I’m writing from our annual family vacation in Door County, Wisconsin. I love spending summers on the water. Not necessarily in it per se. That said, I’m not one of those people who are afraid to go into the water after seeing Jaws. In fact, Jaws is a favorite summer movie of mine. It’s an amazing story. And one you can learn from.
Part of the soufflé-like perfection of the movie comes from the fact that you don’t actually see the shark until an hour and 20 minutes into the film. The movie itself is a little over two hours, and you don’t lay eyes on the antagonist until 66% into the runtime! While building suspense can be useful, that’s not the strategy I want to give you.
Instead, I want to look at the opening of this movie. As most remember from Aristotle via high school English class, stories are supposed to start with exposition. This provides crucial background information — the setting, who the characters are, and any historical context.
But Jaws doesn’t open with a history of Amity Island. We don’t start with Chief Martin Brody’s past as a New York City cop or his own fear of the water.
It’s in the waters of Jaws’ opening that a story strategy lies.
RIP Chrissie
There are a lot of iconic scenes in Jaws. The thrilling dolly zoom of Chief Brody on the beach. Quint’s fingers scratching the chalkboard to silence the town meeting. “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” But the beginning starts quietly.
It’s early morning. A young woman, Chrissie Watkins, is running out into the surf for a moonlight swim. As she paddles through the open water, the camera drops beneath the surface, looking up at her floating silhouette from a predatory perspective. Suddenly, an unseen force yanks her downward. She struggles, screams, and is violently dragged back and forth across the water by an invisible monster before being pulled under for the final time. The ocean returns to a chilling, placid calm.
No backstory. No setting. No names (we learn Chrissie’s name later). But we, as an audience, are hooked. We don’t see the shark, but we know. This scene establishes a ruthless, invisible threat right out of the gate, instantly raising the stakes and keeping the audience tense every time a character steps near the water for the rest of the film.
Great scene. Great movie. But what does Jaws have to do with me?
Shark vs. The Curse of Knowledge
Most stories fail to hook you in the first few minutes as Jaws does. Too much exposition. Too much backstory (don’t get me started on the Star Wars prequels). Likewise, we fall into this trap with our own communication. Whether it’s a high-stakes presentation or a simple conversation, we get bogged down with our own exposition.
Our unnecessary backstory and setup take the form of excessive detail on our job history, title, and duties. Then we spend time leading them through all of the smart stuff we know. Rather than hooking them, we’re credentialing ourselves — falling into the trap of the curse of knowledge.
Like Jaws, we need to start with something that hooks the audience right away. Something that tells them why they should care about what you’re talking about and why it matters to them. That’s why I always tell people that an effective talk should be framed not only around what you know. But also what’s at stake for the audience. Why is this worth discussing now? What happens if we do nothing? Done right, this context creates stakes for your audience.
While you don’t want them to be afraid of the water for the rest of their lives, you want them to care. That’s the hook for your story. Find it, and you’ll be on your way to reeling your audience in.
Story Strategy: Start with the Shark
Don’t overwhelm your audience with everything you know right off the bat.
Apply it: Your stories need to start with context for the audience. Ask yourself: why should people care? Then, like Spielberg, make sure you cover that in the first few moments with the audience.
A version of this first appeared in Story Strategies—my monthly email newsletter designed to help you connect with your audience through the power of story. Get the next issue delivered to your inbox.
