Chief Brody’s Scar

“Your cracks can become the most beautiful part of you.” — Candice Kumai

Chief Brody’s Scar
I’ve seen Jaws more than any other grown-up movie. I’m pretty sure the actual record goes to Pixar’s Cars, thanks to my children. I still watch Jaws every year or so but hope never to hear Mater’s voice again. I’m sure some younger parents feel the same way about Elsa singing “Let It Go.”

My favorite scene in Jaws is when the crew are sharing stories on the Orca after putting a few barrels in the shark. Quint (Robert Shaw) and Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) have been drinking and are trading tales about their various scars. Hooper has one from a thresher shark’s tail. Quint’s arm won’t bend all the way because of an arm wrestling injury after his “third wife’s demise.” It’s artful story-telling as both characters emerge scar by scar. Working-class Quint may even be warming to the scholarly Hooper. 

Chief Brody (Roy Scheider) stands apart laughing. At one point the camera catches him lifting up his shirt to examine his own scar, presumably from an appendectomy. You can feel him debating whether or not to share before quietly tucking his shirt back in. 

Most people miss this subtle scene. It’s right before Brody asks Quint about the scar on his arm, a tattoo that’s been removed, and Quint launches into the most famous passage in the movie about surviving the sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis. It ends, “So, eleven hundred men went into the water. 316 men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945.” And no one is thinking about Chief Brody’s scar anymore. You might miss it, just like you might miss Chief Brody’s scar. Unless you’ve watched the film 30 or 40 times.

 For me, Chief Brody’s scar is about the relativity of experience. Even though he doesn’t share his story, he is marked like the other men. Intrinsically, the scene shows, no one’s experience is better or worse. Your darkest hour is your darkest. Your lowest low is your lowest. They can’t truly be compared to someone else’s. They made us feel how they made us feel. 

In Japan, there is the tradition of Kintsugi or “golden repair.” Artisans repair broken ceramics with gold. Rather than hiding the imperfections, they illuminate them. The golden veins in the mended pottery tell the story of the object and enhance its beauty. 

Scars tell our stories. They are a part of who we are. Formed in pain, they are a reminder of how we knit ourselves together again. As Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” Scars can’t happen without healing. And there is beauty in that as well. 

One question to ponder in your thinking time: What’s the story you tell yourself about your scars?

Make an Impact!
Jay Papasan
Co-author of The ONE Thing & The Millionaire Real Estate Agent