Movie Rant: 20 years from now, will Jaws still be considered a classic?

Steven Spielberg with "Bruce."

Last month, during the Easter long weekend, my two young cousins told me that they'd recently watched Jaws for the first time.

"Yeah?! And?" I asked. "What did you think?"

The elder cousin said, "It was kind of cheesy and not even scary" while the younger one shrugged and said "the shark looked so stupid and fake."

I'm not gonna lie: I was a little crestfallen. I'd never heard someone say that before about Jaws or "Bruce", the famously malfunctioning shark robot.

"Well, it was fake," was my lame response. "You have to remember the time in which it was made."

I asked them what their friends thought of it and they responded with, "they also thought it was boring and fake."

Now, maybe it was a bit naive on my part to assume that they would gush and swoon over what many consider to be one of director Steven Spielberg's greatest film achievements. They are only 15 and 10 years old, after all. But, still. These girls are pretty patient with "older" films (i.e. movies that were made before the rise of Kristen Stewart or Channing Tatum) -- they even expressed their recent love for Titanic even though it's, and I quote, "pretty old." So, the fact that they were so quick to dismiss Jaws surprised me a little. Even when I was a kid in the '90's, it was still considered a really cool movie.

I mean, the 1975 underwater horror classic is the reason we have blockbuster movies today. Without Jaws there would never would have been an Indiana Jones, an Avengers, a Lord of the Rings or even a Star Wars (although George Lucas may take issue with that). For that reason alone, it deserves its place in film history books. What makes it so great is the fact that we so rarely get a glimpse of the shark -- it goes back to the whole notion of how what we don't see is often scarier that what is shown to us.

In this increasingly digital age, though, what does this say about the future of certain film classics if the next generation of film fans brush off older flicks because of what they consider to be clunky technology? We assume that once a film is a classic and revered in film circles around the world, it will always be so. And, for many, that will remain the case. But what about the old-school thrillers or movies that rely heavily on computer technology? I just feel that, more and more, an emphasis on technology and special effects is at the top of moviemakers' lists -- so where does that leave Jaws?

Roy Scheider battles the Great White.

There are certain classics that I don't worry about -- their fates are sealed and they are destined to age gracefully. I'm thinking of The Godfather, a towering cinematic achievement that doesn't have to worry about technology and gadgets that will (unintentionally) prematurely age and outdate it. I would even argue that Star Wars is relatively safe what with Lucas' incessant tinkering, nit-picking and re-releases. Ditto anything directed by James Cameron, the George Lucas of a new generation.

I know comments like the ones my cousins made are inevitable and probably not all that uncommon (I'm just in denial, clearly). I'm also probably being crazy and reading too much into it -- but, once I started thinking about it, the more I realized that Jaws' of the film world may struggle to survive and retain their relevance and cultural significance down the road.

Of course there will always be film buffs to defend it and discuss it, but I'm talking about the average moviegoer. Will it be remembered ...or ignored?

But I guess this is how people felt when black and white receded into the background and colour became the "next big thing." While today's generation of kids likely wouldn't be caught dead watching a black and white film, there are still plenty out there who appreciate them.

But, in the age of torture-porn like the Saw franchise and Rob Zombie horror adaptations, Jaws apparently just doesn't cut it anymore. There has to be blood splattered to engage an audience or there has to be massive explosions to provide thrills. Somehow, I feel like it will be different this time around -- it won't be quite like the disappearance of black and white films.

As for me, I still think "Bruce" looks pretty damn realistic.

Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking

A week ago today I saw Carrie Fisher's one-woman show, Wishful Drinking, at the Royal Alexandra Theatre in Toronto. Based on her 2008 memoir, the show has been a smash hit and even had its own HBO special.

So often associated with her iconic role as Princess Leia in George's Lucas' Star Wars franchise, few fans likely take the time to distinguish the differences between Leia and Carrie Fisher herself. After the show last Thursday, she ceased to be Princess Leia for me. Now she's simply, Carrie Fisher -- comedienne, author, businesswoman and a star of the stage.

We all know Fisher is funny. She has a knack for nailing her lines in one episode stints on hit TV shows like Sex and the City and 30 Rock. But there's no real way of preparing yourself for her refreshing, hilarious, brutally honest and self-deprecating account of her own life story.

And what a bizarre, and often tragic, life she's led! As Fisher herself said at one point, "If I didn't make it (my life) funny, it would just be true. And I couldn't have that."

Fisher structures her show as a series of vignettes -- starting with the sudden death of her close friend, Gregory R. Stevens, in 2005. She woke up to find his corpse lying in the bed next to her. Watching her relate the story full of emotion and humour is fascinating to witness. (You can check out her blog entry on the subject at her official website).

Hollywood Inbreeding 101.

She goes from that heavy opener to her college course-like tutorial titled "Hollywood Inbreeding 101" in which she uses a pointer stick and a chalkboard to methodically walk the audience through the many relationships of her famous parents, singer Eddie Fisher and actress Debbie Reynolds.  

She discusses everything from her broken home to her father's countless marriages and affairs -- most famously with Elizabeth Taylor, her mother's best friend at the time. When Taylor's husband, Mike Todd, died in a plane crash, her father Eddie immediately ran to support Taylor. "Daddy rushed to her side, than he worked his way around to her front and finally wound up comforting her with his penis." 

But what is clear from Fisher's show is that, despite her often strained relations with members of her family, she's a woman who loves them dearly. Whether she's recounting the time her aging father accidentally ate his hearing aids or about how her mother insists on stating her own name every time she calls on the phone ("Hello, dear. It's your mother ...Debbie."), Fisher tells her life stories in such a hilariously candid and touching manner. When gushing about her 19-year-old daughter, Billie, Fisher memorably exclaims that "she's the best thing to ever come out of my body." 

Unlike many celebrity memoirs Fisher is not asking her audience for sympathy. She openly blames herself for her own mistakes, saying it would be lazy to blame Hollywood and her broken home for her woes -- and, besides, her brother turned out to lead a perfectly normal and happy life; a rare exception for someone descended from Hollywood royalty.

She will quite openly talk about her bi-polar diagnosis and ECT treatments although she's a little more restrained in her delivery -- as Toronto Star theatre critic Richard Ouzounian wrote: "despite the jokes, quips, the gal-pal merriment, there is something seriously life-threatening underneath."

However, her energy is contagious and, if nothing else, drives home her overriding theme that life is what you make it. If only we were all brave enough to laugh at our faults and failures.