**Table 1.** *Great White Serial Lives* **Plot Structure**.



**Table 1.** *Cont.*

*4.2. Visuals*

The program includes a total tally of 205 images of sharks of various sizes (ECU-MCU-MS), with 89 or 43.4 percent in presumably "aggressive" poses—with mouth open and lunging at bait and, like *Jaws*, traveling vertically up the water column in sub-segments 1, 15, and 17 (Table 2). This representation effectively places sharks in reenactments that make the case against themselves, and strenghtens the argument that nonhuman animals deserve legal rights that protect them from humans (Dunayer 2015, p. 92).

While sharks who are marked for consumption are cut up for parts and sold as nonliving objects or "absent referent[s]" (Adams 2015, p. 60), when inscribed as predators of humans, their body parts take on additional meaning that registers "the term shark ... as a signal of horror" (Lerberg 2016, p. 38). These projections redefine sharks by way of an exclusively reductive approach that objectifies them by way of "the fin, bite and death ... [as] the dominant sign of their character" (Lerberg 2016, p. 35).

The dorsal in the program functions as a trope for the shark's "stalking" in line with the *Jaws* formula (Neff 2015). It appears in 12 shots—in segments 3 and 4 and in subsegment 2, 3, 6, 9, 12, and 17—in an assortment of medium shots (MS), medium close-ups (MCU), close-ups (CU), and extreme close-ups (ECU) to denote the animal's threatening yet slippery presence. Only in sub-segments 11 and 20 are the sharks acted upon when their dorsals are tagged.

The shark's consciousness, as in *Jaws*, is suggested through a handful of reenactments of dangling legs on a surfboard or individuals on a kayak from the perspective below. It is also centered on the eye—usually photographed one at a time as it trains on the camera and deployed through progressively larger extreme close-ups (ECUs) across segment 4 and sub-segments 1, 3, 4, 8, 9, and 12 to convey the idea of looming danger as the shark draws near. These images assume that sharks in proximity to humans per force represent a threat because they not only injure but return time and again to kill (Neff 2015, pp. 114, 123).

#### **Table 2.** Shark Visuals.

Total images of sharks of various sizes and ages: 205.

Eighty-nine visuals or 43.4 percent in presumably aggressive poses: whole sharks with mouth open, lunging, and in *Jaws* poses. Shark body parts: dorsal ("stalking"), eye ("consciousness")


While a projection of the primate eye's preeminence, these shark eye images also reproduce the human–nonhuman animal encounter by ascribing the animal a "power" that leaves the human looking over in fear. In so doing, they avoid pointing out its correlate: that "the eyes of an animal, when they consider a [hu]man are attentive and wary" (Berger 2009, pp. 4–5). The shark's positioning in the frame—typically at center with mouth open to denote aggression disavows the reality that the camera is the aggressor, as the individual photographed observably reacts with caution or fear, while the Narrator doubles down on the species' hostile nature.

#### *4.3. Sound*

Shark visuals occur alongside nefarious sound effects with dissonant tones that include the pounding of a drum, which emulates a human heartbeat under stress to create suspense (Biancorosso 2010; Winters 2008). The use of percussion plates marks the shark's ominous presence as if materializing out of nowhere like a menace. Sound effects also emulate submarine sonar and the sound of the wind in desolate landscapes to denote the shark's rogue and spectral attributes as s/he silently stalks victims and disappears like a ghost into the dark ocean in line with eco-horror aesthetics. Electronic organ-like effects associated with the shark's savagery and crunching aural effects that mimic the shark biting are part of the sensory barrage designed to overwhelm the viewer. These foreboding, discordant tones do not let up until the waning moments and corroborate that the aim of the program is to communicate a persistent sense of danger in line with the species' purported villainous nature. Consonant with spectacle, these sound effects are also designed to distract viewers from pondering the implausible premise of a *Jaws* shark on the loose.

#### **5. Discussion**

#### *5.1. The Investigative Team and the Jaws Shark: The White Shark as Monster*

As seen in Campbell's model, the investigative team's role, which is aligned with both network's and producers' interests, is that of relentlessly pushing the existence of the *Jaws* shark as monster. Monster imagery conforms to eco-horror conventions that express the "aesthetics of transgression", which destabilizes the fanciful notion of human control over nature (Fuchs 2018a, pp. 1, 13; DeMello 2021, p. 400). These conventions do not favor identification with the shark (Fuchs 2018b, p. 12), but instead prioritize the triumph of righteous humans, who are assumed to have an ontological decency that the monster lacks by virtue of having proven his or her status through lethal incidents (Carroll 1990, pp. 16, 141).

In segment 2, the Narrator first posits the existence of such a shark by venturing that the strikes are not a "one-time random thing" but a pattern that recurs every two years, while, in sub-segment 1, he expands on the idea by noting that McMillan and Collier believe that the culprit may be a single individual—a female—coming back to her hunting grounds every other year. The "shark frenzy" exercise, seen in the introduction and segments 1–7 by stacking events dubbed as "attacks", resumes in sub-segment 3 with a report of a shark biting a fisherman's kayak off Gaviota Beach in 2015.. Sub-segment 6 deploys news clips which feature said individual relaying that the shark emerged with the front of the kayak in his mouth and gesturing that the eye was *yea* big. His testimony prepares viewers for two visually compelling cases off Morro Bay in 2015.

To introduce these sections, in sub-segment 7 the Narrator steps up the tension by observing that Morro Bay is only 30 miles north of Gaviota Beach. Collier, joined by McMillan at the scene, argues that three "attacks" occurred in 11 days removed by a mere 30 min and 400 yards, purportedly enough evidence to suspect one shark. While fear-laden and suspenseful, these assertions disregard that bites only *appear* to be a pattern, and instead are "independent, random and rare" and anything but "intent-based" (Pepin-Neff 2014). The Narrator nonetheless maintains that the investigators have found proof of a bite match that will buttress their claims.

As McMillan visits with a male surfer whose board was bitten in Morro Bay, he observes in sub-segment 8 that while most sharks take a bite and leave, in his case, the shark returned as if "stalking you", and by way of this leading statement, extracts from the surfer the observation that the shark's behavior felt "predatory." The inserted visual—a slow motion extreme close-up (ECU) of a white shark swimming from left to right of the frame—underscores the large eye to drive home the idea of a stalking animal in the *Jaws* script (Neff 2015). The sound effects have a sinister quality achieved by scaling-up dissonant notes reminiscent of monster imagery in eco-horror movies.

In sub-segment 9, Collier's visit with the female surfer, whose surfboard was likewise damaged in another Morro Bay encounter, yields recollections of "an enormous shape" underneath, which subsequently emerged and destroyed her board. Two extreme close-ups (ECUs)—of a shark whose jaws open and close in slow motion and of a shark eye as the animal slowly submerges—are appended to her statements. Slow motion and doubling effects extend the display of the purported killer to reiterate the idea of a predator stalking his or her human victim. The view of the eye, accompanied by submarine sonar sound effects, denotes a specter that slips in and out of the scene unnoticed consonant with the white shark's criminal image. Collier tells the female surfer about her counterpart's encounter a short distance away and only half an hour earlier, and posits that the same shark could be behind both events. The Narrator interjects that there is historical precedence for white sharks assailing multiple people, or up to two during the same day. As Collier proceeds to measure her board, he finds a bite match that presumably lends his theory credibility, which the Narrator bolsters by reiterating the one shark-multiple-aggressions theory. This supposed match, as it relates to earlier stalking allegations, fails to hold up against the repeatability standards of independent scientific assessment. For good reason, Domaier challenges the methodology in sub-segment 2 for its lack of precision. Nonetheless, the Narrator again ponders whether the same shark could be returning every two years to strike.

The lab scene in sub-segment 13 features Collier preparing shark tooth fragments for DNA analysis collected from kayaks, surfboards, and dead sea otters as a way to find the shark "responsible." He couches his inquest in moral terms even though gauging nonhuman animal behavior by way of human standards is both unethical and absurd (Pollo et al. 2009, p. 1358). This section includes visuals of sharks with jaws showing, lunging at bait, and coming straight at the camera. Shots incorporate three slow-motion sequences (MCU, MS), which work to extend the display and amplify the shark's supposed monster-like traits.

While DNA analysis from shark enamel is described as a revolutionary technology designed to impart scientific credibility to the investigation, it speaks to an entirely different set of narrative prerogatives that Linda Williams has termed the melodramatic mode. The melodramatic mode, which pervades American film, television, theater, and literature, filters events through simplistic Manichean clashes that pit good against evil to underscore the tribulations of innocent humans and help establish their moral credibility in the story. It summarily does away with complexities because its role is to ensure that moral authority is located squarely with the human victims (Williams 1998, pp. 72, 74, 77, 80, 82). Since white sharks are pelagic, hard-to-track, and unable to survive long in captivity, they have dodged the physical and psychological impacts of enclosure imposed on other species and, for this reason, are reviled for daring to remain elusive and beyond human control (Peace 2015). The DNA-matching is therefore a way of encircling and entrapping the white shark in line with the *Jaws* formula as proxy for exacting a quintessentially melodramatic form of justice for the human deaths in the story. This imagery projects human control and authority over shark species and appraises them not only as subordinate but ultimately as without any "ontological basis of existence" apart from human evaluation (Ford and Hammerton 2020, p. 150).

The shark's monster image reaches a crescendo in sub-segments 12, 15, and 19 when McMillan visits with Jimi Partington, who heads a cage diving tourist operation in the waters off Mexico's Guadalupe Island. Guadalupe is well known for large female white sharks who travel to the area to feed on elephant seals and to mate. Sub-segment 12 features Partington explaining how sharks eat—with teeth that resemble "steak-like knives" and by swallowing prey whole. He details migration patterns that McMillan and the narrator attempt to tie to the Surf Beach events to buttress the idea of a returning *Jaws* shark. This sub-segment features three extended slow-motion sequences of sharks—11 s (MCU-CU, MS-MCU), 6 s (CU), and 15 s (CU-ECU)—that enlarge the shark image and stress the dangers at stake.

Sub-segment 15, the longest section in the entire program, features a sequence in which Partington recurrently baits a large white shark. As the lured individual comes out of the water following the pulley with bait, Partington touches the nose area so that the jaw gapes. This section incorporates no less than a total of 35 shots, and 20 in which the shark comes out of the water with mouth open lunging at the bait. At one point, the shark miscalculates and lands the bite on a metal railing in front of Partington in a sequence repeated no less than 10 times in slow motion to underscore how close he came to danger. (This sequence also appears in the introduction as a "tease" to draw in the viewer as well as in sub-segment 14). To distract from any harm to the baited individual, the Narrator describes Partington as a shark champion who aims to school the public at large about the species' "true nature" and whose prime concern is their welfare. The entire display is justified as a way of showing the aftereffects of shark encounters. Despite avowing that the shark is not being aggressive but only reacting reflexively, the narrator's comments reify the encounter as eminently destructive by making clear that anything in the way of the jaws is imperiled. To reiterate the idea of the shark as menace, this sub-segment also includes a visual of a white shark going up the water column reminiscent of *Jaws*. Sub-segment 19, for its part, features a clip of Emma, a supposed hostile shark who is seen striking the back-up air supply of Partington's submerged cage. The segment ends with the Narrator's caution to never face away from a white shark.

Despite the purported educational angle, the Guadalupe segments are about the spectacle of the adult white shark's dominant position in the marine food chain and viewers imagining the horror of getting caught in the bloody experience through the appropriate distance of televisual images. This display obscures larger issues like shark species' role in performing ecosystem functions and services, which, in turn, correlates marine nonhuman animals' body (and jaws) size, mass, and mobility with nutrient storage, transport, cycling, and dispersal in promoting biodiversity and genetic variance (Tavares et al. 2019). As spectacle is known to do, this section has the potential to lull viewers into passivity about solving marine environmental problems by encouraging audiences to merely sit back and enjoy the show. For good reason, these kinds of representations are considered ecoporn since they disconnect images from referents in the real world and re-contextualize them through objectification (D'Amico 2013, pp. 149, 150, 206). The rhetorical function of this imagery is to control discourse parameters in order to reify the shark's savagery. In the process, it confuses the real and the representational with no ultimate return to the real (Merskin 2018, p. 47).

#### *5.2. The Shark Scientist*

As the "skeptic" in the story, white shark biologist Michael Domaier is given the task of conveying shark science accurately and dispelling any pseudoscientific theories about the existence of a *Jaws* shark. The camera introduces him to viewers by photographing him from a lower angle upward to signal his status as an authority. Domaier disagrees with most of the theories floated about a "killer" shark on the loose but hopes to uncover whether the sharks hail from the waters off the Farallon, Guadalupe Island, or from Southern California proper, and whether a new adult hotspot has surfaced. He makes clear that the area is already known as a pupping ground where sharks can safely grow, explore their surroundings, and investigate new habitats. He also notes that the "killer" shark theory is unsound and that the increase in encounters is due to a larger number of individuals traveling through the area. He supplies the viewer with a crucial sense of process that differentiates shark growth stages, behaviors, and migration patterns lacking in *Jaws*-type descriptions. For example, he explains that "[w]hen ... sharks grow up they've got to figure out where they want to be as ... adult[s]." This information implies trial and error and a learning curve, and counteracts the decontextualized images of sharks of various ages and sizes baited to pass for a villainous movie character.

When, in sub-segment 10, the Narrator again questions whether the same individual is behind the previous incidents with kayakers and surfers, Domaier categorically shoots down the notion of a reprobate shark and notes that no evidence exists for "a shark that's figured out how to kill people ... likes to kill ... and ... eat people." His statements, however, are undercut by appended images of a white shark (ECU) with mouth opening in slow motion accompanied by effects that mimic the sound of the wind through inhospitable, desolate landscapes, as well as an 8-s (MS-MCU-CU) sequence of a white shark coming at the camera to the pounding of a drum and high dissonant notes. When Domaier points to the compelling nature of the two-year strike interval at Surf Beach, given that his own research had uncovered the female migration cycle, images of the surfers killed in 2010 and 2012 alongside blood-in-the-water effects are attached to his statements. The inserted visuals and sound effects transform the degree of theorization that is part and parcel of the scientific method into outright interference with shark science to keep alive the idea of a *Jaws* shark in the viewer's mind.

The extensive reeling and tagging sequences of a 14<sup>1</sup> <sup>2</sup> -ft. female in sub-segment 11 which only rivals in duration the Guadalupe "monster" display in sub-segment 15—on the other hand, resembles a dangerous cowboy roping adventure that re-images the ocean and the shark within it as a frontier-like environment that necessitates conquering. This lengthy exercise, perilous for both humans and nonhumans alike, is prioritized over other forms of shark science because it provides tantalizing entertainment for Discovery's viewer demographic. It also calls attention to the lack of female shark scientists in the program given that women make up half of the American Elasmobranch Society (Shiffman 2018).

In sub-segment 20, audiences get a glimpse of shark satellite-tracking technology in action. While arguably also a way of encircling the white shark, this technology investigates shark population sizes and distributions in the service of recovery and offers the program a measure of scientific credibility. However, of the three tagged individuals, including a 17-ft. female and a 10-ft male, the technology can only pinpoint the 14<sup>1</sup> <sup>2</sup> -ft. female's location even as the expectation is that all will return to the area. Nonetheless, given the program's "slippery" shark imagery, the technology's limitations also reaffirm the white shark's elusive aura.

When the DNA results arrive in sub-segment 21, predictably, no match is found. In sub-segment 22, the Narrator finally concedes that the events of the past five years may be due to more humans in the water encountering an increasing number of sharks. Domaier doubles down on *Jaws* shark speculation and reaffirms: "[W]hat's happened at Surf Beach is *not* ... one shark." He also comes across a small cove with a new elephant seal colony, which he describes as an important shark interim feeding station in 85 miles. The discovery shows that the elephant seal population, almost driven to extinction by human hunters, is recovering and that the sharks are simply following after them. Since the investigation set out to uncover the motive for the strikes, the Narrator acknowledges it as solving the Surf Beach mystery for its location some miles south. It is also only after this revelation that he notes that humans are not shark prey, even as those who insist on swimming near seal colonies expose themselves to considerable risk.

Despite this admission, the Narrator expresses trepidation about the thought of a giant, hungry female making her way back to the Surf Beach area. As McMillan takes to the waves on his surfboard, the image of a white shark (CU) under the water line fills the frame in slow motion accompanied by a low dissonant wind-like effect, crescendo sizzling, and a pound on percussion plates. An inscription in the frame teases about the next appointment with the shark on 20 October 2018 at 6:02. All the science-hyping notwithstanding, Domaier is ultimately not allowed to cast aside the idea of a *Jaws* shark since producers do not intend to discard the image for the considerable profit it represents.

The voice-of-god Narrator, whose role in the documentary format is to remain above the fray, functions as the driving force behind the idea of the *Jaws* shark in the program. Of the 52 references to the term "attack", which appear consistently in the shark research literature to inscribe sharks as predators of humans and to commoditize fear (Le Busque et al. 2019, p. 2; McCagh et al. 2015, p. 274; Neff 2015; Muter et al. 2013, p. 190, 34 are made by the narrator. This voice also provides for turning points that insistently push forward the *Jaws* scheme through the idea of a single shark's intentional strikes in a two-year repeating pattern (segment 7 and sub-segments 1, 6, 10, and 15). Argumentand evidence-presentation techniques exploit knowledge gaps in shark science—such as difficulty in assessing both white shark population numbers due to small- and large-scale migrations and distribution-related environmental drivers across regions (Huveneers et al. 2018, pp. 1, 5)—to confuse viewers with the idea of a returning *Jaws* shark.

It goes without saying that *Jaws* imagery is counterproductive to the text's scientific angle not only because it rehashes clichés that weaken science in the public eye as an evaluative, measured system of inquiry, but because it fundamentally devalorizes shark individuals and species in their totality (Kueffer and Larson 2014, p. 721). Although documentary is expected to blend science with entertainment (Evans 2015, p. 266), the balance in the program is struck in favor of eco-horror features that are consonant with criticism of factual entertainment's shift away from production of thoughtful scientific content toward pseudoscientific programming that slides head first into fiction (Campbell 2016, pp. 1, 2).

Leading questions designed to extract emotionally-charged answers and unquestioned witness testimony about sharks explicitly targeting humans, as well as wide use of science accouterments, like staged lab scenes and the participation of scientists who provide specimens for DNA analysis, attempt to add scientific credibility to the proceedings. "Factfinding" trips up and down the Central and Southern California coast to collect shark tooth samples, as well as excursions to Guadalupe Island to display the power of a shark bite and tie visiting sharks to Surf Beach incidents also predictably yield a lack of conclusive evidence that one shark is behind the encounters. Aside from furthering the narrative's forward thrust in the manner of a TV crime investigation, said jaunts amount to little more than mere diversions.

The shark scientist in the role of skeptic does furnish much needed clarification as he solves the "motive" for the Surf Beach incidents. Yet, tantalizing images of sharks with purportedly bad intentions are also spliced in to undercut his assertions. This imagery suggests that the shark scientist, although recognized as an authority, is not allowed to definitively put to rest the idea of a *Jaws* shark regrettably inspired by a movie featuring a 25-ft. *mechanical shark*. Even though Domaier is introduced as an expert in white shark science, he is also described as an additional investigator, which understates his authority. This move is detrimental to shark conservation since scientists are trusted by the public to be credible purveyors of information and are also influential in engendering attitude change by increasing the level of concern about a public problem (Oxley et al. 2014, pp. 256, 258, 264; Petty and Wegener 1998; Pew Research Center for the People and the Press 2009). By undercutting Domaier's authority and input in the service of entertainment, producers missed out on the shark scientist's ability to create the kind of impactful change that fictional films with their "suspension of disbelief" directive cannot offer. Objectivity techniques of science in TV documentary also enabled producers to "balance" the investigative unit's *Jaws* shark speculations against scientific assertions as if these were equally weighted, despite that the team's expertise was not readily discernible as is typical of pseudoscientific programs (Campbell 2016, pp. 186, 192; Metz 2008, p. 343). Consonant with pseudoscience, then, the program's chief aim was to prevent viewers from disbelieving in the mythical *Jaws* character by exploiting their lack of familiarity with sharks and enabling continued profiteering from defamatory representations.

Characteristic of the reversals that occur in Hollywood entertainment, two years before the fourth installment's first airing, Kurr and McMillan disavowed the idea of a *Jaw*s shark by respectively stating in the same interview: "[E]verybody knows ... [that] a great white shark is just trying to eat. ... They're not trying to target humans ... " and "the more you work around a shark, the more you realize ... *Jaws* definitely got it wrong; they're not

bloodthirsty killers ... [nor] mindless ... . [but] one of the more intelligent animals in the world ... " (Bierly 2015). The strategy of clearing up misconceptions outside the program's boundaries confirms that producers wish to distance themselves from the misinformation they sow while reaping the financial benefits offered by sponsors. Yet, treating cinematic or televisual projections of shark images as if they occurred independently of ethical concerns is a non-starter (Ford and Hammerton 2020, p. 161). Further, decisions to stage white shark recovery as a threat to humans are ill-considered given that the release of the Spielberg's *Jaws* intersected with the emergence of the environmental movement and, as such, is seen as backlash against these concerns (Ingram 2000, p. 88). Rehashing this kind of imagery during an ongoing extinction event that scientists, researchers, NGOs, and even environmental organization donors are feverishly attempting to check and reverse decidedly registers as both profoundly anti-science and anti-conservation.

#### **6. Conclusions**

The proliferation of pseudoscience in factual programming and producers' decision to dedicate resources to complete fictions that amplify the entertainment factor and skimp on science is especially deleterious in the case of sharks whose image widely diverges from anthropocentric norms and the phylogenetically closer species for whom most humans feel empathy (Gibbs 2020, p. 11; Bornatowski et al. 2019, p. 34; Ingham et al. 2015). Hostile shark representations are not trivial since they aggravate perceived human–wildlife conflict, instill fear that foils funding appeals during conservation campaigns, and harm these nonhuman animals through species vilification that has real-life consequences for them.

Human–wildlife conflict is known to increase with the perpetuation of pseudoscientific attributes and culturally dependent anthropomorphisms that must be offset with factual knowledge and careful image-shaping of the species in question (Jürgens and Hacket 2021, pp. 12, 14; Apps et al. 2018, p. 1). Lowering fear of sharks by providing scientific information and focusing on the minimal risk of strikes (Pepin-Neff and Wynter 2018a; Aich 2021, p. 1), as well as emphasizing bite *un*intentionality and species' vulnerability have been found to engender a more favorable opinion of these nonhuman animals (Lucrezi et al. 2019, pp. 9, 10).

Remedying routine omission of white sharks' protected status across media genres also remains pivotal given that it veils systemic human predation of these species and the need for effective transnational legal protections. For this reason, advocating for the human right to all environments regardless of impacts should also be avoided since sharks have rights to their habitats and conservation requires a multi-decadal approach (Ford and Hammerton 2020, p. 151; Frisch and Rizzari 2019). In addition, given that adverse encounters are a result of miscalculation, the term "attack" should be discarded because it places the entire responsibility on the shark. Media practitioners should ideally follow new prescribed uses that label these interactions as adverse (Yuhas 2021), and/or deploy terms that accurately convey shark error.

Research shows that the greater a species' decline, the more intense public pressure becomes to ensure improvement in shark management and conservation (Boissonneault et al. 2005, p. 1). Social scientists have also observed trends toward greater biophilia that are driving more effective conservation policy (Manfredo et al. 2020). Enlarging species coverage and scientific content to address shark roles in marine ecosystem health as well as supplying critical-anthropomorphic portraits that personalize these nonhuman animals (Whitley et al. 2021, p. 840; Qirko 2017) can contribute to their conservation by enhancing human empathy. In like manner, reporting on new scientific discoveries, such as white shark preferences, which coincide with associations that suggest the existence of friendships (Schilds et al. 2019; Solstice Media 2019), can work to underscore individuality in a positive light and tap biophilic trends. Only by shifting imagery away from traits, behaviors, dispositions, and values that solely suit ill-fitting human standards, and acknowledging sharks' intelligence, emotions, and preferences, progress can be made toward respectfully addressing these nonhuman animals as planetary stakeholders.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declare no conflict of interest.

**Disclaimer:** Wildlife\*\* refers to nonhuman animals who are either free-living or non-domesticated. No derogatory meaning is intended.

#### **References**


Biancorosso, Giorgio. 2010. The Shark in the Music. *Music Analysis* 29: 306–33. [CrossRef]

