But Oscar finds himself in deep water when it transpires that the dead shark was the son of mob kingpin Don Lino (De Niro). Only Lino's remaining son, Lenny (Jack Black) - a closet vegetarian, and Oscar's gal pal Angie (Renée Zellweger) can help save him from an eternity spent sleeping with the fishes.

After a muddled start, the plot spirals into unfathomable depths of inanity, and quite often it's just dull. We're presented with watered-down caricatures spouting deadweight dialogue - the portrayal of sharks as Italian Mafiosi is especially lazy, with the quota of "bada bings" and "fuhgedaboudits" enough to make James Caan blush.

De Niro probably phoned in his performance, although Martin Scorsese provides much-needed relief with his rib-tickling turn as a babbling puffer fish. At the centre of it all, Smith fails to engage as a wisecracking hustler with nothing but a cheeky grin to endear him to viewers. Essentially, the anchor doesn't go deep enough and Shark Tale is left to flounder.