was dressed serves to highlight the nature of Amity's small town politics.


As the mayor holds open the door for the others to enter, we get a brief wide shot of the interior. The off-white walls of the room are almost bare except for four framed certificates, two of which are slightly crookedly hung. The doors and the skirting board are painted in a pale green - reminiscent of the colour of the shutters and the fire hydrant seen in the earlier street scene as Brody walks to the hardware store - and the two stacked in/out trays on the desks are a perfect match with the woodwork. Amity is a town that is clearly obsessed with appearances.


In the foreground of the frame there is a curved wooden desk (something less than a semi-circle) on which are placed some pen holders, two small flags and a gavel. This piece of furniture, which will only seat five, has something of the look of a judge's bench about it, and suggests that the power of decision making in Amity rests in the hands of a few select men. At the other end of the room is the blackboard, wiped clean since the last meeting, and behind it on the wall the room's only concession to decoration: an old-fashioned wooden clock, the hands of which appear to be at twenty past four. The middle of the room is occupied by two rows of grey metal folding chairs, and to the right of them there is a traditional-looking schoolteacher's desk and chair. A gunmetal filing cabinet occupies the far corner of the room, and wedged up against the wall on the right is a machine, which looks like some kind of bulky photocopier.

The interior is overlaid with a a gossamer patchwork of shadow created by the venetian blinds pulled to half mast over the windows. The effect is reminiscent of but not quite as dramatic as the spider web that surrounds Cary Grant as he climbs the stairs with a possibly poisoned glass of milk in Hitchcock's Suspicion.