The Man Behind the Scream: How Jay Stein Turned a Simple Tram Ride into Theme Park Magic—and Left Us All Wondering What Comes Next
Imagine riding through a Hollywood backlot when a massive shark suddenly lunges out of the water, jaws snapping in terror-inducing fury. That's the kind of thrill Jay Stein dreamed up, transforming what was once a mundane studio tour into an unforgettable rollercoaster of excitement. But here's where it gets controversial: Was Stein's genius in embracing movie magic the game-changer that outshone Disney, or did it blur the lines between art and commerce in ways we still debate today? Stick around—this is the story of a visionary who redefined entertainment, and it's one most people overlook in the annals of theme park history.
It all began with a bold request from Stein to his film production buddies at Universal Studios, then under the wing of Lew Wasserman's mighty MCA empire. Back in 1975, Steven Spielberg's "Jaws" had just exploded into pop culture, becoming a phenomenon that had everyone hooked on its suspenseful tale of a killer shark terrorizing a seaside town. Stein, ever the opportunist, saw gold in the leftovers. He pleaded for props to recreate the fictional Amity Island coastline right there on the studio's sprawling back lot, far from the bustle of downtown Los Angeles. "Can you just give me one of your leftover sharks and I'll put it on the studio tour, and we'll get some promotion out of that," he reportedly said, as recounted by author Sam Gennawey in a chat with The Times. This wasn't just clever marketing—it was Stein pioneering the use of intellectual property to breathe life into rides, making movies come alive in ways that pulled visitors into the action.
Jay Stein, seen here with his wife Connie in Oregon, passed away peacefully at his Bend, Oregon, home on November 5. He was 88 years old, battling complications from Parkinson's disease and prostate cancer. His wife, Connie Stein, shared her grief and pride in an interview, saying, "He left a big hole—but he also left a wonderful legacy. Not a lot of people have the opportunity to leave a legacy that touches generations. But he's still making people smile every day." Those words capture the enduring joy Stein brought to millions through his work.
The tram tour's infamous shark attack, unveiled in 1976, quickly became a must-see, scaring the daylights out of tourists and setting a new standard for theme park thrills. This was just one of Stein's many innovations during his over 30 years as a top MCA executive. He played a pivotal role in Universal's expansion to Florida, directly challenging the Walt Disney Company—a move that reshaped the competitive landscape of family entertainment. For beginners wondering what a tram tour entails, think of it as a guided train ride through movie sets and behind-the-scenes areas, where everyday sights suddenly explode into cinematic chaos, like a runaway train careening toward you or a giant ape swinging overhead.
The "Jaws" attraction wasn't just a fun gimmick; it forged a deep, decades-long partnership between Universal and Spielberg. This collaboration extended to blockbuster films like "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial," "Jurassic Park," "Schindler’s List," and "The Fabelmans," turning the studio into a powerhouse. It also inspired a wave of movie-based experiences, including a thrilling "Waterworld" live show where stunt actors battled on water, and the heart-pounding "King Kong" ride—where, as Connie Stein fondly recalled, her husband insisted the gorilla should emit "banana breath" for that extra sensory punch.
Inside Universal, these electrifying additions earned the nickname "JayBangs," a term Sam Gennawey immortalized in his 2016 book, "JayBangs: How Jay Stein, MCA, & Universal Invented the Modern Theme Park and Beat Disney at Its Own Game." Gennawey explained Stein's philosophy perfectly: "Jay wanted to put you in the movie. He wanted to grab you by the collar and shake you a bit." In other words, Stein's vision was about immersion—making visitors feel like they were part of the story, not just spectators. And this is the part most people miss: How Stein's ideas turned theme parks from simple attractions into immersive storytelling machines, influencing everything from Universal's Orlando parks to global franchises.
But here's where it gets controversial: Critics might argue that Stein's aggressive use of movie tie-ins commercialized art, prioritizing profits over creativity. Was he a genius for beating Disney at its own game, or was he merely capitalizing on Hollywood hype at the expense of genuine innovation? This debate is still raging in theme park circles today.
Born in New York City on June 17, 1937, to Samuel and Sylvia "Sunny" (Goldstein) Stein, Jay moved with his family to Los Angeles as a child. His father sold watches, and young Jay developed a rebellious streak—skipping school to gamble at Hollywood Park Racetrack, forging his own report cards with fake A's to fool his parents. The ruse unraveled when the family returned briefly to New York, leading to a school conference that exposed his missing credits. A stint in summer school fixed that, and they headed back to L.A. Stein studied political science at UC Berkeley but dropped out just short of graduation. He then served in the Army National Guard and, in 1959, landed a job in MCA's mailroom. Initially eyeing film production, he shifted to the budding tour division by the mid-1960s.
Universal had kicked off the tram tour in 1964 to monetize their vast property, but many saw it as a lowbrow sideshow. Stein recalled in a 2023 Times interview, "It started out as two trams and a Quonset hut on Lankershim Boulevard. Quite frankly, the tram was considered something that interfered with television production." He was tasked with navigating the logistics to keep the tours from disrupting filming. Despite the skepticism—executives called it an "annoyance"—Stein championed its potential. As Gennawey put it, "He was able to convince others of the benefits of having the studio tour. That’s what saved it."
Gennawey hailed Stein as a trailblazer in American theme parks, noting his fierce competitiveness. "He recognized that Disney had its thing—but Universal could create something different and complementary, particularly in the early days." Disneyland ruled as a top destination, but for locals, Universal offered a safer, more glamorous peek into Hollywood's glamour. Stein's impact, however, gained recognition only recently, partly because he followed Wasserman's mantra that executives should stay out of the spotlight—the "stars were the stars." Stein retired early in the mid-1990s after Matsushita, the Japanese electronics giant, acquired MCA.
He fretted that new owners wouldn't value the parks, and Gennawey says history proved him right—until Comcast bought NBCUniversal in 2011 and poured billions into expansion. Just this year, they unveiled Universal Epic Universe in Orlando, a $7-billion marvel that's been praised for its innovation. Today, Universal's theme park network—spanning Los Angeles, Florida, Japan, and China—generates a whopping $8.6 billion in annual revenue, making it a cornerstone of NBCUniversal's profits.
Stein leaves behind his wife Connie, son Gary Stein, daughter Darolyn Bellemeur, their spouses, children, and grandchildren, as well as his brother Ira Stein, a nephew, cousins, and Connie's family. His legacy endures, reminding us how one man's creativity can shape entire industries.
What do you think—did Stein truly revolutionize theme parks, or was his approach just clever exploitation of pop culture? Do you side with those who see him as a visionary competitor to Disney, or do you worry about the blurring of entertainment lines? Share your thoughts in the comments—let's discuss!
