The traditional image of the Seine, with its banks lined with tourists and contemplative couples, takes on a disturbing new layer when reimagined as the habitat of a marine predator. The premise seems absurd — a shark swimming freely beneath the bridges of Paris — but it is precisely in this collision between the improbable and the plausible that director Xavier Gens finds fertile ground to stretch logic and embrace exaggeration with a clear intent: to unsettle, entertain, and provoke thought, albeit in uneven doses.
Far from striving for scientific plausibility, the narrative invests in an internal logic of plausible delirium. The protagonist, Sofia, portrayed with restrained intensity by Bérénice Bejo, carries on her body the scars of both environmental and personal trauma. Her journey begins with a dive into the Pacific — not just a physical one, but a symbolic descent — where she witnesses the brutal clash between ecosystem and human greed. The aquatic monster, in this context, emerges less as a freak of nature and more as a direct consequence of the degradation perpetrated by the planet’s dominant species.
By transplanting this terror into the heart of Paris, the film not only shifts the scale of the threat but also redraws the symbolic landscape of fear. The Seine ceases to be a romantic backdrop and becomes a threatened zone — not by an external invader, but by what has been ignored, displaced, or denied. Sofia’s return to the conflict, three years later, reinforces the cyclical nature of tragedy: trying to walk away from the truth doesn’t stop it from coming back — with sharp teeth and accumulated hunger.
There’s something compelling in how Gens handles the tropes of action, horror, and science fiction with the calculated lightness of someone who knows the clichés and, instead of avoiding them, heightens them. The result is a film that flirts with mockery without fully abandoning its sense of urgency. The shark, named Lilith, is not only a physical menace but also an allegory — a rage feeding off institutional inertia and environmental neglect. Its presence in the Seine on the eve of the Olympic Games is a sharp narrative stroke: it exposes the tension between spectacle and catastrophe, between public image and ignored undercurrents.
Despite missteps in pacing and occasional dialogue that undercuts the built tension, the film doesn’t collapse into ridicule. It walks a fine line between parody and warning, turning narrative fragility into an intentional style. There are echoes of “Jaws”, “Snakes on a Plane”, and even “Godzilla”, but there is also an awareness of the tradition it joins — that of B-movies as vehicles for genuine unrest, however cloaked in excess and absurdity.
The film’s visual impact goes beyond the creature itself: the city, immersed in aquatic tension, becomes a silent character. The underwater sequences — crafted with technical finesse and a notable sense of spatial awareness — are more than action set pieces; they’re plunges into the silent panic that arises when danger cannot be seen, only sensed. This liquid claustrophobia may be the film’s greatest virtue: the ability to capture a fear that seeps in slowly, unnoticed, until it becomes inescapable.
“Under Paris” doesn’t aim for grandeur, nor does it pretend to offer answers. It dives headfirst into the realm of the uncanny and, in doing so, reveals more than it initially suggests. Between jump scares and bloodshed, it issues a warning — not about monsters, but about the silence that makes them possible. The terror, ultimately, doesn’t come from the shark. It comes from what we allow to flow unchecked, too afraid to ever confront.
Film: Under Paris
Director: Xavier Gens
Year: 2024
Genres: Action/Sci-Fi/Drama
Rating: 7/10