Rating: D-
Dir: Lukás Vokoun
Star: Jeremy Tichy, Iggy Ulla, Allan Kneefel, Ales Karel
I can forgive many things from my shitty shark movies. Implausibility. No budget. Special effects created in Microsoft Paint. Bring it on: indeed, to some extent I would expect nothing less. But mind-numbing tedium is not something I will tolerate. That’s what you’re destined to endure here, a film where it feels like everyone is doing the absolute bare minimum. I mean, when a line like, “I didn’t dedicate my career to marine conservation, just to watch crazed militants weaponize ocean life,” is delivered with all the energy of “We apologize for the delay in reaching a representative. We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls,” it’s clear a film has abjectly failed to understand the assignment.
As the title suggests, it takes place in Prague, and there are sharks. Now, we have seen shark movies in locations hundreds of miles from the ocean before. Under Paris very much went there, and while flawed, did well enough with the premise to get over the obvious hurdles. It’s a goddamn Bugatti compared to the Škoda which is this film. We begin with that staple of Eastern European cinema, the Dedicated Cop with Personal Issues, John (Tichy), whose other half is whining at him because he’s too focused on his job, and not on her. Matters aren’t helped when body parts start turning up by the side of Prague waterways, and John turns to marine biologist Lisa (Ulla) to help him investigate.
Turns out to be the plot mentioned above, by the evil and, I guess, quite possibly insane Dr. Reefs (Karel). He has been meddling with the DNA of the species, which allows them to go out of water and chow down on the land-based population at will. Though precious little of the film is spent on this element. Instead, it’s more of a police procedural with angst, performed by a surprising number of people for whom English is clearly not a familiar language. The worst – though far from only – culprit there is Lisa’s mentor, Robert (Kneefel), whose line deliveries may well have you reaching for the subtitles button. Beyond a few shots of landmarks, his accent as close as this gets to any local flavor. And Kneefel is Indonesian, as out of place as the genetically doctored bull sharks.
There is almost nothing of interest to be found here, beyond some occasional sniggering at the pitiful (and, mercifully, rare) efforts to put sharks and humans in the same shot, as shown top. None of the characters have any character to speak of, and you’ll quickly find yourself tuning out the flapping of their lips, because they have nothing worth listening to. Even after Dr. Reefs has been defeated, and disposed of in exactly the manner you would expect – just ten times as lazy – the film won’t stop. It has to resolve John’s personal issues, which we never gave a damn about to start with, at painful and excruciating length. Joe-Bob would definitely say about this one, do not Czech it out…
This review is part of our feature, Shark Week 2026: Gill-ty as charged.