Steven Spielberg’s Jaws is the OG summer blockbuster. It’s the reason we still hum da-dum in the deep end. It’s a masterclass in suspense, a project that made us collectively fear (and secretly still obsess over) the mythical monstrosities that lurk in the deep blue. Jaws has left an indelible impact on the American psyche, most interestingly because of the way it taught us to love to fear. Now, 50 years after the movie’s debut, the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures in LA reflects on its legacy with Jaws: The Exhibition.

Running from this September through July 2026, this exhibition will be the largest ever mounted about a single film in the museum’s history. It’s overflowing with more than 200 original objects—from Spielberg’s own archives to never-before-seen treasures from NBCUniversal, all curated by Senior Exhibitions Curator Jenny He with Assistant Curator Emily Rauber Rodriguez and Curatorial Assistant Alexandra James Salichs. 

Moving through the galleries, visitors encounter various moments in the film (from “The Unseen Danger” to “The Shark’s Rampage”) with the closing gallery lingering on the film’s legacy—how did a fish story become a vital part of our cultural bloodstream? “We make Jaws personal to our own experiences and how we identify with the film,” He reasons. “It has inspired subsequent—and disparate—filmmakers such as M. Night Shyamalan and Jordan Peele, who have shaped their own signature approaches to suspense.”

Because horror and thrillers, like joy, are contagious, this exhibition taps into the slightly perverse pleasure of the ride—the laughter in the face of terror, the giddy anticipation of the next splash, the camaraderie forged between friends when danger is just off the starboard bow. “Considering the film scared countless moviegoers from entering any bodies of water for fear of what lay beneath, one would think children might find the film too intense,” He admits. “But it makes perfect sense. Great stories that actively engage our imagination stay with us, especially when we’re young, making us lifelong devotees.”

Jaws has always been about more than the scares—or even the fans. To this day, Jaws serves as a clear case that entertainment media can be wielded as a tool for rapid and sometimes dangerous change: in the years following its release, shark populations in North American waters plummeted by 50%—perhaps because of an increase in trophy shark hunting, or because of a general hysteria around the quashing of an imagined enemy. Spielberg has stated that he “truly regrets” how the movie contributed to the decline of shark populations, and Peter Benchley (the author of the book upon which the movie was based) went on to become a lifelong oceanic conservationist following the cultural reception of the film. That said—because of Jaws, scientific and cultural interest in sharks increased tenfold, with advances made in the tracking and maintenance of the marine predator. Jaws proved that where public attention goes, history will follow.

Jaws, of course, wouldn’t be Jaws if it were just about sharks. It’s about Chief Brody’s dry one-liners, Hooper’s charming arrogance, and Quint’s boozy sea-shanty swagger. It’s about the popcorn-spilling gasp giving way to the nervous giggle [even the preparatory sketches, an exclusive to FLAUNT of which is featured herein, sometimes seemingly smirk]. “I’ve watched Jaws numerous times over the years, and packed theaters erupt with applause at so many different scenes and lines,” He says. “They react not only at the well-known moments like Roy Scheider’s improvised line, ‘You’re gonna need a bigger boat’ [when his character Brody sees the shark for the first time]. Audiences also anticipate the introduction of Quint, as if everyone is bracing for the sound of [his] fingernails scraping across a chalkboard.”

Spielberg’s ingenuity, the stubbornly malfunctioning mechanical sharks, the sunburned extras, the salt-stained camaraderie between cast and crew—all of this is stitched together to present a film that made viewers happy to be terrified. 

Jaws reminds us that exhilaration often surfaces in the most unexpected places: a dive into cinematic history, a shared shiver in the dark, a museum gallery filled with strangers suddenly united by the same sharp-toothed smile. “During screenings of Jaws, the shared joy is palpable,” says He. “Reliving these beloved moments together with the community of other Jaws fans is a meaningful experience.” The exhibition has a way of breaking the surface when you least expect it. So this year, 50 years after that fateful selachian summer, swim towards that uncertainty. Just maybe keep an eye on the water.