Int. Helicopter - aerial VIew

 

A breathtaking view. The copter spotter looks down with naked

eye and binoculars.

 

COPTER SPOTTER

Nothing from up here, Daisy. Over.

 

CLOSE - HENDRICKS

 

HENDRICKS

(into walkie-talkie)

False alarm. Must be this glare.

 

ANGLE - BEACH - CLOSE ON BRODY

 

He is walking down the beach, threading his way through the

happy hordes. Meadows nods "hello."

 

VOICES

Who's scared to go in! I was in! Up

to your knees, yeah -- So come with

me -- I'll go again.

 

MEADOWS

Beautiful day, Chief!

 

A group of youngsters playing with Michael Brody's dinghy.

 

They are hauling it toward the surf.

 

BRODY

Hey Mikey --!

 

Michael turns as Brody trots toward him.

 

BRODY

You're not going to the ocean with

that, are you son?

 

MICHAEL

I'm all checked out for light surf

and look at it.

 

BRODY

Do me this favor just once. Use the

ponds.

 

MICHAEL

Dad, the ponds are for old ladies.

 

BRODY

Just a favor for your old man.

 

MICHAEL

(confused)

Sure, Dad.

 

TV CREW - NEAR WATER

 

TV cameramen are packing up their gear. For them it's a wrap

 

REPELLENT LINE - COUNTY POLICEMAN

 

Suddenly his Walkie-Talkie fizzes, and the Copter Spotter's

voice overloads the speaker.

 

COPTER SPOTTER

Copter to Daisy! Red Four, Red Four!

 

BOAT #7 - HENDRICKS

 

Guns are up, heads turning everywhere.

 

HENDRICKS

(into walkie-talkie)

Where --?

 

COPTER SPOTTER

Went under your -- There!

 

The Coast Guard sonar operator spots it and pales. A slick

black dorsal fin is slicing a wake toward the swimming area.

 

SONAR OPERATOR

Jesus Christ -- Shark!

 

BEACH - BRODY

 

Rigid and choked, he almost breaks the "send" button trying

to transmit.

 

BRODY

Everybody out! Out of the water,

please -- leave the water, please --

 

A lifeguard in a loft behind him begins blowing on his

whistle.

 

CLOSE - BRODY

 

shouting hysterically.

 

BRODY

No whistles! No whistles!

 

THE BEACH

 

Dozens of bathers halfway out of the water, turn to see.

More whistles, and they start toward shore. We hear panicky

voices ad-libbing; "Shark," "Look Out," etc. The loudhailers

sounding more urgent now, and a contagious dread seizes one

person after another. Entire groups of people begin pulling

toward shore, some of them obviously trying to control a

growing hysteria in others.

 

BOATS #6 AND #7

 

are converging, heading toward the repellent line as if

tracking an underwater shadow. The fin is beyond the repellent

cordons and heading into the crowds.

 

HOOPER'S BOAT

 

Caught on the other end of the line, he is wheeling in a

broad, hot-dogger's circle turn, headed back.

 

THE WATER - BATHERS

 

People begin screaming. Kids are suddenly separated from

their parents. Others seem to forget how to swim. One myopic

little girl has her glasses bumped off and she begins to cry

in blinded panic. Ellen Brody looks around frantic.

 

BOATS #2, #3, #4

 

The riflemen in the boats are trying to get a bead, but too

many civilians create a hazard. The Coast Guardsmen attempt

to sever the repellent cord to gain access to the bathing

area and the heaving fin.

 

THE WATER - BATHERS

 

This is a confirmation of our worst dread -- a full-blown

headlong water panic. Screaming vacationers claw their way

over the bodies of the less able. Some literally attempt to

walk over the bobbing heads and glistening backs of others

pulling for dry land.

 

CLOSEUPS - PANIC

 

Horrified faces. Some are stunned and wandering in slow,

tentative circles, while others are helped out by friends.

 

Five people try to mount a rubber raft.

 

Ugly reminders that each of us is Number One.

 

Brody enters shot, yelling into his walkie-talkie, someone

charges past him to help an old man out of the water.

 

EXT. THE BEACH

 

Dragging the helpless from the surf. Tears well in Brody's

eyes. The screaming is deafening. The TV unit is hopping up

and down in rage and frustration.

 

TV DIRECTOR

Why did we wrap? Get that! Somebody

get that!

 

One thousand survivors pack the beach, standing absolutely

still. A numbing cold sets in, and people shiver against

each other.

 

Muted sobs, whimpering, coughing.

 

The six burly lifeguards huddle together like Cub Scouts.

 

ANGLE - BATHING AREA

 

The monstrous black fin turns a slow circle as two Coast

Guardsmen manage to cut their own repellent line. All boats

converge on the dynamic fin. Men raise their guns to fire.

Others adlib nautical commands in a uniquely calculated

fashion.

 

CLOSE - FIN

 

It slips sideways, revealing for the first time a tiny blue

snorkel. Then appears the faces of two youngsters whom we

will recall from the coven behind the dune. The fin bobs

back, a beaverboard replica attached to a partially submerged

surfboard. One youngster looks up and is greeted by:

 

YOUNGSTER'S POINT OF VIEW

 

Twenty rifles and shotguns pointed directly at him.

Surrounding him on three sides. Some of the policemen start

to lower their guns -- struck dumb.

 

HOOPER IN HIS BOAT

 

He throttles back suddenly, subsiding into his own wake, his

eyes still restlessly searching.

 

CLOSE - YOUNGSTER

 

his only defense, he begins to cry -- and feebly raises his

hands in unconditional surrender.

 

ANGLE - ESTUARY

 

The narrow estuary leading into the half-mile is rough today.

 

Two children digging in the sand and unaware of the beach

panic one hundred yards away look up, and the little girl

points.

 

BLACK DORSAL FIN

 

is cruising through the narrows and toward the busy pond.

 

HOOPER IN HIS BOAT AGAIN

 

He sees it, and jams his throttle forward. He steers with

one hand, fumbling urgently for his walkie-talkie with the

other.

 

AERIAL VIEW

 

The circle of boats around the little pranksters, the crowds

huddled on the beach, Hooper's boat suddenly arrowing towards

the estuary, leaving a huge boiling wake.

 

CLOSE ON VAUGHN

 

He catches Hooper's boat out of the corner of his eye.

Curious, he follows its progress. It's urgency finally

communicates itself to Vaughn, who begins a shambling trot

across the dunes towards a rise overlooking the estuary.

 

OVERLOOKING THE ESTUARY

 

Vaughn gets there just in time to see the disaster. He

watches, helpless, trying to shout, out of breath. Stunned.

 

ANGLE - POND

 

Michael is tacking full-sail in his boat with a friend, Kit.

 

Kit is admiring the shark's tooth necklace around his own

neck while Michael rubs some water on the scratches left by

it.

 

The fin, huge, black and real, crosses behind them. They are

not yet aware. The fin seems to circle and return. It heads

toward Michael's boat when another small dinghy gets in its

way -- a weekend novice just finishing a thermos of coffee

when he is "bumped." The entire boat is overturned. Michael

sees the fin now as it collides with him, the entire bow

lifting out of the water and rolling over on the port side.

 

Michael and Kit are thrown head first.

 

Three heads in the water come up sputtering, the fin between

them crossing back. Michael freezes. The fin comes directly

at him, growing into the sky, passing him so close he could

touch it, but ignoring him as it follows the flailing and

panicked weekend novice. Catches him. Michael watches. That

all too familiar explosion of water -- a choked off scream --

the head and upper torso of the novice passing Michael swiftly

as though being carried off -- a current of blood trailing

behind.

 

THE VICTIM

(passing a horrified

Michael, who half

extends one hand, as

if to help)

It's no good. I'm dead...

(and he is)

 

A renewed cry of shark!

 

CLOSE - BRODY

 

He turns. Oh God! Running through the slogging sand.

 

CLOSE - ELLEN

 

A sudden turn. She runs.

 

CLOSE - HOOPER IN BOAT

 

He's got the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

 

HOOPER

Block the estuary! The estuary!

 

Three boats racing to carry out the orders. The black fin re-

passing the two children, racing to get out. Hooper reaches

the mouth before the others. The fin won't veer off. It smacks

into the little vessel, bumping it aside. The fin is left

racing into open water. Blood leavings. Hooper leaping over

the side, slogging towards Michael.

 

WIDE ON WATER

 

Copter roars in buzzing the shark, but too late.

 

CLOSE - BRODY AND ELLEN

 

They are pulling Michael out of the water as Hooper splashes

up. Michael is conscious but in shock -- his eyes staring at

nothing.

 

BRODY

(feeling his face)

He's in shock. Get blankets!

 

People gather and Brody snatches beach towels out of their

hands. They cover Michael and carry him off the beach, feet

raised above his head.

 

INT. HOSPITAL - DAY

 

Michael is wheeled out in the bed. Brody and Ellen are there.

 

Sean is sleepy in Brody's arms. Vaughn is waiting in the

hall.

 

NURSE

The doctor said it's okay -- mild

shock. He can come home in the

morning.

 

ELLEN

(to Michael)

Hey, big guy -- you want anything

from home?

 

MICHAEL

My cars. And a comic book.

 

BRODY

(sees Vaughn)

Here --

(gives baby to Ellen)

Take him home.

 

ELLEN

Home... New York?

 

BRODY

No. Home here.

 

Ellen exits.

 

BRODY

(crossing to Vaughn)

Got a pen on you?

 

VAUGHN

Why?

 

BRODY

There's only one thing you're good

for anymore -- signing a damn voucher.

Here. It's an authorization to employ

a contractor.

 

VAUGHN

I don't know if I can do that without

a...

 

BRODY

(interrupting)

I'm going to hire Quint to kill the

fish. I want to see that shark dead.

 

VAUGHN

Maybe we can save August...

 

BRODY

Forget it. This summer's had it.

Next summer's had it. You're the

mayor of Shark City. You wanted to

keep the beaches open. What happens

when the town finds out about that?

 

VAUGHN

I was acting in the town's best

interests...

 

BRODY

The best interest in this town would

be to see that fish belly-up in the

water with a hole in his head. You

do the right thing. You authorize

me.

(indicates paper)

Right there. Whatever it costs.

 

VAUGHN

My kids were on that beach...

 

BRODY

Just sign it, Larry.

 

Vaughn signs, and Brody takes the paper and exits.

 

QUINT'S HOUSE - DAY

 

Brody and Hooper are approaching Quint's house. They enter

through the big wooden doors, into another circle of Hell.

 

Smoke and steam from two big oil drums sitting over fires

fills the air. Quint and his mate, Herschel, are grinding

pieces of pilot whale into chum. The whale lies bloody on

the floor, its ruined carcass adding to the stench of other

sharks being boiled in the drums, their tails suspended in

the air.

 

Diesel fumes and decay fill the air, and tools, ropes, broken

bits of iron and engine parts litter the floor. Wall hangings

of rope and floats, and buoys, barrels, tackle and gear all

conspire to frame the killing floor.

 

Brody and Hooper navigate the obstacle course.

 

BRODY

This has got to be one big

violation...

 

HOOPER

(handling some gear)

This is quite a place.

 

QUINT'S VOICE

Keep your hands off my stuff.

 

He emerges from the steam and smoke.

 

QUINT

Did you bring a check?

 

BRODY

What?

 

QUINT

Cash? Or do we do this on a handshake

and a promise?

 

BRODY

I'm authorized by the township of

Amity to hire you as an independent

contractor. We'll meet your price.

$10,000.

 

QUINT

And my regular daily rate -- $200,

whether we catch him or not.

 

BRODY

You got it.

 

QUINT

And incidental damages, if any...

 

BRODY

You got it.

 

QUINT

And you get the Mayor off my back

with this zoning crap. Nobody tells

me how to run my property.

 

BRODY

You got it.

 

QUINT

And, uh, a case of apricot brandy

and you buy the lunch.

 

BRODY

Two cases. And dinner when you land.

 

QUINT

(pours drink)

Try some of this. I made it myself.

 

Brody tastes.

 

QUINT

Here's to swimmin' with bowlegged

women.

 

Herschel interrupts. He's stopped working, and is wiping his

hands on a bloody rag.

 

HERSCHEL

Mr. Quint...

 

Quint wheels to face him.

 

HERSCHEL

I'm not goin'. No sir.

 

QUINT

You want to get paid, you go.

 

HERSCHEL

Forget the money. You can't pay me

enough. I ain't crazy. I worked some

big mean fish with you, but I ain't

goin' on this one.

 

QUINT

This is the last time I hear from

you. I don't want anyone with piss

for blood on my vessel. Put that

blackfish on board, pump the bilges,

and top off the fuel tanks, and finish

up in the morning. Then you're on

the beach.

 

HOOPER

You're going to need an extra hand...

 

Quint turns to see this new voice, and starts walking towards

him.

 

BRODY

This is Matt Hooper...

 

QUINT

I know who he is...

 

BRODY

He's from the Oceanographic Institute.

 

HOOPER

I've been to sea since I was 12.

I've crewed three Trans-pacs --

 

QUINT

Transplants?

 

HOOPER

-- and an America's Cup Trials...

 

QUINT

I'm not talking about day sailing or

pleasure boating. I'm talking about

working for a living. Sharking.

 

HOOPER

And I'm not talking about hooking

some poor dogfish or sand shark. I'm

talking about a Great White.

 

QUINT

Are you now. I know about porkers in

the water --

(throws him some rope)

Here. Tie me a sheepshank.

 

Hooper ties the knot effortlessly.

 

HOOPER

I don't need to pass basic seamanship.

 

QUINT

Let me see your hands...

 

He takes Hooper's hands in his own big bloody fists, and

feels them as he talks.

 

QUINT

Ha. City hands. You been counting

money. If you had a $5000 net and

$2000 worth of fish in it, and along

comes Mr. White, and makes it look

like a kiddy scissors class has gone

to work on it and made paper dolls.

If you'd ever worked for a living,

you'd know what that means.

 

HOOPER

Look, I don't need to hear any of

this working class hero crap. Some

party boat skipper who's killed a

few sharks...

 

BRODY

(interrupting)

Hey. Knock it off. I don't want to

have to listen to this while we're

out there...

 

QUINT

What do you mean 'We...?'

 

BRODY

It's my charter. My party.

 

QUINT

All right, Commissioner. But when

we're on my ship, I am Master, Mate

and Pilot. And I want him...

(indicates Hooper)

...along for ballast.

 

BRODY

You got it.

 

EXT. QUINT'S DOCK - MORNING

 

The Mate is loading. He hands Quint the items on his check

list as Quint takes them aboard.

 

QUINT

5 lengths of 1/2-inch, 20 number

14's, straight gaff, flying gaffs,

tail rope, eye splice, M-1, 20 clips,

pliers, irons...

 

As he talks, we see Hooper coming down to the dock. Wheeling

a wagon behind him are two long-haired Research Assistants

from the Institute. On the wagon, among other things, is a

big shark cage. At dockside, Hooper checks his list, as he

signs for his issue.

 

HOOPER

Powerhead, CO2 darts, hypo, regulator,

tanks, depth gauge, camera, extra

magazines, cage...