Eugene David ...The One-Minute Pundit |
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Sunday, February 12, 2006
The author Peter Benchley, descendant of a long-lived literary dynasty already somewhat forgotten -- his grandfather was Robert Benchley, the now-unfunny "humorist" -- has died at 65. One wonders how his career would have progressed without a certain LEGENDARY direc-TOR:
Thanks to Benchley's 1974 novel, and Steven Spielberg's blockbuster movie of the same name, the simple act of ocean swimming became synonymous with fatal horror, of still water followed by ominous, pumping music, then teeth and blood and panic. ''Spielberg certainly made the most superb movie; Peter was very pleased,'' Wendy Benchley told The Associated Press. ''But Peter kept telling people the book was fiction, it was a novel, and that he no more took responsibility for the fear of sharks than Mario Puzo took responsibility for the Mafia.'' And ol' Luke has proved in more recent days that he cannot discern fiction from non-fiction, and has spread the contagion to his audience. We agree, Mrs. Benchley; your husband was blameless.
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