If Peter Benchley could do it all again, he wouldn’t. Or at least, he’d do it differently. The author of “Jaws” could never have foreseen the massive success of his book and its 1975 blockbuster adaptation, or the robust cottage industry of “sharksploitation” films that followed in its wake. And while Steven Spielberg’s tremendously popular adaptation is not solely responsible for a broad societal fear of sharks and decades of population decline (a popular rumor that ignores years of pre-Jaws industrial overfishing), it does perpetuate the myth of the “rogue shark”—a vindictive monster who develops a taste for human blood and hunts accordingly.
I love shark movies and aquatic horror in general, but every time I review one I feel compelled to reiterate the importance of sharks, and the decimating effect of human activity on their populations. Sharks kill a handful of humans each year, while humans kill around 100 million sharks per year (per the International Fund for Animal Welfare). They aren’t “shark-infested” waters—they’re human-infested, and it’s one part of a much larger extinction event that threatens life as we know it on this planet.
Simply put, the legacy of Jaws (the book and the film), is complicated, and Benchley spent a significant portion of his life advocating for the animals. His wife Wendy continues their efforts towards shark education and conservation.
Sharksploitation tracks the history of shark movies from their blockbuster origins to their modern descendants—both the spendier studio projects and the seemingly innumerable low budget B-movies, many of whom literally start with a grabby absurdist title and work backwards from there (Sharktopus vs. Whalewolf, 3-Headed Shark Attack, Shark Exorcist, etc).
The format here is consistent with Shudder’s other documentary features: talking head interviews interspersed with film clips, with some graphics to help keep our place in the historical timeline. There is certainly nothing groundbreaking about the structure, but it constructs a satisfying blend of horror nostalgia and behind-the-scenes anecdotes.
What brings it home for me—emotionally and politically—is the doc’s final moments, when the collection of interviewees (from both entertainment and conservation spheres) get a chance to gush over their love for sharks, and the importance of keeping their populations alive and thriving. It underscores a brighter side of the “Jaws effect” that is often overlooked: the way the novel and the film created an entire generation of shark lovers, who have been able to see past the dangerous “rogue shark” myth and find a fascinating creature that is not a monster but, sadly, so often a victim of human industry and fearful misunderstanding.
As go our oceans, so goes our planet—and our apex predators play an irreplaceable role in that ecological balance. If Peter Benchley could leave us with anything, I’m sure it would be that.