‘A Stupid Pitchah and The Fate of The Goodest Boy’

By Benn Robbins

JAWS is 50 this year.

It is also the 10th anniversary of the death of my father. I mention this because he hated JAWS. He would call it “a stupid pitchah”

He used to harpoon bluefin tuna as a hobby as part of his life as a commercial fisherman. The other part is that of a full-time lobsterman. I was his sternman for eleven years from junior high through college.

My father and I on the deck of boat after a day of lobstering.

I was present when he and my mother, who was his pilot, harpooned and caught multiple tuna fish ranging in size from 500 to 1900 pounds undressed (meaning still with the bones, guts, and head) throughout my early childhood until about junior high school.

When I say he harpooned them I mean the old-school, Moby Dick, Captain Ahab, Pequod, harpooned them.

My father stood on the 17 foot aluminum frame of the pulpit that extended out from the bow of our 30 foot Novi fishing boat and chucked a friggin 15 foot bronze dart tipped harpoon at the head of a twenty to thirty foot fish.

Then, like the crew of the Orca would watch the barrels, in his case giant inflatable red balls, until the fish became exhausted and could no longer swim anymore. Then my parents would haul the fish to the side of the boat and “Old Man in the Sea” fashion, lash it to the side of the boat backwards and slowly idle back to harbor, eventually drowning the fish.

Once in harbor, the fish would be sold off to the highest bidder. This was my summer. This was the majority of how my family spent our summer.

My sister was adopted in July of 1975 at 9 months old, only 22 days after the release of JAWS, and the next day we were out on the boat 40 miles out to sea, roaming Stellwagon Bank looking for tuna.

So when he said it was a “stupid pitchah” he had some similar background knowledge of what is involved in the process of catching giant sea creatures. Granted, not a 25-foot 3-ton killer movie shark, but I got the idea.

Newspaper ad for the 1979 re-release

He took us to the 1979 re-release of JAWS when I was 6 years old, and it blew my mind.

It also frightened the bejeezus out of me.

Not enough to make me afraid of the water or go fishing ever again. But it had a huge impact on my life. As previously stated, my parents were busy preparing for the arrival of my sister, and then we were immediately on the ocean hunting tuna when the film was originally released.

Unlike today, if you missed it in the theater you were shit out of luck if you wanted to see a movie unless the film is popular enough to get a re-release.

So we finally got to see the world’s first summer blockbuster. I am pretty sure it was at this showing that he developed his distaste for the film.

Years later, when the film made it to broadcast television, then eventually cable, and finally home video, anytime JAWS was on, he would make a disgruntled noise and either change the channel or leave the room.

This caused great disharmony between us. I love this movie and have owned multiple copies over various home media from Laserdisc to Blu-ray.

One day, I asked him why he disliked the movie.

He said one word: “unrealistic”.

I said, “Yes, but it is a horror/fantasy movie.

“And they killed the dog.”

“Pipit?”, I asked.

He replied, “Is that the name of the black dog?” I nodded.

And he said, “Then yeah.”

I said to him, “How do you know he died?”

He looked at me like I had five heads and said, “Because you see him then yah don’t. You just see his stick floatin’ and the dumb guy callin’ for him. Clearly, he got eaten.”

This got me thinking about the true fate of Pipit, and for the next few decades I obsessed about that damn dog. Every time I watch JAWS, my brain goes back to my conversation with my dad.

Did he get eaten by Bruce the Shark? Did he run off when the danger began? Was Spielberg just being a jerk and breaking the first rule of movie club by KILLING THE DOG?!?!

When I was asked to write something about the 50th Anniversary of JAWS, this is what immediately flashed into my brain. I’ll write about my dad’s irrational hatred of JAWS and what I headcanoned the fate of Pipit, the goodest boy to be.

Through many discussions with him as to why he needs to give this film some slack, I usually throw other films he enjoys back at him and their dubious logic, and “realism”.

Films like Curly Sue, Maverick, Mary Poppins, Housesitter, and Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. He would shrug and tell me that, “Those were good pitchahs.” And that was the end of the discussion. We would put in Legal Eagles and agree to disagree.

I love that my father hated this ridiculously unrealistic horror fantasy film about a giant killer shark that plagues a coastal New England beach resort town because it was… well, unrealistic.

And of course, by unrealistic, he meant that the dog was eaten. He loved dogs. He had his boat dog, just as Quint himself did. There was always a dog in our lives.

To my dad, this film, which is considered to be one of the best blockbusters of all time, and on pretty much every single “must see before you die” list out there, was trash because, in his mind, a master filmmaker and auteur director killed a dog. And you just didn’t do that in his book.

Before he passed away in 2015, I was on a call with him and told him I was going to go and watch the 40th Anniversary screening of JAWS. I jokingly asked him if he wanted to come with me.

And he said, “Ugh, that’s a gruesome pitchah, Benjamin,” and that was the end of it.

I think he actually didn’t like JAWS because he doesn’t like horror films or scary movies. I also discovered on that same phone call that he didn’t know how to swim properly.

I said, “WHAT?! Wait, you were in the Coast Guard, and have spent your entire life on the water, and you don’t know how to swim???”

He told me he could basically “tread water” and that was good enough.” My mind was blown.

Five months later, he died on Christmas morning.

The last photograph of us together taken on the Father’s Day before he passed.

I always think of my father when I watch JAWS or discuss JAWS.

I have the last harpoon he made. Yes, he made his own harpoons, in the downstairs hallway of my house.

I also have the name plaque of his tuna boat, “The Cod Father,” as well.

This was on his coffin at his funeral. I now have this in my house.

As for the final fate of the dog Pipit, I postulate that Pipit did not die.

Him being an intuitive canine, sensed danger and was like “nope!” and noped the fuck right out of the water while his dumb ass owner was distracted by some hot babe who passed by. He then ran off and hopped on the next ferry out of Amity to be adopted by some caring family who only summered in the mountains and lakes.

I know there are multiple YouTube videos and other theories about Pipit, including Spielberg’s own theory regarding the fate of the spirited black canine. If I could have one more conversation with him, I’d tell my dad that, no, Pipit did not get eaten.

He, in fact, escaped the cursed town of Amity to a beautiful family and a life of fetch, plentiful food, and love.

Photo by Anastassia Anufrieva on Unsplashy

And that is now my final stance on Pipit. In honor of my father. Fisherman, dog lover, loving father, hater of the blockbuster film, JAWS.

I miss you, Dad, and I hope that wherever you are in that great ocean in the sky, you are enjoying a package of peanut butter crackers, a warm flat Mountain Dew, and the love and companionship of the dog, Pipit sitting on the sun drenched deck of “The Cod Father”.

Floyd L. Robbins (1942 – 2015) in a film frame from a documentary I made about my parents when I was in college.

ABOUT BENN ROBBINS:
Benn Robbins has three kidneys but only one actually works. He spends most of his time digitizing and restoring old home movies, feature films and experimental movies. When he isn’t saving films he is at home hiding from the world with his wife, dog, and two cats.  You can find Robbins Studios at www.robbins-studios.com and@robbinsstudios on Instagram.  You can find both him and his studio on Bluesky (@robbinsstudios and @bukket1138)