Archive for the 'Jaws' Category



The Legacy of Jaws Told in Movie Posters

Jaws Poster

Grizzly Poster

Rattlers Poster

Tentacles Poster

Piranha Poster

Piranha Poster-2

Alien Poster

Up from the Depths Poster

Bllod Beach Poster

The Evil Dead Poster

Nightmare Poster

CHUD Poster

The Gate Poster

The Nest Poster

Deep Star Six Poster

Leviathan Poster

Tremors Poster

Lake Placid Poster

Open Water Poster

Rogue Poster

Roger Kastel‘s Jaws poster, an exquisite representation of the greatest horror movie ever made, has been imitated as much as, if not more than, Spielberg’s legendary film. It’s impossible to imagine the one without the other. Combine them, and Jaws becomes much more than a giant, man-eating great white shark.

Jaws is the primordial terror of predators lurking beneath the water, circling in the jungle brush, descending unseen from the sky. Jaws is unchecked, insatiable animal aggression: nature stripped of evolutionary checks and balances. Jaws is beyond nature, the supernatural, the devil, the possessed (“he’s got lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll’s eyes“). Jaws is the male sex drive, a giant dick with teeth. Jaws is Freud’s Id, the iceberg representing the sublimated Unconscious. Jaws is humanity stripped of the manufactured veneer of civilization.

The message of Jaws is that we’re all stuck in the same shabby boat, soon to be dead in the water, trying to fend off the monster that’s trying to break in and tear us to pieces.

The catch is: we’re also the goddamn monster.

Christmas Morning, Circa 1975: Operation and The Game of Jaws

Christmas Morning Sweet Ass Chair

Operation needs no introduction, obviously, but how about that plastic shark poking out from the right side of the photo? That’s The Game of Jaws. As John Kenneth Muir reflects, many of us were too young to see Jaws when it first came out, so the only way we could participate in the phenomenon/hysteria was through merchandise like this.

The object of the game is similar to Operation. The box (image via Muir) about sums it up.

The Game of Jaws

And how sweet is that red velvet and leather chair/throne upon which our presumptive dad is scratching his crotch? If someone could wrap that bad boy up and drag it under (or near) my tree, I’d be much obliged.

This is the first of a series of Christmas morning shots. Stick around.


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