July 30, 1945: The Fate of the USS Indianapolis

July 30, 1945, 80 years ago: The USS Indianapolis is sunk. And that's far from the end of it for its crew.

The Indianapolis was a Portland-class heavy cruiser, launched in 1931. In July 1945, in what turned out to be the closing days of World War II -- of course, nobody knew that at the time, even President Harry Truman didn't know it for sure -- it made a top-secret trip to the Tinian Naval Base, to deliver uranium and other components for "Little Boy," which would become the 1st atomic bomb used in combat.

It then left for the Philippines, for training day. Shortly after midnight on July 30, the Japanese submarine I-58 torpedoed it, and it sank. There were 879 crewmen who died immediately. There were 890 left, in lifeboats in the open ocean. They faced exposure, dehydration, saltwater poisoning, and the threat of another Japanese attack.

None of that happened. But they were attacked, by sharks. Hundreds of them were drawn to the wreck by the noise of the explosions and the scent of blood in the water. After picking off the dead and wounded, they began attacking survivors. The number of deaths attributed to sharks ranges from a few dozen to 150. This would inspire the monologue by Quint, played by Robert Shaw, in the 1975 film Jaws.

Because the Indianapolis' mission was top secret, and they had to maintain radio silence at all costs, it took 4 days for the Navy to find out about them and rescue them. Only 316 men survived. It was the greatest loss of life at sea from a single ship in U.S. Navy history.

I-58, the Japanese submarine that sank Indianapolis, was taken over by U.S. forces, and scuttled in 1946. Her commanding officer, Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto, was never charged with war crimes. In fact, he became the 1st former enemy military man ever to testify in the court-martial of an American one. The Indianapolis' commander, Charles B. McVay III, was charged with negligence for his role in the ship's sinking. Hashimoto testified that there was nothing that McVay could have done that would have prevented I-58 from sinking his ship.

It ended up not mattering: McVay was convicted of negligence. To this day, he remains the only commander of a U.S. Navy ship to be subject to a court-martial for losing his ship in an act of war, let alone to be convicted for it. Despite a Silver Star and a Bronze Star to his credit, McVay was stripped of his seniority. This sentence was later overturned, but he never got over it, and took his own life in 1968. Hashimoto became a priest in Japan's Shinto religion, and lived until 2000.

June 20, 1975: "Jaws" Premieres

June 20, 1975, 50 years ago: Jaws premieres, turning Steven Spielberg into a star director, and inventing the "Summer blockbuster film."

It was based on the novel of the same title, by Peter Benchley, grandson of Robert Benchley of Algonquin Round Table fame. He later regretted writing the book, because the movie led people to go out and kill sharks who had done nothing wrong.

Steven Spielberg was only 27 years old during filming, but he was already a genius, capable of out-Hitching Alfred Hitchcock for fear, suspense and characterization.

The movie was filmed on Martha's Vineyard, off the coast of Massachusetts, and "The Vineyard" stood in for the fictional Amity Island.

Roy Scheider, having previously played a second banana in The French Connection, proved that you didn't have to look like Steve McQueen, Paul Newman or Robert Redford to be an action hero.

Richard Dreyfuss, having played teenagers in American Graffiti and The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, was so much better playing a young, thoughtful scientist like Hooper than being a rotten old man. It's one thing to play a mean old Republican, like he did in The American President and W., and he was damn good at both. It's another thing to be one.

English actor Robert Shaw played Quint, who became a shark-hunter after surviving the shark attack on the survivors of the Japanese attack on the USS Indianapolis in the waning days of World War II. Surviving a harrowing wartime experience should make a man less of a jerk, not more. Quint never figured this out.

Murray Hamilton played Mayor Larry Vaughn, a coward who pandered to local businesses. He would have made a great modern Southern Republican. In contrast, as Chief Brody, Scheider gives off serious "I'm a Republican of conscience, and that's why I'm now a guest on MSNBC at least 3 times a week" vibes.

Look, I get why some people root for the shark. Frankly, I wept not at all when it chomped Quint up. I would have cheered if it had gotten that useless Mayor, the real villain of the movie. But you're not supposed to root for the shark, any more than you root for the witch in The Wizard of Oz, or Barzini in The Godfather, or Darth Vader in Star Wars, or Thanos in the Marvel movies.

"Smile, you son of a bitch!" is a better "I'm about to kill you!" line than was ever delivered by John Wayne, and neither Clint Eastwood, nor Sylvester Stallone, nor Arnold Schwarzenegger, nor Bruce Willis has ever topped it, either. Nor will they, in whatever time is left to them.

There were 3 sequels by 1987. The less said about them, the better.

Shaw died in 1978, Hamilton in 1986, Scheider in 2008. As of June 20, 2022, Spielberg, Dreyfuss, and Lorraine Gary, who played Ellen Brody, the Chief's wife, are still alive.

I don't like horror movies, and Jaws has too much screaming for me to buy some people's argument that it's a "perfect movie." But it's a great movie, one proven by both the post-9/11 hysteria and COVID to have stood the test of time.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe

In 1978, a year that ended with a Yankee World Championship, Jaws 2 was released, with the tagline, "Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water... "

On Monday, the Yankees beat the Miami Marlins 12-1. Well, just when you thought it was safe to root for the Yankees again...

Top of the 1st inning: Masahiro Tanaka begins the game by allowing a single, a walk, an RBI single, another single, and a grounder that shortstop Didi Gregorius threw away for 2-run error. And those 3 runs were all the Marlins would need.

Bottom of the 1st: Brett Gardner begins the game by drawing a walk. Aaron Judge does the same. Didi draws another. Except... In between Judge and Gregorius, Giancarlo Stanton grounded into a double play. So, with 1st & 3rd and 2 out, Gary Sanchez grounded to 3rd.

That's pretty much all you need to know about Tuesday night's game. Tanaka allowed another run in the 2nd, and a 3-run home run in the 5th. and didn't get sent back out for the 6th. Meanwhile, the Yankees didn't get a single hit off Jarlin Garcia, who (strangely) also left after 5 innings.

It was 1 out in the 6th before the Yankees got a hit off reliever Tayron Guerrero, a single by Sanchez. Aaron Hicks drew a walk to load the bases. Suddenly, it was looking like the Marlins' manager, some guy named Don Mattingly, had made a big mistake.

But before any of that happened, Stanton led off the inning with a strikeout, and Guerrero then struck out Neil Walker and Tyler Austin to end the threat. (Austin has been suspended for 5 games, but is allowed to play pending his appeal.) Luis Cessa allowed 2 more runs, and Miguel Andjuar hit his 1st major league home run, to tack a mercy run onto a final score of Marlins 9, Yankees 1.

WP: Garcia (1-0). No save. LP: Tanaka (2-2). The Yankees are back to .500, at 8-8.

*

Batting average is often a misleading stat. But here are the OPS+'s of every Yankee with at least 35 plate appearances, keeping in mind that 100 is exactly average:

Didi Gregorius 253
Aaron Judge 196
Tyler Austin 134
Brett Gardner 111
Giancarlo Stanton 92
Miguel Andujar 91
Gary Sanchez 70
Neil Walker 24
Tyler Wade -8

I didn't even know a negative OPS+ was possible. I thought zero was as low as you could go.

But Stanton and Sanchez have been terrible. Sanchez isn't getting paid much, and has delivered for the Yankees before, so he gets some slack. Stanton doesn't fit either of those descriptions. He has been a disaster.

Granted, Starlin Castro, whom we traded for Stanton, hasn't been much better: 94. But he's got a significantly higher batting average (.290 to .197) than Stanton, and an appreciably better on-base percentage, too (.346 to .293).

After a much-needed day off, today, the Yankees begin a 4-game home series against those pesky Toronto Blue Jays. Here are the scheduled starting pitchers:

* Tonight, 6:35 PM, weather permitting (it's rained all day, but it appears to have stopped as I type this at 3:00 Eastern Time): CC Sabathia vs. Aaron Sanchez.

* Tomorrow, 7:05 PM: Sonny Gray vs. Marco Estrada.

* Saturday, 1:05 PM: Jordan Montgomery vs. Marcus Stroman.

* Sunday, 1:05 PM: Luis Severino vs. Jaime Garcia -- as far as I know, no relation to Jarlin.

My mind goes back to the Jaws franchise, which began with a film in which a seemingly unstoppable beast terrorizes a New England community, until a guy from the New York area comes to the rescue and does the business. (Maybe Chief Martin Brody was a local, but his portrayer, Roy Scheider, was from Maplewood, Essex County New Jersey.)

The Yankees don't need a bigger boat. But the bigger bats they already have need to start producing regularly.

Top 10 Movies That Cannot Be Remade in the Present Day

This is not about sports.

There are movies that are not period pieces, but still couldn't be remade and set in the present day, due to changes in technology and personal mores.

One that I thought could be included on this list was Rear Window, Alfred Hitchcock's 1954 thriller in which Jimmy Stewart, bored because he's laid up in a wheelchair with a broken leg, uses his binoculars to spy on his neighbors, and sees evidence that Raymond Burr may have murdered his wife, but has trouble convincing anyone to believe him.

Knowing that technology could make it easier to catch such a killer, producers remade the film in 1998, with Christopher Reeve, already a quadriplegic, using the high tech in his apartment to set a trap for the killer. But it's still not quite the same story.

But the TV show Castle got around this, by playing it for laughs, as Rick, temporarily wheelchair-bound due to a skiing accident, tried to record evidence with his video camera, but he didn't hit the record button in time.

What movies -- not counting films set in a specific time, such as in a specific war -- could not be made today, because technology or changes in mores would render them obsolete?

Oh yeah: Spoiler alert. And these movies are (more or less) in chronological order.

1. Pretty much any film made from a play by Tennessee Williams. Or any other story in which a male protagonist doesn't dare admit that he's gay.

Most notably, Tom Wingfield in The Glass Menagerie, first staged in 1944 and filmed by Irving Rapper in 1950 (Williams' real name was Thomas Lanier Williams III); and Brick Pollitt in Cat On a Hot Tin Roof, first staged in 1955 and filmed by Richard Brooks in 1958. Brick is married to Maggie, but he's been depressed over the suicide of his friend Skipper. Both Tom and Brick are clearly gay, and heavily closeted.

In the latter play, Skipper comes out to Brick, but Brick rejects him, probably because he doesn't want to lose face in Southern society. But the film version, with Paul Newman as Brick, has the gay element virtually eliminated. How gay is Brick? He's married to Maggie, who's played by Elizabeth Taylor at her finest, both in acting and in form, and he's not interested in her.

The role of Brick was originally offered to Ben Gazzara, who'd played Brick on Broadway, but because of the changes, he turned it down. Then it was offered to Elvis Presley. Elvis turned it down, too, possibly because he thought the character was still "too gay." Wouldn't that have been something: Elvis and La Liz in the same movie. It might have totally changed Elvis' reputation as an actor.

(However, he did make probably his best film that year, also a very Southern story: King Creole. But that film was also changed: In the original novel, A Stone for Danny Fisher, Danny was a boxer; in the Elvis film, he was, of course, a singer.)

If the movie were remade today, Brick and Skipper would probably both be out, and preparing to get married, with Big Daddy, Big Mama and Brick's former girlfriend Maggie all angry, and ganging up on them to try to prevent it. And it would be a comedy. Actually, that might be worth watching: It could be The Birdcage meets My Best Friend's Wedding.

2. Twelve Angry Men. This story first appeared as a TV play written by Reginald Rose in 1954, and was filmed by Sidney Lumet in 1957. A jury must decide if a teenage boy murdered his father, with the penalty being execution.

Henry Fonda plays the only juror who, when the deliberations begin, isn't sure of the kid's guilt. One by one, he convinces the other jurors that there is reasonable doubt, until only Lee J. Cobb is left thinking the kid is guilty. Also playing jurors are Ed Begley Sr., Jack Warden, E.G. Marshall, John Fielder, and a young Jack Klugman.

At first glance, this would seem to be a story that could be done today -- although it would have to be renamed Twelve Angry People, since women would certainly be on that jury.

But the knife would be checked for fingerprints (namely, the son's) and DNA (namely, the father's blood). Since the Klugman character's demonstration about how a killer would use a switchblade is correct, one or the other (the son's prints or the father's blood) might well be on the knife, but both wouldn't be. Thus, the police would know fairly quickly that the son didn't do it, and he wouldn't have been charged. So there would be no trial, therefore no jury deliberations.

3. The Apartment -- or any other film made before the rise of feminism in the 1970s. Billy Wilder's The Apartment is set in late 1959, and was released the following year. Jack Lemmon plays an insurance agent, who lets the higher-ups at his company use his apartment for flings with their mistresses.

One of these mistresses is played by Shirley MacLaine, who, finding out that the company's boss was never going to leave his wife for her, attempts suicide. This film could be considered a precursor to Mad Men, which took place from 1960 to 1971.

Both feminism and sexual harassment laws make this film obsolete as hell. Even by 1980, when 9 to 5 was released, The Apartment was an anachronism. It could be remade as a period piece, to show just how far we've come.

4. Play It Again Sam. Woody Allen wrote this as a play in 1969, and filmed it in 1972. Whenever Tony Roberts' character, a real estate agent named Dick Christie, gets to a new location, the first thing he does is find a telephone, call his office, and tell them that he can be reached at that phone's number.

I first saw this movie when I was in high school, in the late 1980s. Even then, this pattern seemed ridiculous to me. At that point, mobile phones weren't very common, as they were still too big to fit in your pocket. But a guy like Dick would have had one. Today, he'd have a smartphone. Hopefully, he wouldn't answer it as stupidly as today's biggest real estate agent in pop culture, Phil Dunphy on Modern Family.

5. Jaws. Premiering in 1975, directed by Steven Spielberg and based on Peter Benchley's novel, Roy Scheider plays Martin Brody, Chief of Police of Amity Island, off the coast of Massachusetts (filmed on Martha's Vineyard), and he's led to believe there's a man-eating shark off the coast. But the Mayor, Larry Vaughn (Murray Hamilton), doesn't believe him, and keeps the island open to tourists. The Chief turns out to be right.

You would think that social media would spread the story about the shark to keep tourists away, leaving the island and the Mayor screwed. Except it wouldn't get that far: Better sonar would settle it quickly, the shark would be dealt with, possibly before social media even knew there was a shark, and the big-money 4th of July weekend would arrive with no unnecessary fear.

6. The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training. The sequel to the original The Bad News Bears, it was directed by Michael Pressman, and came out in 1977. There is no way a Little League team would be allowed to go from Los Angeles to Houston without a coach. And there's no way the State Police, of any State, would see a 13-year-old boy with a fake mustache driving a van, fail to see through the disguise, and refuse to pull him over.

7. Smokey and the Bandit. This movie, directed by Hal Needham, came out in 1977, when CBs -- citizens' band radios -- were huge. Much like ham radios, they were a precursor to the Internet. But with cellphones and Bluetooth, CBs would be obsolete. Maybe the "Breaker, breaker" lingo could coexist with Leetspeak, but the CB systems themselves would now be quaint.

Bo "Bandit" Darvill (Burt Reynolds) and Cledus "Snowman" Snow (Jerry Reed),

with Snowman's dog, Fred

Also, the film's main plot wouldn't work, since, by 1988, shipping Coors beer was legal in all 50 States. A 2016 version of Big Enos Burdette could just go to any liquor store, and buy as many cases of that foul stuff as the store has on hand. If he wants the Bandit to go get him something far away and bring it back under a deadline, it will have to be something else.

8. Manhattan. Woody Allen again. He made this movie in 1979 -- before life imitated art and he hooked up with stepdaughter Soon-Yi Previn. As creepy as that was, it was legal, and he has now been with her longer than with all his previous loves combined.

But in Manhattan, his character is 42 years old, and has a 17-year-old girlfriend, played by Mariel Hemingway, who was 17 at the time of filming. No. Just no. If Woody wanted to admire Roman Polanski as a filmmaker, that was one thing. But to imitate Polanski's personal life...

No. I don't know why he got away with filming that (without his character at least getting arrested) in the Disco Period. But even if Woody didn't get together with Soon-Yi, there's no way he would get away with that film today. Then again, today, Woody is 80, and Mariel is 54. At those ages, it wouldn't be so bad.

Woody's daughter Dylan Farrow claims that he abused her. Today, actors are ripped in the media for even appearing in Woody's movies, because of this claim.

9. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. As I said in a post on Friday, this John Hughes film came out exactly 30 years before, on June 11, 1986. This film couldn't be made today. And not because America's self-appointed moral arbiters would object to nearly every adult in the film being portrayed as a blithering idiot. Here's how it would be different in 2016:

* Grace's phone would have Caller ID. She'd know the call from "George Peterson" was coming from the Bueller house -- or, more likely in this era, Cameron's cellphone. The scheme would fall apart right there. Failing that (perhaps if Ferris' computer could have gotten around it)...

* Ed Rooney might have a friend in the police department, who could use a GPS to track Ferris' phone. He'd have the documentary evidence that proved Ferris was ditching. Then he'd show up at the Bueller house at 6:00, meet Ferris and his parents there, and say, "I've got him." Which he would, unlike in the actual movie, where all he could legally prove was that Ferris was home after school. Failing that...

* Ferris wouldn't risk stealing the Ferrari belonging to Cameron's father. He'd use the Uber app.

* If Ferris could hack into the school's computer in 1986, in 2016, surely, he could hack into Chez Quis' website, and find out the names on their reservation list. He'd see only one name with a party of three for 12:00, see that it's Abe Froman, then Google the name, and see, "Oh, he's the Sausage King of Chicago. He'd be recognized. I'd better try another restaurant."

* Jeanie would use her phone's camera to take a picture of the knocked-out Rooney. Thus, the Shermer police would believe her, and Rooney would be arrested for unlawful entry. Even if he beats the rap, this would be very suspicious behavior on his part, and he'd be fired. At the least, Jeanie wouldn't be arrested.

10. Midnight Run. This one, directed by Martin Brest, was released in 1988. As with Ferris, this is one of my 5 favorite movies of all time. Also like Ferris, this one wouldn't work today. (Neither would the other 3: They're Casablanca, set in World War II; Star Wars, set "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away"; and V for Vendetta, set in a dystopian future.)

Robert De Niro plays Jack Walsh, a bounty hunter with 5 days to get embezzler Jonathan "The Duke" Mardukas, played by Charles Grodin, from New York to Los Angeles. As the promotional material said, The Mob wants The Duke dead, the FBI wants him alive, and Jack just wants him to shut up.

The key to resolving this movie is that The Duke tells Jack that he was arrested before he could put his safety net into action: After discovering the guy he was working for was a Mob boss, he was going to record all of the crime family's dealings on computer disks (the old hard kind that we nonetheless still called "floppy disks"), and turn them over to the FBI. So Jack gets fake disks, and gets the boss to take them. There's no evidence on the disks, but the boss doesn't know that: He thinks he's tampering with evidence; therefore, by taking them, he's guilty of conspiracy to obstruct justice, and the FBI arrest him.

If this story happened today, The Duke would probably have everything he needed put on a flashdrive much faster than he could have put it on those old-style disks, and would have gone to the FBI, and be in the Witness Protection Program before the boss even knew it was too late. Most likely, he and Jack would never even have met.

If he had failed to do that, this would still be an awfully short movie, because the FBI would have found Jack and The Duke using GPS. This would have happened before The Duke told Jack about the flashdrive/disks, and before Jack could tell the FBI about this, and cut the deal that sets him free from all of the charges he's racked up (from car theft to impersonating an FBI agent).