This Is Still My Favorite Movie

Fifty years later, my memories of Steven Spielberg's 'Jaws' are as etched as Quint singing, "Farewell and Adieu to You Fair Spanish Ladies."

View in Browser  Friday, June 20, 2025 I hope you have a six-pack of Narragansett in your fridge come happy hour today, because we need to cheers to a certain Steven Spielberg classic: Jaws, which turns fifty today. Of course, much has been written about (arguably) the first true summer blockbuster, from the wonkiness of Bruce the mechanical shark, to Robert Shaw's penchant for boozing on set. But we couldn't help but commission one more tribute to Jaws, from longtime movie critic Chris Nashawaty.   Nashawaty saw Jaws on his sixth birthday—and it's still his favorite movie. "I can picture the teenage usher shooting my parents an insinuating, I-don't-know-if-this-is-the-best-idea look as he ripped our tickets," he writes. "I didn't know it at the time, but my life was about to change forever." Read Nashawaty's send-up to Jaws below. – Brady Langmann, senior entertainment editor   Plus: Save big on smartwatches and more at REI's June sale 28 Years Later forgets what make a great zombie movie 10 best flip-flops that offer great arch support Jaws Is Still (And Will Always Be) My Favorite Movie Fifty years later, my memories of Steven Spielberg's Jaws are as etched as Quint singing, "Farewell and Adieu to You Fair Spanish Ladies." I remember the thrill of anticipation mixed with mild nausea as the lights started to dim in the theater. From that moment on, things get a little spotty. I know my heart was racing like a fucking greyhound as a young skinny-dipper stripped off her clothes and sprinted into the ocean for a moonlit swim. I know my stomach sank like cement block as John Williams's iconic two-note da-duh…da-duh score kicked in. And I know that I splayed my fingers over my eyes as that skinny-dipper got bucked and thrashed around like a chewy rag doll. Not that that did anything to block out the screams, mind you. My God, those screams. I'm proud to say that I stuck it out until the end of the movie, but I'd be lying if I also said I didn't spend most of it with my eyes squeezed shut. But it doesn't matter because watching that movie was a rite of passage. A rite of passage that would mark the beginning of a fifty-year love affair that's never lost an ounce of its primal, white-knuckle power. READ THE STORY How Andor created an entirely new language from scratch. Ghorman is one of the most intricate languages in all of Star Wars. Eric Francisco interviewed Lucasfilm's dialect coach about the making of a new "conlang." >> How the carnivore diet saved my marriage—and changed my life. His wife's mental-health struggles and his own malaise threatened everything. Zackary Peck reveals how a meat-only diet restored joy in their lives together. >> I Finally Found a Plush But Put-Together Sectional When my husband and I moved this spring, I decided it was time for something new. I still loved the idea of a fluffy cream-colored sectional, but I wanted something more upright and with a higher seat. And, with two kids, a performance fabric would go a long way. The truth is I got exactly what I was looking for: a plush sectional that is easy to flop on at the end of the night or sit upright on as I tap, tap, tap away at my keyboard, like I am right now. By Madison Vain I Witnessed Mountaineering's Deadliest Day. I've Lived with the Memories Ever Since. It was late in the afternoon, and we'd reached a spot where the steep terrain we were climbing gave way to a gently sloping plateau. Camp 2 had just come into view. It looked crowded, dotted with about twenty tents. A few climbers could be seen milling about. Given our slow pace, the traverse there would have likely taken more than the typical half hour that it would under better conditions. So Mark Miller, a renowned English climber and the leader of our six-person expedition, decided to stop for the day. With our shovels, we cut three flat platforms—each large enough for one of our two-person Gore-Tex tents—and set up our own camp, away from the relative bustle of Camp 2.   In the afternoon, Mark and our expedition doctor, Mike Cross, headed to Camp 2, to kill time and to take a closer look at the route up to Camp 3. They chatted with climbers of various nationalities and stopped to have tea with four young Israelis we'd befriended over the past few days as we made our way together from Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan, to Base Camp and beyond. We'd expected to keep running into them as our two teams worked our way up the mountain. It was the last time any of us saw them alive. By Miguel Helft Follow Us Unsubscribe | Privacy Notice | CA Notice at Collection Esquire is a publication of Hearst Magazines. ©2025 Hearst Magazine Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved. This email was sent by Hearst Magazines, 300 West 57th Street, New York, NY 10019-3779