In the history of Lithuanian cinema, this was an unprecedented attempt to portray the social life of independent Lithuania in the early nineties. The period and theme are fascinating and undoubtedly relevant, especially since the work is based on R. Kmita's "Pietinia kronikas". It raised hopes that we would see an extraordinary, perhaps even exemplary narrative about the social color of that epoch, reflecting the spirit not only of the Siauliai region but of all Lithuania. Alas, those hopes faded...
The work lacks depth and inspiration. Rather than a cinematic story, it's a collection of everyday life episodes where characters, though following certain logic, wander without clear motivation. The development of the main character is unconvincing - it's permeated with mundane monotony. In his life story, we find neither dramatic turns nor spiritual upheavals nor fateful decisions. The hero faces no essential challenges, seeks no ways to survive or achieve set goals.
Even the mother's opposition to her son's passion for rugby leaves no trace in his mindset. This indifference permeates the entire narrative - whether the character talks to others, enjoys himself, or sinks into contemplation, nothing changes his spiritual state or relationship with the environment. The only notable turn is the reading of five books recommended by one of the girls, miraculously transforming him into a poetry enthusiast and helping him finish school. However, even this transformation lacks credibility. The environment, which could have become a catalyst for the hero's spiritual growth, remains just a pale background, eventually losing any charm.
The narrative unfolds like a mechanical journey from one point to another. The character meets people, engages in conversations, flirts, attempts to philosophize, but it's all imbued with artificiality, lacking genuine passion. His wanderings resemble meaningless drifting, as if the sole purpose was to move the character from one anecdotal situation to another.
Although young people's search for self and dissatisfaction with the world is an eternal theme in literature and cinema, in this work, the rebellion against life remains superficial, leading to no deeper understanding of self or the world. The hero simply drifts downstream, leaving no significant mark either on himself or in the viewer's consciousness.
The hero's relationship episodes with the opposite sex are revealed rather primitively, overly dependent on the book's context and the social environment of that time. While in the literary original, the author's personal experiences and adventures pulsate with life, in the film they become a pale reflection.
If this were a documentary film aimed simply at observing the character and his behavior, such an approach could be justified. However, a feature film demands a different approach - the screenwriters should have selected the most significant moments from the book, connecting them into a cohesive, dramatic narrative. Unfortunately, while plot fragments remain, their inner connection and dramatic tension have dissipated. The actors' potential, though praiseworthy, remains untapped - their characters seem to hang in a void, appearing artificially inserted into the depicted era.
The only consolation comes from the work of the art director and costume designers. In this aspect, the film maintains internal consistency, managing to convey the atmosphere of the nineties with remarkable accuracy. However, the cinematography, even when disguised as a stylistic decision to reflect the aesthetics of that time, remains disappointingly flat. World cinema experience shows that the spirit of different epochs can be conveyed through much more subtle means than television format imitation.
In conclusion - while hopes were nurtured to see a mature Lithuanian film capable of conveying the realities of that time, we got a superficial, uninvolving story about a rugby player's poetry, where we find neither true poetry nor authentic life pulse. This, unfortunately, is how Lithuanian cinema reality turned out this time.
