Of all the movies from the past half century, there’s one that has arguably had the most lasting cultural impact—and with nothing to do with cinema.
Before Jaws, not a lot of people who went to the beaches around this country were in any regular fear of being chased and eaten by sharks. After Jaws, it’s a foremost thought to many before dipping toe one into the water. Often accompanied by a companion ominously recreating a certain musical theme.
Other than the titular elasmobranch character (who actually had an on-set name—Bruce—for you trivia buffs), the most memorable character in the movie is likely Capt. Quint (Robert Shaw). The crusty, ill-mannered, rough-hewn fisherman who sets out to capture the killer shark alongside policeman Chief Brody (Roy Scheider) and oceanographer Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss).
And usually named as the movie’s non-attack highlight is Quint’s drunken, harrowing recounting of the real-life tragedy of the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Sunk by a Japanese submarine in 1945, only 316 of the 1,196 aboard survived. Many meeting their ends between the sharp teeth of sharks feasting on the U.S. Navy crewmembers whose screams could be heard by all. In the movie, Quint was one of the survivors.
That speech was largely rewritten from the original by Shaw, who was not satisfied with any of the many drafts. Oh, and he was really a bit tipsy as the cameras rolled. It was the defining role for the man who’s the subject of Robert Shaw: An Actor’s Life on the Set of Jaws and Beyond (304 pp., $29, Kensington Books). It’s written by Christopher Shaw Myers, who also is the actor’s nephew, and had access to both family members and archives.
Shaw’s early life was shaped by his UK-bred family’s moving to Orkney, a Scottish city off the North Sea. His father was the local (and perhaps only) doctor, but a heavy alcoholic. His mother a free-spirited but steely wife and mother who was missing a finger and enjoyed playing pranks on people with it. The sound of their arguing was loud and frequent.
Shaw saw acting as a way out, attending the Royal Academy and Dramatic Arts and then the Royal Shakespeare Company while rubbing shoulders with theater titans like John Gielgud and Alec Guinness (the latter of which supposedly had an, uh, greater personal interest in the then young, strapping Shaw).
Oddly, many pages of the book are devoted to a parallel biography of Shaw’s sister (and the author’s mother), Joanna, with whom Robert was very close. Too many. When Joanna goes off to South Africa for a teaching assignment, brother Robert is single. After great detail of her life there and return to the UK, Robert is now married with two children. And that’s all that’s detailed.
Myers also includes long passages of “recreated dialogue” of whose accuracy is in great question or is reliant on the decades-old reminiscing of an elderly Joanna, who went on to a career as a teacher and activist. These read more fancifully novelistic and as expository information than biographical.
Those looking for a lot of behind-the-scenes Jaws stories may also be disappointed. There are details of interactions (and on-set tensions) between Shaw and Richard Dreyfuss, but Roy Scheider barely makes a cameo and director Steven Spielberg occasionally drops in only to
quickly disappear. The most pages here detail conversations between Shaw, Joanna, and their mother who had come to visit the set, with more about their own family history.
Shaw’s other most memorable screen roles – in the James Bond movie From Russia with Love, historical drama A Man for All Seasons, and as the villain in the Robert Redford/Paul Newman hit The Sting barely warrant a couple of pages each.
But some of the book’s best sections eschew the movies entirely for Shaw’s experiences as a theater actor early in his career. This is where Robert Shaw and his philosophies of life and acting and classical theater come out clearest. The reader can feel the nervousness of a cast as they await overnight for the morning’s newspaper reviews, drinking and fretting the night away.
Unfortunately, as Myers writes, Shaw’s love of the drink may have even exceeded his father’s. It was surely a contributing factor to his death from a heart attack in 1978 at only 51 years old.
This month, Jaws celebrates its 50th anniversary with new screenings, documentaries, books, and memorabilia. You can even buy toys like the Little People version, with a miniaturized Quint meeting his untimely fate right there on the package.
Not bad for a film that was set to be a flop. Over budget, over shooting time, filmed on unpredictable water with a “star” that often broke down mechanically and all overseen by a neophyte director in well over his head. It’s amazing that Jaws was ever completed, much less going on to become the first summer “blockbuster.” And provide a defining role for Robert Shaw.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2025.
