Monday, May 16, 2016

Red Herring



The composition of a brief shot from on board one of the boats has a Cubist-like abstraction: whether by accident or design, it is as if the image has been deconstructed into a series of triangles. On the right of the frame is the blurred profile of a shark spotter, his white sun visor forming a distinctive three-sided shape. The bow of the boat is cropped by the lower right hand side of the frame so that it appears as a shadowy triangle, its hypotenuse running parallel to the slightly curving rail of the craft. A triangular wedge of water is framed between the boat rail and the profile of the shark spotter. As the boat drifts to the right we can see a cluster of beach cabins, their pointed roofs flattened into triangles by the distance. Amidst this arrangement of three-sided forms we briefly glimpse another, a black triangle moving through the water.



Other than the absence of music (which has signalled the approach of the shark up to this point), there is nothing to discourage the viewer from interpreting what they see on the surface as an emblem of the predator below. The fin glides past two young women, who are playfully splashing each other and oblivious to its presence. The camera is raised slightly above the water line to provide a clear view of the fin, which moves smoothly through the water. There is a cut to a woman staring directly into the camera lens, her eyes widening in terror. She screams, turns and makes a panicked scramble towards shore. The same shot with the same reaction is repeated with a male bather. Both shots break the fourth wall by having characters look directly into the camera, essentially directing their gaze at the viewer. 


In his Bloomsbury pocket movie guide to the film Nigel Andrews criticised these ‘straight-to-camera grimaces’ as flaws that in his view make the Fourth of July scene a failure. In her BFI analysis Antonia Quirke reveals that the children on the raft in the background of both shots are the same. However, rather than seeing these examples of mismatched continuity as blemishes, she argues that the assembly of shots was a deliberate choice by the director, and that it sets up the subsequent scene of mass panic as a parody of the disaster movie trope. Essentially, Andrews is arguing that the scene fails to convince because – like the shark fin – the reactions are fake (‘from a 1950s sci-fi cheapie’) and therefore incapable of involving the viewer in the drama. Quirke, on the other hand, gives the director the benefit of the doubt, and takes the view that Spielberg is hoaxing the crowd, just like the two kids with the cardboard fin. The whole scene is not about a great white, but a red herring.