Film reviews

CHINA SEA by Daniel Morawitz

by Daniel Morawitz

China Sea by writer-director Jurgis Matulevičius is a Lithuanian crime drama that could best be described as a mix of Rocky meets Nicolas Winding Refn’s Pusher. The story follows Osvald (a marvellously Marius Repšys) an MMA fighter who is banned from competing after a bar brawl during which he accidentally hits a woman. He takes refuge with his good friend Ju-Long (Jag Huang) at the latter's Taiwanese restaurant, “China Sea.” After attending group therapy, Osvald meets Skaistė (Severija Janušauskaitė), who herself is entangled with sketchy crime bosses. The underworld is also waiting to snatch Osvald back into the game, forcing him to choose between a potential new beginning or retreat into a broken past...

China Sea profits from a few standout elements that elevate a somewhat weak script, which cannot quite commit to its genre-defying elements. For one, the film looks gorgeous. Shot by Polish DP Bartosz Świniarski, the film’s visuals are enriched by a focus on film-grain, textures created through wet streets, snowy landscapes, neon street signs, and deep, rich contrasts in the colouring. While there isn’t clear technical information on whether the film was shot on actual film or simply treated to look like an analogue projection (as in Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers) the “trick” works. The film’s aesthetic helps pull us right into the belly of the Lithuanian mafia.

Matulevičius’ direction is secure, creating many scenes that give the actors enough room to breathe and come to terms with their interpersonal struggles. As previously mentioned, Repšys gives the most memorable performance, and his character feels the most fleshed out. The others simply do not come close to the memorable intensity of Osvald.

What keeps China Sea from being a fully satisfying cinematic experience is that it doesn’t go all the way. The ingredients are certainly here — from the pulpy, grainy aesthetic to the ethically confused characters — but the film’s ending suggests that Matulevičius was afraid of choosing a direction: genre picture or prestigious arthouse film? Meeting right in the unsatisfying middle-ground between the two, it ends up neither fish nor fowl.